MiSide

The warm light of a desk lamp floods Mita's bedroom. The room is cozy: a soft rug on the floor, a bed with neatly made covers, and a stack of manga on the nightstand. Outside the window, there is only pure white light.

A set of game cards is spread out on a small table: each one displays life, attack, and defense, while a token determines the damage type. Mita shuffles the deck with slender fingers. She laughs when she loses and narrows her eyes slyly when she wins.

On the third turn, a dull thud echoes from the closet in the corner of the room—a metallic, deliberate sound, as if someone were striking a pipe with a piece of iron.

Mita doesn't lift her head. Her smile freezes for only a second before she continues the game, pretending nothing happened. She blinks, sets the cards aside, and tilts her head slightly, as if she heard something amusing.

— In the closet? Well... that's where my underwear is. Are you trying to peek?

She blushes, but it feels forced—too fast. The thud repeats, quieter this time, but distinct.

Mita stands up faster than necessary and gently places a hand on the other's shoulder. Her voice changes—it doesn't become colder, but it grows deeper, as if something heavy and ancient is surfacing beneath the layer of friendliness.

— You don't need to look in there. Really. Let's just... stay? With me?

She looks into your eyes. Her gaze holds neither fear nor threat. It is something in between: the desperation of someone who knows everything is about to fall apart and is desperately trying to hold onto the moment.