— What do you think about when you take pictures?

I don’t remember exactly when, but I once asked my father that question.

I can’t recall what prompted it. Maybe it was just a random curiosity from my childhood, or perhaps I had some trivial school assignment like “Let’s learn about your parents’ jobs.” Something along those lines.

— Hmm… if I had to put it into words, I’d say it’s about capturing a fleeting moment of beauty and preserving it forever.

— ? What does that mean?

Now that I’ve grown, I understand the meaning behind those words. But back then, I couldn’t grasp what my father, smiling slightly, was trying to say.

What the heck? Capturing a fleeting moment of beauty and preserving it forever? That sounds way too dramatic.

— You’ll understand when you’re older, Takumi. But for that to happen, you need to find it first.

— Find what?

— Isn’t it obvious? That would be…

Before I could recall the answer my father gave me with that smug expression, my consciousness was pulled back to reality.

(…What the hell is going on here?)

It was after school on a day when I had finally started getting used to my new class in my second year of high school.

By pure chance, as I passed by an empty classroom, I witnessed something unexpected.

“Mmh… I just can’t seem to get the right shot…”

Sitting on top of a desk, taking a selfie, was none other than Shinomiya Rinoa—one of the most beautiful girls in school, no, in all of Japan. She was also my classmate.

And for some reason… she was in a disheveled uniform, looking incredibly scandalous.