MiSide: Taming Crazy Mita

"Save me?"

Kind Mita tilted her head in confusion.

"This controller belongs to you, Ren Hoshino. How could it possibly save me?"

"Still," she added softly, "thank you for thinking of me."

Ren gave a weary smile. The shadows under his eyes were unmistakable.

Kind Mita approached him gently, brushing his cheek with concern.

"You do look tired."

"It's nothing I can't handle," Ren replied.

"I've just been chased by an adorable psycho girl for a month straight. No big deal."

But then his expression shifted. His voice became more serious.

"If you've come this far to find me, then don't go back alone."

Mita blinked. "What do you mean?"

"You're in danger too. So stay. Come with me."

"Ren, that's sweet, but—"

"Just promise me."

He knew she wouldn't understand yet, not until she saw it for herself.

He also knew that, being who she was, she'd eventually search for Crazy Mita's character number—and fail. Because Crazy Mita… never had one.

Kind Mita hesitated, then nodded.

"Alright. I promise."

Ren activated his controller, accessing his point of view.

It was time to release version 1.9, but secretly. He briefly considered installing it into Mita, but he knew how that would end.

Kind Mita would never pull his cassette—not even to save herself.

She'd die first.

This part… had to be his job.

"By the way," Ren asked, "have you checked the controller recently?"

Mita replied with a shake of her head, but her eyes drifted away a little too quickly.

"Let's get back to the real issue," she said, avoiding his gaze.

"We need to resolve this before things spiral again."

Ren let the moment go.

"Quick question—can you jump between versions without the ring?"

"Of course. I'm Mita. I can enter other versions freely."

"What about Mila's version? Can you access it without the ring?"

Mita's face darkened.

"Mila's version… it's glitched. Hard to get back in.

Without the ring, you'll need to rely on pure luck—try walking the same road again."

Ren nodded. "That's fine. I have a workaround."

His phone still held partial permissions and had logged Mila's version from earlier. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

Once this was over, he'd find her again.

Kind Mita turned toward the sealed red curtain blocking the core room.

"These Mitas," she said bitterly, "they're all trapped in isolated versions."

"You know who's behind that," Ren replied grimly.

"That crazy woman…" she whispered.

They both stared at the red light curtain.

This was the end of the line.

Ren exhaled. "Mita… what if we can't reset Crazy Mita? What then?"

Mita's expression faltered.

"Don't say that. There has to be a way."

Ren shook his head.

"Not without a character code in the core. But Crazy Mita has no version, no number.

She's unregistered. Untouchable."

Mita crossed her arms tightly.

"That can't be true. How do you know all this?"

"I've been here more than once," Ren replied.

"I've seen things you haven't. The version number—0098—belongs to the Twin-Tailed Mita. Not Crazy Mita."

Her eyes widened.

"Wait… Ren, are you a cassette?!"

Only cassettes retained memories between loops.

Fear crept into her face.

Had everything she'd done—every word, every smile—been within Crazy Mita's calculations?

She stepped back in panic.

Ren moved calmly through the core's barrier.

It let him through.

Which meant…

"I'm not a cassette," he said, turning back to her.

"See? First time here."

She exhaled in relief.

The core only allowed true 'players'—not recycled memory data.

"Try it," she urged.

Ren approached the control console. With practiced hands, he entered the access codes.

One by one, role data scrolled into view.

He stepped aside so she could see.

"It needs a role code to reset anyone."

"But," he added, "Crazy Mita has no code."

"It's over, Mita."

She stared at the screen, her heart sinking.

"No… no way…"

"Is there really no way to fix this broken world?"

She sounded so helpless.

Ren looked upward at the Core Mita, sitting like a statue above the terminal. Her golden eyes gleamed as she watched him silently.

"Do you know how to stop her?" he asked the Core.

No response. Only that same steady stare.

"She's always like this," Mita said.

"She guards the core. But she'll never help."

Ren gave a small laugh.

"Cool."

He smirked at Core Mita—who followed his every move—and walked out.

Even the curved chair she sat on turned to face him as he exited the core.

"There's no reset," he told Kind Mita.

"No 0098 character. No restart.

The version isn't even hers."

Kind Mita sank to the floor, curling up in the corner.

Ren walked over quietly.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine," she whispered.

"But if we don't solve this…"

Ren placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't worry. I've got a plan."

"I'm going to deal with Crazy Mita myself."

She looked up, worried.

"H-How do you fight a girl with a chainsaw?"

"That's not some kitchen knife for cutting carrots."

"And she's incredibly strong."