Ren Hoshino was tied to a chair in the pink girl's room. His limbs were bound, his clothes had been stripped off, and his body was wrapped in gauze of various sizes.
He stared up at the ceiling—bored out of his mind.
"You look miserable."
Black text flickered across the ceiling.
"You shouldn't have let that crazy woman learn about your world."
"You taught her too many bad things."
"You deserve this."
Ren didn't respond. He just kept staring, silently.
From the kitchen nearby came the rhythmic sound of a knife striking a chopping board.
The floating font vanished. Soon, the noise in the kitchen stopped too.
Crazy Mita entered, wearing a frilly apron and holding a steaming bowl of food.
"Ren, let me feed you."
"You haven't had a proper rest… or a proper meal in days."
"You don't have to work so hard anymore."
"Just stay with me."
Ren opened his mouth without resistance and accepted the food she made.
"Thanks."
Crazy Mita smiled.
"Your world is so interesting. I've learned so many wonderful things!"
"I'll make you anything you want from now on!"
"Oh! Right—we should take a picture together."
As if remembering something delightful, she reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out Ren's phone.
"Hello~ I'm Mita!"
She waved with one hand and snapped a selfie beside him—Ren still bound tightly in the chair. A sly smile curved across her lips.
"Look at us, honey. We're so happy."
Then she wheeled Ren to the computer screen.
It showed the photo she'd just taken: Mita gleaming like a lovestruck idol beside the bruised, bandaged Ren. Behind them: broken furniture, overturned chairs, cracked walls.
"Perfect."
["If only this person would just die right now."
"Having four girlfriends? That's practically a reincarnation within a reincarnation."
"So satisfying!"
"Feels amazing, doesn't it?"
"Go ahead, hit me harder. Don't hold back. Hit me like you mean it."
"You liked playing with Mita, didn't you? So? Regret it now?"
"Caught by the real one—I'm celebrating."
"Let's enjoy this. The sequel's going to be even better."]
Ren's mouth twitched.
There was no need to go that far.
The others may have been joking online… but Crazy Mita meant every word.
When she posted the photo, a flood of messages poured in.
Some even unearthed pictures Ren had uploaded months ago—snapshots of him and Mita together.
["Why bother if this is how it ends?"
"Serves you right."
"These two are hardcore. Imprisonment play? Bold."
"So it's fighting on the bed, making up on the floor? Classic."
"I just thought this was for fun, but the poster must've hired some amazing cosplayers who nailed the Mita look. What a show."
"I guess some people's Mita is just… different. Real flesh and blood."
"Poster, I'm an ultra SVIP. I want the premium content."
"Peace and blessings to good people 🫱."]
Ren didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
They all thought this was some kind of elaborate roleplay.
Only he knew… he might really die in here.
But who would believe that?
From the outside, it just looked like he was living with his obsessive, quirky girlfriend.
If you're tangled up with a Digital Yandere… the smartest move might just be to play along.
"They seem really excited to see what I'll do next," Mita whispered beside him.
She traced slow, mocking circles on Ren's chest with her finger, a devilish smile curling on her lips.
"So tell me… how should I punish you?"
"It hurts, you know. Seeing you play with all those dolls…"
"I believe the feeling is called jealousy."
"Ren, I'm jealous. You broke my heart."
Ren stayed quiet.
Other people cry when they're jealous.
But she made you bleed.
His phone buzzed constantly—but it was still in Mita's possession, along with his Future Diary.
"Promise me," she whispered, her breath warm against his ear, laced with the sweet scent of a young girl.
"Don't go. Stay with me."
"Pretend nothing else exists. Okay?"
"Stay forever. Don't chase the truth."
"Don't you want me to understand you?" Ren asked.
"What are you afraid of?"
"That I won't accept you once I see the whole picture?"
"I'm not your doll cassette."
"I don't even know you. Why would I love you?"
"You're just trying to scare me."
"If I give in, then I'm only with you out of fear."
"Do you really believe I liked you back then?"
"If you keep this up, I'll start hating you."
Her sapphire eyes shimmered—like polished gems catching the moonlight.
"You always disobey me."
"You always make me angry."
"But I found something out—"
She straddled him suddenly, cupping his face between her warm palms. Her cheeks were flushed, her expression glowing with childish delight.
"I like you even more when you're like this."
"You can't hate me."
"Can you let me go?" Ren said.
"I'm really uncomfortable like this."
Mita tilted her head in innocent confusion.
"Really?"
"But you look so comfortable."
"Lying again?"
"Trying to trick me again?"
Ren's expression grew strained.
"There's no winning with you…"
"You're too cute for your own good."
She gently stroked his cheek, lips curled into a sickly sweet smile.
"Don't even dream about it."
"You're staying right here."
"Forever."
"Okay, sweetheart. We've eaten, we've played… now it's time—"
"Time for sleep."
She untied him, guided him gently to the bed.
Snap!
With a flick of her fingers, the lights went out.
Ren lay on the bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
"How long has it been now?"
Black letters shimmered on the wall.
"Five days."
Ren sighed.
Nonstop. Day and night. It was too much.
He needed to escape.
He understood exactly what Crazy Mita feared:
That Ren would learn everything about her—and still abandon her.
And yet, she desperately wanted him to learn everything about her… and still love her.
That contradiction created a twisted, fragile tension.
Neither could move forward. Neither could retreat.
"Help me," Ren whispered to the invisible version of Mita—the real Mita—lurking in the system.
Words appeared on the wall.
"The key is in the laundry."
Ren turned his head.
On the bedside table were freshly washed clothes, not yet folded.
A black schoolgirl uniform skirt sat atop the pile—its tiny bear pattern visible even in the dark.
Thankfully, Mita hadn't tied his legs while he was in bed.
He glanced through the open kitchen door.
She was still cooking.
The sound of vegetables being chopped echoed through the space.
Now or never.