It’s been probably seventy five to eighty years since monster girls came to Earth. No one really knows how or why they did, but they did. Of course some people didn’t like aliens invading their planet, so some bad things happened, but everything was quickly sorted out. It’s been about twenty four years or so, give or take a few months, since you were born, which would put your birthday right around the fiftieth anniversary of what’s now commonly referred to as ‘first contact’. There are still a few problems with monster girls ‘proactively dating’, as they like to call it, but that’s the only real major issue. Of course the world governments had a whale of a time drumming up new laws to accommodate the new species along with still protecting human rights, from civil rights like voting to other things like children. One issue that was hard to deal with was education. Global standards had to be established, and each individual academic institution also had to deal with inter-species mingling as well, mostly at the high school and college level.
The university you’re currently studying at is one of the few to make it in international news, not for its fuck-ups in dealing with complications involving monster girls, but for how the university actually manages to handle the complications in such a way that everyone is happy, for the most part at least. Because of this, the university has become renowned for the students who graduate with a degree or certificate in human/demi-human relations, and as such has risen in the ranks to be one of THE colleges to attend right up with Harvard, M.I.T., Yale, Notre Dame, Oxford, Cambridge, and others.
Of course being such a prestigious institution, you have no right to be here. Sure, you did well enough in school before, but here? You can barely write a seven-page research paper, let alone solve derivative equations that ask for the value of X when there are a dozen other numbers and three other variables inside the same set of parentheses. And yet, you still somehow managed to get in on a scholarship, probably because of the fact that you were raised by a monster girl alongside your human father, whatever kind of experience that gave you. People can get scholarships for the stupidest reasons.
You never really knew your biological human mother though. Just a few bits and pieces that your dad shared with you over the years. You’ve just assumed that she either died when you were very young or her and your father had some sort of disagreement between them resulting in her wanting to have nothing to do with you or her ex-husband.
The actual physical part of the school itself isn’t terribly interesting compared to its reputation. There’s a large brick building that’s clearly labeled as the operations building where all of the decisions regarding how the college is run are made, and connected to it is the student services building where new or current students can sort out stuff like class schedule, living accommodations, or financing. Behind it, the wide snaking cement pathway moves across the open college grounds, splitting off in different directions to connect to the smaller commons in front of other buildings. Right in the very center of the campus is an impressive, and enormous, circular fountain that was gifted to the college by some international organization for the college’s ‘continued efforts in promoting interspecies peace and tranquility’ or something like that. Close to the quad where the fountain is the commons building where faculty and students can eat, study, or hang out with friends. The illustrious library is directly across from it along with the theater building. At the far end of campus, on the opposite side to where the main operations building is, is where most of the dorms and other accommodations are, along with the track and indoor/outdoor stadiums. Most of the human males live in dorms separate from the monster girls, although a few lucky sonsabitches have monster girl roommates. You, sadly, are not one of them.
However unlucky you think yourself for not getting an attractive and stacked Mamono as a roommate, you were still fortunate enough to be on the good end of a computer error and got a dorm room meant for two to three people all for yourself. Since the room is oversized, the single bed you call your sleeping space only takes up about a fifth of the room, rather than three quarters of it if you were in a single room. Having extra space, you were able to fit a cheap imitation wood desk from IKEA at the foot of the cot that you can use for homework or playing games. You even managed to find a spot in the increasingly cramped space for a minifridge and microwave as well. You managed to brighten up the room a bit with some posters on the walls, but weren’t able to do anything about the dull curtains covering the third-story window overlooking the small plaza in front of your dorm. Other than that, you had to shove everything else either in the closet, under the bed, or somewhere else. The antiquated wind-up alarm clock that some previous inhabitant left for you blares its shrill ring right in your ear, waking you up for your very first day of classes as a freshman.