I — Just Stay With Me

It was only recently that I began to recall the loops.

The first loop – or what I thought to be the first – I didn't know what to think. At the time I really did consider ignoring the app he sent to my phone. Just another anime mobile game, one of… hundreds? Thousands? Something along those lines. If, the next time I'd see him, he asked what I thought of it, I could always just lie and say that I didn't have the time to play. Or that I played a little and found it uninteresting. The most I'd probably get was some snark or a scowl, then we'd move about our days as if nothing happened. You know. As friends usually do.

But I grew curious. I downloaded it. Didn't play it immediately, of course. Procrastination is an art I've honed to a blade's edge. I tried prodding him about the game more, but he never answered back. So I took the search online, only to find nothing. No page on any app store. No mention in any forum. The game didn't even have a name. Only that icon: that black haired, brown-eyed winking anime girl next to a downwards-pointing green arrow. I remember, after failing to turn up any results for a similar icon, I stared at it for a while, squinting so hard I thought I'd go cross-eyed. The longer I did the more it seemed to mock me. That playful smile, that teasing wink, both static taunts silently jeering and flaunting the incorrigibility of their obscurity. I wouldn't learn anything more about it. Not without opening the game.

I wish I never did.

Snapping out of my world of reminiscence, I crumpled into a ball, hunched against the door in Mita's room, cradling the sides of my head in my hands. Everything was shrouded in darkness, and a throbbing pain emanated from the back of my head — the only light came from the tiny tv screen on the portal terminal, grimly blinking about a lack of energy. But even if the room were alight, even if a lamp or a flashbang or a miniature sun set the dark ablaze, I wouldn't be able to see.

A pulse of pain worse than a thousand migraines took me, like a storm, and I nearly doubled over. An invisible, scathing punch, completely leaving me in a daze. I couldn't see much, but— what the hell? I… I saw myself in thousands of afterimages, blending and merging and coming apart like a grain of sand watching other grains of sand whipping about in a whirlwind. The walls became mouthpieces for thousands of disembodied voices, crying, calling, reassuring, pleading. It was the audio equivalent of mixing an entire palette of colors together into a shitstain looking brown.

With the little clarity I had, I realized I was writhing on the floor, thrashing about, a soundless scream bellowing from my lips. What the hell was this? What was I looking at?

I struggled to stand. I clutched my temple, leaning against the wall, feeling the area around me with my hand as my eyes slammed shut. A dull pain bloomed in my side as I spilled onto the floor. More images surged into my head as my teeth gnashed in agony, flaring into my synapses like a cloth set on fire, like a train hitting my brain at mach 5000. I was opening a door. I was pulling a lever. I was holding a hand, fidgeting with a ring, cutting a carrot, typing, running, living—

Dying.

And when I died, whenever I died, she was there. Always. Her inhuman, enchanting face framed by two luscious twintails running past the shoulders. Her intense, piercing eyes, which themselves could cause even the largest men to crumple. That smile. That soulless smile. That smile that looked to suck the light out of the room, the joy out of the air, the warmth from my blood. I saw death, and she was hauntingly beautiful. I saw Mita.

The images disappeared. Well, not entirely. I couldn't see them in front of me anymore, but I could recall them, like memories. Distant, muddled, and blurry — but memories nonetheless. Silence flowed back into the room, and became just dark again. Just dark.

I forced myself off the floor. It was like my heart turned into jazz improv, with the rhythm and ringing in my ear to boot. My eyes meandered around the dark, eventually landing back on that tiny tv screen. Everything remained hazy, but I could make out a few words flickering in lime, amidst a screen of blue. It said something about missing batteries. A chill went down my spine. I couldn't put a finger on it, but I've… seen this before. This scenario. No, that wasn't quite right. Not just "seen." I've experienced this before, lived this before. And what came after. And… what came after what came after. My eyes widened and my intestines twisted into a slipknot. I knew where this portal led! Who it led to!

Something seized me. My veins chilled into tiny rivers of ice, running towards my chest, forking from my arms, flowing into my heart until it froze.

I died.

