The scarlet graffiti-like little person stood on the tatami behind her, "holding" the washi paper with the yokan on it. The "smile" spread on his face was hollow and fixed, yet seemed to silently and warmly urge—
Eat, eat.
"Don't come over—!"
Driven by sheer terror and instinct, Mirai sprang back like a startled rabbit, crashing with a "thud" against the tightly shut glass sliding door.
The door frame shook slightly, emitting a muffled sound.
"Alright."
Unexpectedly, the scarlet graffiti-like little person responded in such a plain tone with a youthful voice.
Then, he really turned "his head," took short, scribble-like "legs," and dashed away, heading towards the center of the room.
The little person ran towards an area bathed in warm light in the center of the room.
There sat a low wooden table, surrounded by two little girls.
One girl had twin ponytails with snow-white hair, wearing a black-and-white dress, her skirt fluffy.
