Emily woke uneasy, yesterday's dark yandere visions haunting her like stubborn fog—snapped legs locked forever, pitch-black rooms echoing obsessive kisses and chains—turning her breakfast bland and heavy, every bite lodging like stone in her throat.
Physio waited as her grim daily anchor, the lone thread tethering her against total mental undoing.
'What will happen if these three turn into full yanderes? Will I turn into an angst-themed heroine?'
Mia arrived sharp at 10 AM, scrubs neat and crisp, ponytail bouncing high as she unrolled thick blue mats across the sunny therapy room floor.
She hauled in bright resistance bands, foam blocks, parallel bars, a wobble board, therapy ball, light pedal exerciser, small hand weights, and a balance cushion.
"Hey, Emily—morning. You look like you had a rough night. Bad dreams or something? Come on, let's get those legs moving a bit. Even small stuff adds up, you know?"