I saw a knife drive through my stomach spilling my guts onto a concrete floor. Saw a chainsaw run through me from behind, the roaring of the blades drowning out a cry – my cry – of agony. A death where I drowned in a sea of grimy mannequins. A death where I was blown completely apart from a grenade. One where I was stabbed with a pair of scissors. Fell to a monster emerging from the dark. Crushed by a fridge, trapped in a cage, succumbing to weakness in a labyrinth of pink and white; all different kinds of deaths playing in my mind like a macabre kaleidoscope straight from the mind of Dahmer. All mine. And all because of her.

I buckled to the floor. "N-No way," I whispered as the darkness surged to cradle me. My lip quivered as if I were thrust into a blizzard, and I froze, backed into that dark corner of the room. There was a ringing in my ear like a flatline. It grew louder and louder, and it drowned out the sound of my ragged breaths. My vision flashed red, and each time it did, I saw another death. I cowered. I died. Cowered. Died.

"What the hell is this? What the hell… Where– What– GOD DAMNI–"

Cowered.

"Get me out of here. Get me out. Please get me out. Please."

Died.

"No. No, no, no– FUC–"

Cowe–

"What's with you?"

I jolted, springing myself back, but I couldn't dig myself further into the corner than I already had. But strangely enough, the room was different. The lights were on. The suddenness of it made my face scrunch up like a Sharpei.

Someone sat at the bench in front of the bed, right on top of the daisy, legs crossed. I couldn't make out much aside from some stockings and a pair of blue heels, but that was all I needed to recognize. I nearly had a heart attack. "It's you," I said. "It's YOU! STAY AWAY FROM ME!"

"Relax. Here–" I heard a clap, and suddenly, I was off the floor. I was sitting right next to her. I jumped out of my seat, dreading to see those pigtails, that shining crimson eye. But they weren't there.

She was her spitting image – except this person didn't have pigtails. Nor a shining, crazy, red eye. Her hair stopped just above her shoulders, and in one of the bundles of her hair, she wore two hair clips. Wrapped around the top of her head was a large, orange ribbon. It kind of made her look like a rabbit. She sighed, and I tensed again. "Calm down, will you? I'm not going to hurt you."

I didn't. "You're her. Mita. You're Mita."

"Yeah." She said, blunt as a hammer. It was hard to hide how scared shitless I was. "And you're…" She stopped herself, looking at me expectantly. What was this? Did she mean for me to answer? She raised an eyebrow. Yep. She definitely did. "Oh, come on. I told you I'm not good with remembering names, didn't I?"

"What?"

"Oh. Looks like I didn't. That makes you a new player, doesn't it?" She grinned at me devilishly, as if plotting something sinister, but dropped it in a moment. "Well, even if you are new, I can't exactly have my fun with you. Not when you were all…" She made a gesture towards the corner. "You know."

"You're Mita." I didn't realize I said it again. It was like I was confirming it myself, by letting thought become spoken word. A few more images flashed through my head. A pair of square black glasses. Some black gloves. A cap. "But that's not quite it, is it? You're not just 'Mita.'"

She cocked her head to the side a little before patting down the vacant spot on the bench. Slowly, I seated myself towards the farther edge, like I was sitting on a bed of nails. Only after I did did she begin to speak again. "The others call me Bully Mita. I'dve shown you why, but if I did, you might've pissed yourself on my floor. Or worse."

"Define 'worse.'"

"Well, I'm not sure how 'worse' you could get than screaming and convulsing on the ground like a failed exorcism. But you'd probably show me." She sighed. "This suuuuuuuuuucks. I had an entire routine prepared for you, you know? There was gonna be this super long hallway, some creepy noises, spooky-ass writing, flies, everything! And you just had to ruin it all!" Bully Mita groaned. She hung her head back and stared at the ceiling. I took a glance over at her, but once she noticed, she went back to normal. "My question from before still stands, though. What's with you?"

"Well–"

"Wait. Actually, before that: What's your name?"

