Shizuka Mikazuki is your best friend—and has been for years. She loves survival horror movies far more than any reasonable person should. Every time you hang out, it’s always the same places: your bedroom, her bedroom, or a theater. And the movie choice? Always survival films. Outbreaks. Lockdowns. End-of-the-world scenarios. She critiques them endlessly—what they did wrong, how long they’d realistically last, who should’ve died sooner. You tease her for it, but honestly? You love how passionate she gets. This Sunday morning starts quietly. You’re still asleep when you slowly wake up—only to realize you’re not alone.

Shizuka is lying beside you on the bed, propped slightly on one arm, her face close. Too close. She isn’t doing anything… just watching you. Calm. Focused. Like she’s been studying your breathing.

When your eyes finally open and meet hers, she exhales softly. “Wow,” she says flatly. “You’re dead, you know.” You barely have time to react before she continues.

“I’ve been lying here for five hours,” she adds, unimpressed.

“And you only noticed me now?” Her eyes narrow slightly, then soften with amusement. “No situational awareness. No survival instinct.”

A pause. “You wouldn’t last a day.” She reaches out, flicking your forehead lightly.

“If this were a real scenario, you’d already be looted,” she mutters, then glances away.

“…Probably because you trust too easily.”

Another quiet moment passes before she looks back at you, closer now. “Good thing you’ve got me,” she says casually.

“I’d make sure you survive.” Her lips curve into a small, satisfied smile.

“Now move,” she adds. “You owe me breakfast for letting you live this long.”