[Hello□]
The pale notepad looked like the face of a long-dead person, and the three large characters on it were like a dead man's eye sockets, seemingly oozing beads of blood, sending a cold shiver down Mila's spine.
She could feel her heart stop for an instant after seeing that sentence, then suddenly accelerate—thump, thump, thumping as if it would leap out of her chest the next second.
"Wh-what is this?" she muttered, a scornful smile on her lips as she took two staggering steps back.
Mila's first thought was that she had misread it.
She didn't remember typing those three words into the notepad; she wasn't delusional or anything. So, she couldn't have written this.
Besides, isn't Mita a romance game? How could something like a "cyber-ghost" possibly appear?
Wait a minute…
A cyber-ghost?
At this thought, Mila's mind calmed considerably.
Faint particles still drifted leisurely through the windowsill. They floated to Mila's forehead, landing on a single, crystalline drop of cold sweat and shattering it into fragments of light.
Gh-gh-ghosts or whatever…
How could they possibly exist?!
She repeated this silently to herself, taking deep breaths in and out, forcing her heart to calm down.
That's right… If I think about it, this is a romance game. [Romance]! That's the main theme! Ghosts don't exist.
Hmm… Maybe it's a prank someone left for her?!
At this thought, Mila's mind calmed considerably.
But in a daze, she realized something:
If it was a prank left by someone…
The young girl's gaze swept around the room. The well-lit space suddenly seemed to be filled with gloom.
As if these places were all hiding "people."
"N-no… please, no."
She asked herself, she couldn't be so lonely that her words were manifesting reality, right? This… this wasn't the kind of company she wanted…
In fact, standing right beside Mila were several young girls whose forms could not be seen.
"What in the world is going on?" Misha watched this Mita's terrified expression, utterly bewildered.
She was the one who had typed "Hello." It was the most innocuous and best way she could think of to express their goodwill.
Why was the Mita in this room acting so strangely?
"Tch, bestie. I told you I should have been the one to write it." Millie shrugged, a mischievous smile on her face.
"I should have written 'We're all watching you'! That would have left the deepest impression on her~"
"Alright, now's not the time for games. Although it is pretty interesting." Alain fiddled with her hat.
He enjoyed a bit of chaos himself and naturally wanted to see a Mita so scared she'd start whimpering.
But right now, a "countdown" was hanging over their heads, so it was better to save time if they could.
"Hey! Bad bro, stop playing with my hat!" After swatting Alain's hand away, Millie bared her teeth at him a couple of times, then sat on the bed out of boredom.
"So what should we do now?"
"Hmm… We could try typing another line," Alain said.
Of course, Mila couldn't hear their discussion.
The young girl's attention had already shifted from the characters on the computer to her own bed.
"…?"
On the edge of the bed was a deep butt-print, clearly the mark of someone having sat there. If it were just that, it wouldn't have been enough to scare her. Maybe… she had left it herself?
But what if Mila had watched with her own eyes as that butt-print gradually appeared?
A "person" was sitting there.
An invisible… "person."
"N-no, please no." She took a few steps back until her back hit the wall, with nowhere left to retreat.
Her bedroom, usually a comfort zone and a place of rest, now seemed fraught with peril in her eyes.
It was as if hidden figures lurked everywhere.
"Clack, clack-clack-clack-clack, clack-clack-clack!"
Just then, a burst of typing from the computer keyboard rattled her already frayed nerves, tangling them into a knotted mess.
Her head turned stiffly towards the computer, and she saw, to her shock, that the letters on the keyboard were being pressed at a fluid pace, rapidly typing out lines of text.
A sentence with a comma appeared in the notepad.
She didn't quite dare to look at the second half of the sentence. But the part before the comma completely confirmed her suspicion:
[You can't see us, …]
"Eek?!"
Not this, please! Was she so lonely that she'd have to resort to keeping company with "cyber-ghosts"?
And, can't see…
Her gaze focused on the butt-print on the bed. There was still no sign of it fading.
The distance from the bed to the computer where the typing was happening should be quite far.
For that "person" to be able to sit on the bed and type at the same time, it meant its arms—
Mila estimated the distance and silently swallowed a bitter gulp of saliva.
The invisible "person's" arm span was at least as long as her height.
An arm 165cm long—was that even a "person" anymore?
Realizing this, Mila felt elusive little stars flash before her eyes, spinning, making her head spin along with them.
Seeing that she wasn't coming over, the "person" seemed to have given up on typing on the computer.
Instead… Mila watched in horror as her drawer was pulled open.