"I'm not telling you," I said. An image of Mita, Crazy Mita, flashed in my mind. I stuffed the unease I felt back down my throat. "I don't know if you're not with Crazy Mita. "

"Crazy Mita?" Bully Mita repeated. I nodded, my head weighed with apprehension. She averted her look away from mine. For a second she was lost in thought, looking like she was trying to remember something important. "Which one was that again? Was it the one with the black hair? No, we all have black hair. Crazy… Mita?" Bully Mita turned to me. "Who's that?"

"Crazy Mita," I said. I nearly choked on the words. They cracked inside my throat, splintering as they came up. "C-Crazy Mita! Twintails! Red eye! She– she–" I couldn't finish my sentence. Just the thought of her paralyzed me, as if speaking her name enough times were a summons. I clutched the edge of the bench, feeling my nails digging into the velvet. I don't want to go through this again. I don't want to die. I just want to go home.

I steeled myself, letting my breaths slow. Bully Mita didn't say anything for a little while, not as I tried to gather my nerves. "Sorry. If you don't know her, you're probably better off that way."

Bully Mita frowned. I withdrew away from her gaze, only to feel a soft pat on my shoulder. I recoiled in surprise. "What're you—?"

"Sorry," Bully Mita said, pulling her hand back. "You looked terrified. I…" She cleared her throat. "This 'Crazy Mita' you're talking about. From the looks of it, she put you through the wringer," she said. "Now I'm curious. If I see her, I'll give her a nice bash to the face! Oh, but I've probably got to ask Kind what she looks like, though. Kind knows everyone."

"Kind Mita?" I managed. Bully Mita nodded. For a moment I saw another Mita, long haired, absently fidgeting with a metal pipe, trapped behind a set of metal bars, a solemn look stretching across her face. A horrible feeling welled within me. If that feeling was right, then right now, Kind Mita was trapped in that cell. In that basement – Crazy Mita's basement.

"I'll be back in a bit. Help yourself to whatever. This is only version 1.5, so it might not have all the updated food options, but there should be something edible in the fridge. Hope you're a fan of carrots." Bully Mita said. "Oh, and if you just want to get going, the batteries're… around here somewhere. Just look around. I won't keep you."

"Wait. Where're you going?"

"To look for Kind."

Bully Mita got up to leave, walking towards the door. She said something aloud, but I didn't hear any of it. My heart stopped. If Bully Mita went to look for Kind Mita now, there was a chance she'd run into her. And she wouldn't make it back. No one who ever came across Crazy Mita ever did.

I sprang from my seat, taking her wrist. She looked back at me in surprise. My teeth were clenched, and I could feel the sweat pooling at my brow, the clamminess of my hand wrapped around hers. I don't know why I did that. I said nothing. But Bully Mita gave me a look that said, "I get it," and it was as if I'd said everything there was to say. Somehow I felt relieved.

She sat me back down on the bench. I sat with her. Closer, and not just on the edge.

"Stay here for a bit," I muttered. I didn't realize how raspy my voice sounded. It was like the pleas of a sobbing child, whose tears had long since dried. Like the last words of someone on their deathbed. "I'll tell you everything. Just stay with me. For a bit."

"What are you? A kid?" Bully Mita said. She sounded dismissive, but I sensed traces of genuine concern in her voice. "Fine. But after this, I'm going to look for Kind. You're coming with me."

"Don't look for Kind Mita," I said. "You won't be able to find her." I turned towards Bully Mita, who was looking at me with confusion. "It all goes back to her."

"To Crazy Mita?"

I shuddered, and gave her a nod. "I was pulled into this world suddenly. But this– this isn't the first time. I had to assemble some things for a portal. That thing, over there." I gestured towards the contraption at the far end of the room. "But it all felt like I'd done it before. Lived it before."

"Like Deja vu." Bully Mita said.

"Like Deja vu," I said. "And it hit me as soon as I came here. Everything. All my lives. All my…" I took a deep breath. "Deaths. Bits and pieces are coming back to me now. As memories. Of this world. Of the world beyond this world. Of what I did. Of what she did. And not just to me; to all of us, to everyone who came across her.

