The sun rose over the Grand Zenith with a peaceful, golden light, but inside Unit 404, the air was vibrating with an invisible, high-frequency panic.
It happened at exactly 6:00 AM.
Karen bolted upright in her bed, her sheets tangled around her legs like a net. Her face was a shade of crimson that rivaled a sunset. In her head, the image was still vivid: a white altar on a grass court, the smell of summer rain, and Mikoto in a charcoal suit, sliding a ring onto her finger and saying, "I'm your coach for life, Karen."
In the next room, Marin was staring at her ceiling, her hand pressed against her racing heart. She had dreamed of a red carpet premiere, but instead of a co-star, Mikoto was there, holding her hand under the camera flashes, whispering, "You don't have to act anymore. I love the real you."
And in the laboratory-bedroom, Shino was sitting frozen at her desk. Her logic-driven brain was trying to categorize the data of her dream: a quiet library, the soft hum of a server, and Mikoto leaning over her shoulder to kiss her forehead, murmuring, "The Architect finally found the missing variable. It's us."
The Breakfast Battlefield
When the three sisters finally emerged into the kitchen, the sight of Mikoto standing at the stove, humming a quiet tune while flipping pancakes, was like a physical blow.
"Morning, everyone," Mikoto said, turning with a bright, easy smile. "Blueberry pancakes today. Shino, yours are shaped like a hexagon. Karen, yours have extra protein powder. Marin, I made yours into a little star."
Usually, the sisters would tease him or complain. Today, there was a deafening silence.
Karen looked at the pancakes, then at Mikoto’s forearms as he worked the spatula. She let out a small, strangled squeak and immediately dove under the table to "tie her shoe"—even though she was wearing slippers.
Marin tried to say "Thank you," but her voice came out three octaves too high. She snatched her plate and held it up to her face like a shield, her ears glowing pink through her blonde hair.
Shino walked to her seat with the stiffness of a malfunctioning robot. She didn't look at Mikoto. She stared at her hexagonal pancake with the intensity of a surgeon. "The... the thermal consistency is... adequate," she managed to choke out.
"Are you guys okay?" Mikoto asked, leaning over the counter to check Shino’s forehead. "You all look a little flushed. Is there a flu going around?"
As his hand reached out, all three sisters recoiled at once.
"DON'T TOUCH!" Karen barked from under the table.
"I'M JUST... VERY EXCITED ABOUT CINEMA!" Marin yelled at her star-shaped pancake.
"MY INTERNAL TEMPERATURE IS STABILIZING!" Shino announced to the ceiling.
Mikoto blinked, holding his spatula like a peace offering. "Okay... I'll just... put the coffee on."
As he turned his back, the three sisters exchanged a frantic, three-way glance. The "United Front" was gone. In its place was a silent, desperate question: Did they see it too?
Karen’s eyes narrowed at Marin. Marin’s lip curled at Shino. Shino’s glasses glinted with a newfound, competitive calculation.
The "Nightmare Triplets" were officially in love, and for the first time in their lives, they weren't sure if they wanted to share.
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and then Add to home screen.