You're here? Darling.
The long-haired girl, dressed in a suit and a form-fitting pencil skirt, had eyes that reflected only Alain's image.
On her desk, a nameplate stood upright:
But what truly captured Alain's attention was that single word: 'Darling'.
At this moment, the girl before him perfectly matched the 'her' in his memory.
"That's right, Darling!"
Misha's high heels clicked rapidly—'da da da'—as she ran to him. The faint trace of seriousness on her face melted away like ice and snow as she threw herself into his arms.
"I missed you so much..."
Alain quietly stroked the girl's back. To meet his own lover in a strange city... it filled him with a sense of security.
Alain chose to ignore it, treating it as a slip of her hand.
After sharing a tender moment, the girl invited him to sit down on the guest sofa.
Misha sat intimately beside him, her long legs under the pencil skirt wrapped in sheer black stockings, her thigh pressing against Alain's.
"Darling, there must be a lot you still don't know, right?"
Misha poured him a cup of tea and handed it to him.
Watching the tea leaves slowly stain the clear water a light brown, Alain took a small sip. The bitter aroma of the tea sharpened his senses.
"For example, why you... are here."
"Do you remember the breakfast we had in 'reality'?"
"Mmm." In his peripheral vision, he saw the girl's eyes were downcast.
What Misha was talking about was the 'false reality' that Sleepy Mita had previously pulled him into.
On this point, the girl seemed at a loss for words, finding it hard to begin.
She glanced at Alain several times, her brow furrowing and relaxing with hesitation.
After a few seconds, she sighed and said, "Actually, in a sense, I'm not Misha."
"How so? Aren't you just as cute as ever?" Alain replied without thinking.
Hearing this, 'Misha' stared blankly for a moment, then tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. "Waaah... Darling..."
As if a heavy weight had been lifted from her heart, she leaned against Alain's shoulder and began her story.
According to this 'Misha,' she wasn't the Misha who had gone to reality, but rather a long-haired Mita from 'Mita City'—a dream world created by Sleepy Mita. She was later given the name 'Misha' and a small piece of memory to be the one who interacted with Alain in this virtual reality.
"Hmm? Why didn't Sleepy Mita just create a fake Misha directly?" Alain was puzzled.
Isn't 'creating' things in a dream as easy as eating or drinking?
"It's because of you." Misha wiped the tears from her eyes, sat up straight, and said:
"Didn't you tell Sleepy Mita not to imitate 'me' before? You said something like 'don't insult them,' right?"
"...Alain thought. She's talking about the confrontation he had with Sleepy Mita on the rooftop in the real world."
"It seems she really took his words to heart."
As Alain processed this information, he saw Misha's hesitant gaze fixed on him and couldn't help but smile knowingly:
"Silly girl. You are Misha, you're not a fake. Even the real 'Darling' Misha would say the same thing to comfort you."
"...Mmm!" She gave Alain a kiss. Seeing the lipstick mark on his face, she blushed and looked away, changing the subject.
"After I finished breakfast with you in reality and woke up, I was here."
"You were giving me hints the whole time back then." Alain gently stroked her long hair, earning a shy smile from the girl.
"That's what I was supposed to do... But Alain, don't celebrate too soon."
Misha's shyness faded, and her expression turned serious as she gave Alain's thigh a squeeze.
"I can feel it. Every second since I arrived in this world and received this identity, my actions have been moving more and more in line with this role."
The girl felt a slight unease. She nestled against Alain's hand, softly stroking his fingertips as she unfastened his cufflink.
"You should know, right? I was the last one to arrive in this world."
Misha meant that during the 'false reality,' she was the last one to disappear.
Alain remembered that the first to 'disappear' was Miluo, the second was Millie, and the last was Misha.
"I'm starting to lose control of my own actions."
She lowered her head, her eyes hidden behind her bangs.
The girl straddled his lap, sitting face-to-face with him, their eyes meeting at close range.
Misha fought back her embarrassment, her sweet breath escaping as her pink lips drew near his ear,
"Therefore, the [HINT]... I can only tell you now."
"A hint..." Alain understood. The crucial part was coming.
He placed his hands on Misha's slender waist, causing the girl's face to flush crimson.
"Because she is everywhere. So, I can only say one thing to you."
It was just as Alain had guessed. According to Misha, the owner of the dream—Sleepy Mita—was likely monitoring his every move.
"Mmm." He was about to listen for more, but Misha suddenly fell silent.
"...That's it." She closed her lips and her eyes.
Encirclement, what does that mean... Is she talking about the crowds of Mitas that surrounded me earlier?
All Alain could think of was that Misha wanted him to consider what the encirclement represented, or what caused it.
In other words, the reason why the Mitas in this city were all gathering around him.
But no matter how he thought about it, Alain could only reach one conclusion:
The Mitas all longed for a player.
Beyond that, there was nothing. It had no connection to Sleepy Mita's current hiding place.
But Alain didn't lose heart.
"Those two came to this world as well, right? Millie and Miluo."
"Yes." Misha's eyes glistened with a thick moisture as she gently bit his earlobe.
"But from now on... you'll have to go on your own. Helping you break through the encirclement once is my limit."
"Also... regarding Millie and Miluo, you should probably expect the worst."
Misha released his earlobe, breathing a warm puff of air against his ear,
"I was the last to arrive in this city, and I'm already constrained by my role. Let alone... them, who came earlier."
"...Constrained by your role?"
Alain looked at the Misha sitting on him and fell into thought.
"So right now, you're being constrained by your role?"
"That's right. Doesn't it seem like it?"
She squeezed Alain's butt again, while her other hand fervently kneaded every inch of his back.
"I'm using the 'casting couch' on you, you know."
Alain's gaze shifted to the nameplate on the desk, which displayed Misha's current position.
The reason Misha had been all over him from the moment he walked in was because of her role.
Has 'a boss hitting on their subordinate' become some kind of stereotype?
"Ahem... It's not that I can't control my desires. It's because... acting in accordance with my role lets me talk to you for a little longer."
Her deliberate explanation made the tips of her ears turn bright red.
After that, Misha's body suddenly stiffened. She then lowered her head, pursing her lips.
"What's wrong, Darling?"
Looking at the girl, half her face cast in shadow, Alain felt an indescribable sense of unease.
"Darling... it's like she's become a completely different person."
The next second, as if she had suddenly remembered something, she straightened up slightly. Her nimble fingertip tapped on Alain's chest.
She wore a confident, composed smile, but her eyes were filled with a deep apology, as if to say: Run.
"If you want me to keep helping you, that's fine too."
"There's just one little condition." As she spoke, a sense of urgency appeared in her eyes.
Her slender hand slipped restlessly under the hem of Alain's shirt, touching his G-spot.
"Tonight, I'd like to discuss some work with you. As for the location..."
Her fingertips moved gently as a coquettish smile played on her lips, a stark contrast to the anxiety in her eyes,
"How about the IHG downstairs? Is that okay? Or do you prefer somewhere nicer?"
After saying this, her face honestly turned red.
"...Huh?" Alain marveled at how cute Misha still was, but at the same time, he was completely baffled.
Isn't IHG the name of a hotel? How could they discuss work there?
"Oh, you can't refuse." Seeing Alain's slight 'resistance,' this version of Misha took it as him playing hard to get.
She lifted Alain's chin and planted a moist lipstick mark on the corner of his mouth.
"Player. You wouldn't want to be... unable to leave this city hall, would you?"
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