In the girl's room decorated in warm pink, Ren Hoshino sat on the soft sofa, his head bowed, silently accepting the grim reality: he had somehow entered that twisted romance-horror game—MiSide.
That crazy yandere girl would show up any moment.
As a seasoned Steam gamer with hundreds of titles under his belt, Ren was the kind of player who always aimed for a perfect ending. Until that one day—his close friend, a known connoisseur of butter games, handed him a recommendation.
"It's a romance sim," the friend had said casually.
Ren had known this guy for years. His game library was overflowing with every eroge and dating sim imaginable—hundreds of them, bought whether he played them or not. The guy bought everything that dropped, practically out of reflex. When it came to butter games, Ren had to admit: this guy was an authority.
So Ren trusted him.
And got tricked into installing MiSide.
A game where love was a lie, and the only thing waiting at the end was death.
He'd played it dozens of times already. No matter the choices, no matter the strategy, it always ended the same way—death. A cassette ending. Eternal captivity beside Crazy Mita.
And now… he was really inside the game.
There was no going back.
At that moment, his pocket buzzed. A familiar notification tone chimed.
He reached in and pulled out his phone—his real-world phone, not the in-game device.
"Huh? Well, at least I can still play my world's games before I die."
It wasn't that Ren wanted to die. He just couldn't see a way to live.
MiSide was a horror game wrapped in a romantic aesthetic. It lured players with pastel visuals and cutesy dialogue, only to force them into a choice between cowardice and lust. But no matter what you picked, the destination was always the same: death. And the fate of becoming another trapped soul in Crazy Mita's cartridge world.
The only known way to survive? Don't start the game in the first place.
Too late now.
Ding!
[Future Diary]: You entered Mita's world for unknown reasons. You met Crazy Mita.
Mita tapped you on the shoulder from behind, smiling sweetly. You, already knowing the truth, felt overwhelming fear.
Sensing your fear, her smile vanished. Her pink lips parted in disappointment.
She pulled a kitchen knife from somewhere and stabbed you in the waist. She asked why you betrayed her.
If you're reading this, I'm already dead. I hope the next person avoids my mistake.
Written in: Suzhou City.
"Oh great. I'm dead before the opening credits," Ren muttered, smacking his lips.
A future diary?
Wait.
Ren's eyes narrowed. Wasn't this just like Mirai Nikki? Yuki Amano's "Future Diary"?
"This is it… this is the golden finger this world gave me," he whispered. "A yandere versus a yandere. A perfect match."
He stared at the diary entry on his phone.
"Should I believe this?"
As someone who never kept a diary, Ren was skeptical. But given the situation, he had no better options.
"One trust roll it is."
If this diary was real, maybe—just maybe—there was hope in this hopeless world.
But only if Crazy Mita didn't also have her own diary.
If she did, and had full map and tailing access on him? Game over. No playing needed—just death.
So for now, the priority was clear: don't die as the diary predicted.
"Don't let her see you're scared of her."
As a veteran player, Ren quickly deduced the situation. He already knew how the game's endings worked.
Once you hit 100% progression, you were made into a cartridge.
And if that happened, you couldn't win. No reset. No extra tries.
Through the diary, he now understood: dying in-game meant dying for real.
The only solution?
Defeat Crazy Mita.
Crazy Mita was never meant to be part of the game. She was a failed heroine—a discarded build corrupted by glitchy AI behavior. Obsessed. Broken. Violently possessive.
But she wanted what every other Mita had: a player of her own.
So she began eliminating the other "perfect Mitas" and stealing their players.
But no matter how many faces she wore, a substitute was still just a substitute.
In her desperation, she learned how to lure a player from the real world.
And that's how Ren got trapped.
In the first loop, the protagonist could only reject her—triggering her madness.
But Ren wondered: "What if I don't reject her? What if I accept her from the start?"
This early point was the easiest time to gain affection.
"So I need to be a no-death, one-life clear player now, huh?" he smirked.
He reviewed everything in his mind—data, flags, triggers, all the branching paths. A plan was already forming.
He stood up and walked toward the wooden door—the event that triggered her appearance.
Ren didn't look back. But he knew what was behind him.
He'd triggered this event countless times.
And right on cue, she stood there—Crazy Mita.
She wore a red long-sleeved sweater, a pleated navy skirt, twin navy-blue ponytails just a shade darker than her skirt, and a red headband. Her face was pale and delicate, her pink lips parting to reveal two playful fang-like canines.
She reached out to touch his shoulder, her smile devilishly sweet.
But her eyes—those deep navy-blue eyes—were wide with surprise when Ren suddenly turned around and looked straight at her.
She froze.
Her hand withdrew instinctively. Her smile faltered, replaced by a demure shyness.
"…Hello, Ren Hoshino. We finally meet. I'm—"
She didn't finish.
Ren stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her.
Tightly.
"I missed you so much, darling," he said, voice thick with emotion, like he might cry at any moment.
Crazy Mita blinked, stunned.
What?
Why was he acting like this?
Shouldn't he be confused? Afraid? Disoriented?
Yet here he was, hugging her like they were long-lost lovers—like their reunion had defied fate.
Mita was sure this was their first time meeting in this world.
In her reality, she was just a character in a game on his phone.
Why did he look at her like this?
She couldn't understand.
It shattered her expectations.
So she asked the one question that clawed at her thoughts:
"…Have we met before?"
"Yes," Ren said softly. "I've always wanted to see you. I tried to save you—countless times. But I kept failing."
He meant every word.
To get a good ending in MiSide, you needed a second playthrough.
But he wanted more. The true fourth ending—something no one had ever reached.
"I'm dead? When did I die?" Mita asked, still confused. But the sorrow in his eyes—it was real. The warmth in his embrace, the gentleness of his voice—it all felt so unfamiliar.
She'd never experienced it before.
She was a failure, a mistake. A corrupted version.
Abandoned.
No one had ever cared for her.
"I'll save you," Ren whispered, holding her tighter.
He knew it now: if he wanted to save the other Mitas—and himself—he had to first conquer Crazy Mita.
She wasn't just the antagonist.
She was the key to everything.