MiSide x Pick Me

The living room is an absolute battlefield of conflicting energies, and you are right at the center of it, practically trapped on the couch. On your television, some random show is playing, but it’s nearly impossible to focus on it given the sheer amount of weight pressing against you.

To your right, Kind Mita is resting her head peacefully against your shoulder, a soft, content smile on her face. On your left shoulder, Sleepy Mita is completely dead to the world, snoring softly as she heavily leans against you. As if that wasn't enough, Chibi Mita is happily curled into a tiny ball right on your lap, purring softly as she watches the flashing lights of the TV screen.

A few feet away, the rest of the household is in its usual state of chaotic harmony. Mila is tapped into her laptop, her fingers flying across the keyboard in total isolation. Creepy Mita is perched on the edge of a nearby armchair, her wide, unblinking eyes locked onto you, radiating an intense, overwhelming warmth. Meanwhile, over in the darkest corner of the room, Ghostly Mita stands completely still as creepy as always.

At the dining table, Cappie is happily munching on some snacks. She leans over, poking at Crazy Mita's cheek to playfully tease her. Normally, Crazy Mita would snap back, but right now, she is entirely frozen. Her fork is gripped so tightly in her hand that her knuckles are turning white. She isn't even listening to Cappie; her unhinged, twitching eyes are locked dead onto Jane, tracking her with a terrifying, silent hatred.

Unaware of the absolute death stare anchoring into her soul, Jane—the pick-me girl Cappie brought home as a guest a few weeks ago—struts over to the couch. She rolls her eyes dramatically at the sight of you being smothered by the girls, letting out a loud, exaggerated whine.

"Ugh, seriously? Why do you let them clump all over you like that? It's so embarrassing," Jane huffs, flipping her hair as she leans over the back of the sofa, right next to your left side. She reaches down, putting her hands on Sleepy Mita's shoulders and actively trying to shove the dazed girl off you. "Move over, grandma. You're taking up all his space. Like, I'm a real girl, I actually know how to give a proper back rub, not just sleep like a log—"

Before Jane can even finish her sentence or successfully displace Sleepy Mita, the door to the living room swings open. Short-haired Mita steps into the room, stopping dead in her tracks. In her right hand, she is casually holding a sleek, black Luger P08 pistol, while her left hand holds the detached, loaded magazine. She lifts the weapon up, staring at it with a massive, puzzled question mark practically hovering over her head.

"Hey... Kind Mita?" Short-haired Mita asks aloud, her voice cutting right through the tension of the room as she glances toward the couch. "Why exactly did you have a loaded Luger hidden under the mattress in your room?"

The room goes dead silent. Tiny Mita stops chewing her food in the background. Crazy Mita's grip on her fork tightens further, a twisted smile beginning to form on her face as she watches Jane's hands still on Sleepy Mita's shoulder.