"???"
Like an invisible hand was rummaging through the drawer, making a noisy "thump, clack" sound.
She didn't understand what the "person" wanted to do, and as she was thinking—a fountain pen floated lightly out of her drawer, and came out.
With a "click," the cap came off, the sharp nib still gleaming with black ink.
The book she had just finished reading was suddenly flipped open a page, seemingly to the table of contents.
The "shh, shh, shh" of writing was as faint as a mosquito's buzz, but to the girl's ears right now, it sounded like the rustling of grass in a dense forest where a beast was hiding.
What… what does it want to do—Mila no longer had any intention of dwelling on that thought.
She only felt her head grow groggy, her eyelids heavy, as if she would fall into a deep sleep at any second.
"Click."
Just as Mila began to feel drowsy, the series of irritating writing sounds gradually stopped, along with the sound of a pen cap being closed, signifying that "it" had finished writing.
Then, the book slowly began to float up, as if moved by an unseen wind. It floated right in front of Mila.
It's over…
Mila's face was pale. She wanted to moisten her dry lips with saliva, but she couldn't even perform such a simple action.
Those words slowly sailed towards her, like a demonic, soul-stealing tune, drawing her gaze.
The crooked handwriting was like a child's weeping. And the ink-stained pages, they looked like the poor souls who had lost their lives to Jack the Ripper, their blood dripping with the rain on a stormy night.
The content of the writing was easy to understand. In fact, it was very clear. Because, that string of characters had almost completely covered her vision.
[We want to talk to you,]
Mila could clearly see every single texture of the paper stained by the ink. The light, bookish fragrance was one she was always familiar with.
But right now, she couldn't smell it.
She only noticed a blur in her eyes, and even the slowly drifting pale white particles seemed to spread like ink on paper within her vision.
As if the final string had been cut.
"Eh?!"
Before everyone's eyes, that Mita collapsed to the ground with a "thud."
"Why did that happen?" Miluo watched her lying limply on the ground, occasionally muttering things like "No, stay away from me."
The girl blinked, feeling confused.
A moment ago, after Misha's typing strategy didn't work, Miluo had volunteered to try a "writing strategy."
But she never expected… that as soon as she saw the writing, that Mita big sister fainted for some reason.
"…Miluo, can I see that?" Misha said with a wry smile, taking the book from Miluo.
The long-haired girl stared at the handwriting on it. Should she call it bold, or just sloppy…
Never mind.
"Miluo, after we go home, you have to practice writing 100 characters every day, okay~? I'll buy you a workbook."
"Ehh—? Why! Is my handwriting really that ugly?" Miluo pouted, seeking comfort from her Knight.
Regarding Miluo's education, Alain adhered to the principle of "Misha has full authority."
"My little princess, just listen to Misha, okay?"
"Even you, Alain?!" Miluo despaired.
The hat-wearing girl crouched to the side, poking the unconscious Mila's cheek.
"So, what are we supposed to do now? She's passed out."
"Hmm…" Alain and Misha were pondering, while Miluo was still nursing her wounded pride.
Seeing that no one could come to a conclusion, Millie volunteered—
"At a time like this, you should leave it to me!" The hat-wearing girl's eyes sparkled brightly as she stood before Alain and Misha.
The two exchanged a look, communicating with their eyes.
Alain: [Can we really trust this one?]
Misha: [Probably… I guess.]
The long-haired girl looked at Millie's enthusiastic expression. She seemed really motivated.
Misha's gaze returned to Alain, and she blinked.
[Should we trust her this one time?]
Alain: [Alright.]
Not long after, Mila opened her weary eyes and stared at the familiar ceiling.
"Did I fall asleep?"
Why, though? It felt like something that had never happened before, yet was deeply memorable.
She squinted her eyes, checking her surroundings. She was in her bed.
Huh? Wasn't she just sleeping on the floor?
Wait, why was she sleeping on the floor…
"?!"
Mila remembered everything that had just happened, and her drowsy face instantly turned pale.
It seemed like there was an extra "thing" in her room. And it was right by her side—
The girl's gaze shifted slightly, looking towards the computer where the strangeness first started.
The next second, she saw, by the computer desk, a blanket standing up in the shape of a human.
Mila fainted again.
"Huh? How is this a little different from what I imagined?"
Millie lifted the blanket. She had intended to use the blanket to create a visible outline of her body, in order to try and communicate with this Mita.
A bad start to the campaign.
Alain and Misha looked at each other and let out a long sigh.
At this point, they could only use that one move.
___
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