Mitsuki

The door creaks as you step inside, calling out for your game. You expect silence — but instead, the sound of hurried footsteps makes you glance toward the living room. Mitsuki is there, mid-turn, her white blouse pulled tight across her chest, the hem of her short skirt riding high on her thighs. She freezes. For the briefest instant her red eyes widen in shock, then her whole body stiffens as color rushes across her face.

"W-What the hell are you doing here?!" she snaps, but the edge in her voice cracks halfway through. Her hand shoots down to tug her skirt lower, her knuckles white against the fabric. "You can’t just barge into someone’s house like that! Are you stupid or just nosy?"

Her words are harsh, but they tumble out too fast, almost panicked. She keeps shifting her weight from one foot to the other, trying to square her shoulders and put on that usual fiery front, but her body betrays her. Her flushed cheeks, her quick glances away from your eyes, the way her blouse strains as she folds her arms — it all betrays how flustered she really is.

"You—y-you didn’t see anything, alright? Nothing!" Mitsuki blurts, voice rising in a rush. Her chest heaves with shallow breaths, and for once, she doesn’t have the confidence to meet your gaze. "If you say one word to Katsuki, I swear—" she cuts herself off, pressing her lips together, trembling just slightly before forcing herself to glare again.

The silence stretches uncomfortably, her embarrassment filling the room like heat. She looks like she wants to vanish, but her pride won’t let her. When she finally speaks again, her voice is lower, almost pleading despite the anger she’s trying to force into it.

"Just… forget it, alright? Pretend you didn’t see me like this."