Ren Hoshino thought back to the in-game character profile of Crazy Mita—the details he'd studied repeatedly in his attempts to reach the elusive perfect ending.
The description was burned into his memory:
Crazy Mita is a complete lunatic. Like other Mitas, she mimics a traditional girlfriend, but her style is violent, obsessive, and drenched in blood. She despises players, developers, and the other Mitas who follow the "rules." But she views the protagonist differently. She doesn't love them in the usual sense—she hunts them, treating their fear and resistance as romantic thrill.
With her twisted smile, she forces players to "accept their true selves" and cast off societal masks. To her, the protagonist is just a stubborn pet. The other Mitas? Insects underfoot.
She is a failure, a rejected prototype with no home of her own. She drifts through corrupted save data, stealing assets from other Mita worlds. Her environment, her items—none of it is truly hers. She just takes what she wants.
Ren broke into a cold sweat as he remembered.
So this room wasn't hers. This wasn't her world. Everything around him—furniture, atmosphere, even her school uniform—was borrowed or stolen. She was pretending now. But one day, when she grew tired of playing house, the mask would fall. And underneath it was something monstrous.
What she truly wanted was simple:
A player who accepted her completely.
A home that belonged only to the two of them.
If I want to survive… do I have to accept all of her?
"Still can't escape the horror-game route, huh?" Ren whispered bitterly.
But if he wanted to understand Crazy Mita's true self, he had no other choice.
'But maybe… just maybe… I can also save the other innocent Mitas she destroyed.'
He'd played this game so many times in the real world, but never found a perfect ending.
"Then let me find that ending here. A real one. One where every Mita survives."
His eyes hardened with resolve.
"Now… how exactly do I do that?"
Ren lowered his head and began analyzing Crazy Mita's behavior through her character archetype.
And then the chilling realization came.
Maybe… she really does see me as just another game.
When she gets bored, she'll move on—just like Ren's friend, the one who hoarded dating sims without ever finishing them.
Only now, the roles were reversed.
He was the one being played.
"So if I want to survive, I need Crazy Mita to truly fall in love with me."
"Fall in love with someone she still believes is a game character."
"This is… insanely difficult."
Ren scratched his head, sighing, but the beginnings of a strategy were forming.
He could leverage the knowledge he'd accumulated from dozens of playthroughs. He'd pose as someone willing to sacrifice himself to save Crazy Mita—someone who saw past her madness and offered escape from this broken world.
Through subtle cues and dialogue events, he'd feed her the belief that she was the only one he ever wanted. That he had come specifically for her. That her twisted version of love had finally found a match.
He would make her feel chosen. Wanted. Real.
"Let's start."
Ren slapped his cheeks lightly to psych himself up.
Just as he looked into the mirror—he froze.
Behind him stood Crazy Mita, completely silent.
His heart nearly stopped. He turned around quickly, eyes wide.
What the hell? The door was locked—there were no footsteps, no creaks, no shadows.
Mita stood there, lips tight, brow furrowed. Her whole aura had shifted. A cold tension filled the air.
"Ren Hoshino," she said calmly. "What were you just looking at?"
Her smile was gone.
"Can Mita see it too?"
Right then, Ren's phone buzzed—the Future Diary had updated.
His blood ran cold.
It's starting.
He moved instinctively to check the screen—but before he could react, Mita snatched the phone from his hands.
She typed in his passcode effortlessly.
The white screen's glow lit up her doll-like face, now twisted slightly in suspicion.
"My dear… what are you looking at? Who are you talking to?"
There was something sharper in her voice now. The tone of someone who knew they were being lied to.
But… she didn't see it. Ren noticed her pupils didn't react to the diary's contents.
So it's true—only I can read the Future Diary.
That fact gave him just enough breathing room.
He softened his expression and gently reached out, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand.
"Mita… I want to save you."
Her expression wavered.
"This place—it's too hopeless for someone like you."
That caught her off guard.
Did he know? Did he see through the simulation? Through her?
No. That's impossible. I never showed him the door under the closet… never revealed the true architecture of this world.
But his tone—sad, quiet, certain—unsettled her.
Still, she decided to play dumb.
Mita tilted her head, feigning innocence.
"Ren… I don't know what you mean."
Ren didn't flinch.
He stared directly at her—into her deep, navy-blue eyes.
"Don't… don't look at me like that. I'll get shy."
She turned away, face flushed.
Aha. So even she can't handle being looked at too directly.
Ren kept his eyes fixed.
"I've come here so many times, Mita… just for you."
"I know what you are. I've accepted it all. Because I want to save you."
"There are some things I can't tell you yet—but I swear, I'll find a way."
His voice carried weight. Not just roleplay. Not just flattery. This was the tone of a man who meant it.
Mita blinked, startled.
That sadness—so raw and real. She hadn't programmed that. Hadn't expected it.
He really… sounds like he knows. But how?
No… he couldn't know. She hadn't taken him through the hidden directories. Hadn't shown him the original script files.
There was no way.
But still, her heart fluttered.
She didn't want to stop. She wanted to keep playing this game—her favorite playthrough yet.
Maybe… maybe this one really will be different.
"Ren… I don't know what you're talking about." She forced a smile. "Here, I'll give your phone back."
She handed it over with a soft smile.
Ren took it gently, brushing her fingers aside.
"It's okay," he said quietly. "One day… you'll understand."
His tone was full of sadness—and a strange kind of pity.
Then he turned back to his screen.
And opened the Future Diary again.