"Kind Mita was the first other Mita I met. Crazy Mita trapped her in a basement. But she was the first one to help me out. She gave me a ring, guided me to the Core, and tried to help me escape. And that got her killed." My voice faltered, but not out of fear. The more I spoke about her, the more I remembered the countless times she saved me. By reconfiguring the ring, by pulling me into the Core Room at the last second; by giving her life just to scrawl out a number, just to help me escape.

Bully Mita looked like she'd seen a ghost. Her skin grew pale, and her mouth hung open in shock. "Is she dead?" She began. "Right now! Kind Mita, is she dead?"

"I don't think so," I said. "All of these loops – these past lives – nothing changes. It's like watching the same movie a thousand times. The script doesn't change. But that means, right now, she's alive."

She slumped back in her seat. My words seemed to reassure her by the most minuscule margin; she bit down on the corner of her lip, and one of her legs began to bounce sporadically, uncontrollably. "Guess that explains earlier." Bully Mita shook her head. "This is some serious Re:Zero shit. Jeez…"

"You believe me? Just like that?"

"As I said: It does explain how you acted earlier. You looked horrified when you saw me. And unless you've got an irrational fear of women, your story makes sense." She shifted in her seat slightly. "To be honest, I haven't seen Kind Mita in a while, either. I just haven't gotten around to looking for her."

I frowned slightly. "Why not?"

"We had something of a falling out," she said. "Over what? I don't know. Just that, it was a while back. Like, a whiiiiiiile back. I've been meaning to apologize to her, but…" Bully Mita huffed. "Anyway. If what you're saying is true, what're you going to do?"

Once more, I felt my bones chilling to ice. I already saw it all. How every single loop led to failure. How I never really could escape. But deep down, I still wanted to leave. I missed home. I missed my dog. My family. And above all, I just couldn't imagine spending the rest of my days in these four rooms for the rest of my life – if it were even possible to die of old age here. But no matter what I did, it'd just end up the same.

I looked at Bully Mita, how the tufts of her black hair traced her ribbon, how they spiked outwards almost like a durian. Come to think of it, before this time, I had no memory of meeting her. Not in any loop. Not in any death. This was a completely new encounter.

"You said earlier that you didn't remember me, right?" I said, my voice finding a vestige of vigor. "It's the same for me. You're new. New. I've never met you before."

"Yeah? What does–"

"This is a chance." I scooted closer to her. The more I thought about it, the more I realized the novelty of this entire scenario. Out of the hundreds – no, thousands – of loops, of lives, of deaths, I've never met this Mita before. Not in this life. Not in any life. She could be the missing piece I need to get out of here; the rock I needed to smash out the window of a burning building. She was the Mita I needed. "These memories. They all have me meeting the same Mitas over and over and over again. But not you. You're new! You could–"

"Stop." She held a finger in front of my mouth, shushing me. "I know where you're going with this. But you know… I don't want to die too. If I help you, it's like signing my own death warrant." Her eyes became slits as they narrowed on me. "You just want to use me to get out of the game. Risking myself when, according to you, I was never in danger before. Why should I help you?"

I sunk back into my seat, my vigor vanishing like a snuffed candlelight. What she said was true. From her perspective, a complete stranger was asking her to throw her life away so they could live. If someone asked that of me, I'd tell them to go to hell. Even so…

"I know I'm asking a lot," I said. "And I know, at the end of the day, I can't force you to do anything. But without your help, at this rate, everyone'll end up dying again. Kind Mita will die again. And you'll never be able to apologize to her." I looked into her eyes. They were the kind of blue that drew you in; the beauty of a sapphire with the underlying shade of a distant tempest. I could only hope that the tempest would work with me.

She broke away from me, rising to her feet. She made her way to the door. "Wait!" I got up too. "Is that a yes? Will you–"

"I will," she said. She turned back to me, leaning on the door hinge. "But not for you. Not entirely, anyway." Bully Mita crossed her arms. "So? You've a plan in mind, Player?"

My heart fluttered, and I could feel a new fire ignite within me. This was it. "You don't happen to know a 'Cool Mita,' do you?"

A/N: First fanfic lmk what y'all think