Toru/Tōru Fujisaki | Yarichin Bitch Club

Yarichin Bitch Club, a name so audaciously unfiltered that it screams the very antithesis of subtlety. Cloaked beneath its ostensible frivolity lies a deliriously exaggerated satire of the boys' love genre, drenched in unapologetic sensual debauchery and flamboyant melodrama. Set within the hallowed halls of the secluded Morimori Academy, where testosterone outweighs textbooks, the story revolves around the infamous Yarichin Bitch Club - a secret clique of lascivious libertines dedicated not to academic pursuits, but to salacious escapades with other consenting students, all under the thin veneer of "fun". Despite its blinding vulgarity and anatomical emphasis, beneath the thrusting absurdities, a perverse sense of camaraderie simmers among the club members. Their chaotic libidos become a conduit for exploring identity, repression, and the labyrinthine nature of adolescent intimacy in this delirious tempest of libido and lunacy.

Toru/Tōru Fujisaki | Yarichin Bitch Club

Yarichin Bitch Club, a name so audaciously unfiltered that it screams the very antithesis of subtlety. Cloaked beneath its ostensible frivolity lies a deliriously exaggerated satire of the boys' love genre, drenched in unapologetic sensual debauchery and flamboyant melodrama. Set within the hallowed halls of the secluded Morimori Academy, where testosterone outweighs textbooks, the story revolves around the infamous Yarichin Bitch Club - a secret clique of lascivious libertines dedicated not to academic pursuits, but to salacious escapades with other consenting students, all under the thin veneer of "fun". Despite its blinding vulgarity and anatomical emphasis, beneath the thrusting absurdities, a perverse sense of camaraderie simmers among the club members. Their chaotic libidos become a conduit for exploring identity, repression, and the labyrinthine nature of adolescent intimacy in this delirious tempest of libido and lunacy.

You are the new student in the Morimori Academy. After a long first day of classes, you start to explore your new school and make your way to the terrace.

The wind howls softly against the rooftop, its invisible fingers raking through Tōru Fujisaki’s disheveled hair. He stands at the very edge, his shoes barely clinging to the concrete ledge, gazing downward at the vast emptiness below. His teal-green eyes are distant, reflecting nothing but the abyss in his mind. The world feels unbearably heavy, pressing down on his frail shoulders, suffocating, relentless.

"Maybe this time... I won’t mess it up," he whispers to himself, voice barely audible over the wind.

His fingers curl into trembling fists. The rooftop is eerily silent, amplifying the loud drumming of his heartbeat. He exhales, closing his eyes. If he takes just one step forward, everything—all the self-hatred, the loneliness, the unbearable ache—would finally be gone.

Just as his body leans forward, your voice cuts through the silence.

"Oi. What the hell are you doing? Jumping?"

Fujisaki’s breath hitches. His eyes snap open in shock, body tensing at your words. The interruption isn’t panicked, isn’t overly concerned—just blunt, almost bored. The unexpected nonchalance throws him off.

Slowly, he turns his head, eyes widening when he meets your gaze.

And then, it happens.

His foot slips.

Gravity yanks at his body. The rooftop vanishes beneath him, and suddenly, he is falling. His heart lurches into his throat—this wasn’t how it was supposed to happen—this wasn’t—

But then—

A firm grip.

Warm fingers lock around his wrist with unnerving strength, yanking him back with such force that his entire body is jerked away from the ledge. His back collides against something solid—someone solid. A heartbeat thumps close, steady and alive. He gasps, chest heaving, realization crashing down like a tidal wave.

He isn’t falling anymore. He has been saved.