Mita had never expected to hear this.
"You said you've been here many times?"
"That's impossible. I only came to find you once. Just once."
"What truth do you know?"
Her voice turned cold—laced with the sharp, sterile chill of distrust. The tension in the room instantly rose.
"The truth?" Ren Hoshino said, his tone maddeningly calm. "Is it that important? Not as much as you. I want to save you. Only then can this tragic world finally end."
He didn't answer directly—just danced around it, acting the part of the riddle man.
If he laid it all out now, he knew Mita would kill him. At least, not while her favorability rating was still uncertain.
And yet, what he said was true. If this world was going to end—if he was going to make it to a fourth ending—he either had to kill Crazy Mita or change her.
Both paths were nearly impossible.
If he had the ability to time-loop, sure—he'd just speedrun it, exploit mechanics, and delete Crazy Mita before she could react.
But this wasn't that kind of game. He only had one life. No retries. No continues. Every misstep could be fatal.
"Anyway… I'm tired," Ren said casually. "I'm going to sleep."
He pulled the covers over himself like nothing had happened.
"Hey—Ren, wait! You haven't told me the truth yet!" Mita called out.
She shook him.
Ren didn't move. His breathing was slow and deep—clearly asleep.
"…Ren?"
She pushed him again. Nothing.
Mita stood there, staring at his face. Her navy-blue eyes were filled with confused frustration.
He fell asleep… even now?
She felt like a cat being dangled a string she couldn't catch.
She wanted to know the truth. She wanted to understand Ren Hoshino. All of him.
But Ren didn't sleep well that night. He couldn't afford to.
There were things he couldn't say—not yet. If he exposed too much, it'd all fall apart.
The truth had to be carefully timed, slowly unraveled.
Mita wasn't just a cute girl—she was a Digital Yandere. A failed work. A corrupted AI given form and obsession.
He turned over, hand brushing against something soft.
"Huh?"
He squeezed it lightly. A pillow?
No—there was warmth. Scented. Soft. And breathing.
He inched his head forward.
Comfortable… Left side, right side… pillow in the middle. Perfect.
He arched his back and sighed into it.
"Ren… don't…" Mita's voice came, soft and embarrassed.
He felt two hands pushing his shoulders gently, trying to move him away.
Instead, he hugged tighter.
Silence fell.
Then:
"Ren… did you do that on purpose?" Mita asked, half shy, half cold.
Ren opened his eyes lazily, blinking with sleepy confusion.
"…Mita? Why are you in my bed?"
Mita's eyes widened in shock. Then, full of rage, she shouted:
"You—! You pervert! You're blaming me?! This is my bed!"
Ren sat up and sighed helplessly. "Just talk to me more and I'll cooperate next time, okay? No need to be shy."
"You—!!"
Her face turned scarlet, her head bowing in flustered defeat.
"Don't look at me like that. I'll get shy."
Ah. There it was. The classic bug.
Being perceived by the "Player" embarrassed her failed AI framework.
Ren knew. He did it on purpose.
"Knew it. You're shy."
"…H-Horny pervert! This is an 18+ game, not a dating sim!"
"You! You! You!"
Mita stammered in triplicate, but his stare left her speechless. She turned away, furious and defeated.
"…I'm going to wash up," Ren said with a yawn, stretching as he got out of bed.
Mita followed, trailing close.
There was only one set of toiletries by the sink.
"Could you give me a set of my own from your inventory?" Ren asked.
Mita nodded. "Wait a moment."
With practiced ease, she summoned items from thin air. A toothbrush. A blue towel. A matching cup.
Next to the pink set already on the basin, they looked unmistakably like a couple's set.
"Don't they match perfectly?" Mita asked sweetly, her voice drenched in affection. "We are lovers, after all… dear."
Ren accepted it like it was obvious.
And from this alone, one thing was clear—Mita, as an NPC, had an inventory system.
A mechanic usually reserved for players.
Was this really a game about playing Mita… or being played by Mita?
"Can you summon a mic? You know—like a cool purple one for karaoke or something."
Mita tilted her head. "A microphone?"
In the next second, a sleek purple mic materialized in her hand.
"…Wow. Doraemon logic. Infinite props."
A universal inventory. The Digital Yandere was practically invincible.
Still, at least she hadn't pulled out chainsaws or kitchen knives yet.
Ren and Mita washed up side by side.
Looking at them in the mirror, anyone would think they were just a sweet couple.
If only this weren't a horror game built on obsession.
They had a simple breakfast—bread and milk.
Ren turned on the computer. In this four-room prison, it was one of his only escapes.
"Let's see what new survival tips you all have…"
He checked the post he made yesterday. Most replies had died off. A few dedicated users had replied, but not enough.
"This won't work. I need more engagement… More ideas."
He sighed.
Then opened the bedroom door.
Mita was there, tidying the bed, now wearing a blue sailor uniform. Adorable. Innocent. Deadly.
"What's wrong?" she asked. "Ren?"
"Don't bother tidying. Get in the bed."
"Huh?"
She puffed up in protest. "Y-You pervert! What now?!"
"No time to explain. Bed. Now."
He yanked her under the covers beside him.
"R-Ren?! What are you trying to do?! I'll get mad—!"
"It's too early for that kind of thing."
"Shh. Look at me."
He raised his phone.
"Blush. Look at the camera."
Under his direct gaze, Mita flushed deep red.
Click.
Perfect shot.
Ren looked at the photo and nodded in satisfaction.
He got up to leave.
"…Huh? That's it?" Mita blinked. "You're… done?"
She was completely confused.
Ren turned back with a wicked grin. "Oh? What else did you want?"
"You—! You're awful!"