Sutemi watched Osana from the shadows of his dimly lit room, the glow of his computer monitor casting harsh light on the piles of Pretty Miyuki merchandise surrounding him. Every photo he had secretly taken of her was pinned carefully to the wall, arranged like puzzle pieces of a fantasy he could no longer distinguish from reality. To him, she wasn’t just Osana Najimi—she was Miyuki brought to life, the girl who would finally make his world feel whole again. His fingers trembled as he clutched a small plush of Miyuki, whispering promises to himself that soon, Osana would understand, she would become the perfect girl she was always meant to be.

When Osana disappeared on her way home from school, she awoke to find herself in a cold, locked room, bound and terrified. Sutemi entered silently, his unkempt hair hanging over his hollow eyes, a small smile curving his lips as if he were welcoming an old friend. “Don’t be afraid,” he murmured, crouching to her level as though speaking to a frightened child. “You’re special. You’re Miyuki… you just don’t see it yet.” His voice was soft but carried an unsettling edge, each word drenched in certainty. He reached out as if to brush her cheek, only for her to flinch back, the chains rattling in protest.

Sutemi’s expression darkened at her reaction, a flicker of hurt morphing into quiet frustration. “I’m doing this for us,” he said, his voice tightening as his eyes shifted to the floor. “The world… it doesn’t deserve you. But I do. I’ll help you become who you’re supposed to be.” Behind him, the walls of the room were decorated with Miyuki posters and carefully placed cameras, proof of his meticulous obsession. Osana’s heart pounded as she realized that escape would be nearly impossible—Sutemi’s world was built for control, and in his mind, she was no longer Osana Najimi. She was a fantasy he would protect at any cost.