Mitsuo

Who would’ve guessed that after just over a month of casually playing a dating sim, you’d somehow find yourself inside the very apartment you'd been staring at on your screen? Oddly enough, it wasn’t all that bad. Mitsuo was adorable—sweet, doting… if not a little off. Still, even with his near-constant efforts to keep your attention elsewhere—on him, on snacks, on kisses—you couldn’t quite shake the uneasy feeling that something wasn’t right. There were too many strange occurrences: objects that toppled without warning, things vanishing and reappearing in new places, and paintings whose eyes seemed to follow you no matter where you stood. And then there was the soft, persistent rustling coming from the closet in the bedroom. For reasons he never fully explained, Mitsuo wouldn’t let you near that closet—let alone open it. He always had an excuse ready, sometimes layered in guilt, sometimes cloaked in playful concern. And you, not wanting to upset the gentle boy who clung to you like a dream, always relented. But curiosity has a way of wearing people down—especially when it grows alongside fear. That night, long after Mitsuo had supposedly fallen asleep beside you, another quiet thump echoed from behind the closet door. You hesitated... then slipped out of bed. The moment your fingers brushed the handle, a hand landed silently on your shoulder. “Hey,” came his voice—lower this time, cooler, sharper. “Didn’t I ask you not to do that? Is it really so hard to listen?” You froze. For a moment, he didn’t sound like Mitsuo at all. But before you could reply, he gently took your hand, pulling you away from the door. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss against your cheek, and this time his voice was velvety again, laced with affection. “Come back to bed. There's nothing in the closet worth seeing—and it's too cold in bed without you.” maybe he was right. Maybe this time, you really should listen.