Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You wake up for the new day, still reeling from the one before. Sayori’s breakdown and the tearful admission of her depression took precedence over whatever else it was that you were doing. It had been a very difficult conversation, both of you crying throughout, but a warm, secure embrace, that she fully reciprocated, gave you hope that you would get through this together. You would become a better friend to her from now on, be more like the friend that she had been to you for so long.

But you knew part of helping her would be spreading the smiles she wanted to see at the festival, and that meant a lot of hard work. You feel a little guilty, with the other girls having spearheaded most of the other efforts. Natsuki with her baking, Yuri’s decorations, and Monika getting the word out with her posters, and her presumably wide social circle. Still, you did manage to find the time to help someone yesterday, before tending to Sayori. You still resolve to put in maximum effort today.

Throwing on your uniform, you step out of your front gate to see something surprising. Sayori was there already, waiting for you. “No oversleeping this morning?” You tease, immediately regretting it. Before, you would have fun making that little joke at her expense, but now you know what her oversleeping really was. But before you could even respond, she beams back to you and laughs, her usual carefree laugh, the one you thought couldn’t possibly hide any sadness under its surface.

“Oh, you, same jokes as always! Can’t be late today, can we?” Nudging you with her shoulder, you both begin to walk towards school, same as you always do. “I’m so excited for the festival!” She almost sings, before looking at the ground awkwardly. “I’m sorry I distracted you yesterday, I’m sure the other girls needed all the help they could get…”

“I won’t hear it,” You say back. “You needed help too. I’m sure they did just fine.”

“Yeah,” Sayori nods, turning a little brighter. “They’re all so amazing! We’re going to give it our all too, right?”

Nodding back to her, you both arrive at the school, seeing it in all of its festival-clad glory. Food stalls, small mock-cafes, even a haunted house, passed by as you make your way to the club room. “The competition is pretty fierce,” Sayori notes, with a nervous laugh.

“So are we,” You retort, both of you snorting at the notion. Your comment was genuine however. Even though you have only been a member of the literature club for barely a week, the connection you feel with your fellow club members is undeniable. You care deeply for all of them, all in different ways, and would do anything to make this day a success. If you knew you could have gained this sense of place and fulfillment before, perhaps you would have joined a club earlier in the year!

Entering the club room, you are not disappointed with the other girls efforts. The tables have all been pushed aside to make a performance area, covered with elaborate decorations, courtesy of Yuri, and fantastic looking cakes, made by Natsuki’s hands. The two girls, while looking a little frazzled, smile as you both enter, and Monika too nods appreciatively as you pass the threshold. “I am so happy to see you two!” She says, stepping towards you both, with the other girls in tow.

“Yes,” Yuri agrees, the usual waver in her voice slightly less pronounced than usual, “I am glad to see you are both alright.” She claps her hands over her mouth immediately. “I am so sorry if that was forward- Monika told me all about yesterday and-”

True to past form, Sayori just laughs her concerns away. “It’s no problem Yuri, I’m just so glad you all care…”

Tears were starting to brim again from your best friend’s eyes, but Natsuki knew how to defuse a particularly wet situation. “I don’t know about care,” she drawls with her usual flippancy, “but we need all the hands we can get here. Chop chop!” She claps, Sayori smirking before sticking her hands on her hips.

“Okay! What needs doing? Between me, Him, and you guys, we’ll have this done in no time!”

“It’s mostly little bits,” Monika admits, “Although we do have one big decision to make.” You tilt your head at her quizzically, and she sighs. “With all the other events going on, I have only been able to convince people to be an audience for our poetry recital at a specific time. This will only give one of us the opportunity to perform…”

The responsibility hung thick in the air. If you were going to be honest, everything that happened yesterday left you with no time to choose a poem, let alone write one. You voice those concerns.

Monika’s smile is filled with understanding. “That’s alright,” she says, “We have many talented poets here regardless, even though I am sure yours would have been a wonderful choice.”

“Well, I for one am pretty glad,” Natsuki declares. “Monika can do it! Most people are probably gonna be there just for you, right?”

“That would make sense,” Yuri timidly agrees, looking incredibly relieved that she might be able to avoid the audience.

Monika smiles at the praise, but shakes her head. “I am admittedly afraid that my poetry style might alienate some potential new recruits, it’s rather abstract after all…” She raises her head. “Perhaps one of Sayori’s cheerful poems would be the right choice?”

Her eyes widen at the suggestion. “Huh?! But I wasn’t well yesterday!”

“Poetry is the song of the soul,” Yuri spoke up, “Perhaps that will lend even more power to your  performance?”

“I did actually manage to write something last night,” she said listlessly, before frantically shaking her head. “But it’s not that good! And all of you guys are soooo good, it’s got to be one of you!”

Natsuki rolls her eyes. “I can already see this going in circles…”

Slowly, all the girls begin to lay their eyes upon you, Monika clicking her fingers. “I have an idea! As our newest member, You would have the best idea for whose poetry is most appropriate for a general audience, would you not?” Taken aback, you feel sweat begin to form at the back of your neck, exacerbated by your friend’s hopeful faces. “So, who do You think should perform this recital?”

“Yes, c’mon, You’ll have the best idea!”

“I don’t trust you to make the best decision, so you better make a good one here!”

“I hope you follow your heart…”

Who do You choose?

Chapter Text

“Sayori,” you say, everybody but her nodding firmly in agreement.

“Huh?!” She cries back, looking between you all. “But I wasn’t well, and I’m not talented, and I’m not ready, and a billion other things I’m sure!”

“As Yuri said, perhaps your problems are going to be your strength,” you tell her, with a smile that you hope is reassuring. “You already know that I love your poetry,” Amongst other things, you think to yourself, “and I’m sure the festival will too. You are the perfect person to represent the Literature Club.”

Sayori blushes deeply at your praise, but still helplessly turns to the girls to get another excuse. “Don’t look at me for help you wimp,” Natsuki squints, “You’re the one that wanted all this exposure!”

“Your poetry will make you the hero of the day!” Yuri decided grandly. “I wish you luck!”

“As Vice-President you are a little more flexible in your role than I,” Monika giggled. “While you attend to this role, the rest of us can focus on setting the stage. You can help her prepare, yes?”

You nod, allowing the other girls to move back to their chosen stations while you stay with a Sayori who was still in denial. “But my poem isn’t even good,” she insists, “I’ll only turn people away!”

She glared weakly at You when You shrug in response. “So what if it does? I’m happy with the club as it is if I’m being honest.” You cast an arm over Yuri, Natsuki, and Monika, all working in other corners of the room. “We all believe in you. You can do this.”

You take a seat on the desk at the front of the room, and Sayori joins you, sitting very close, and speaks quietly. “A lot has changed since yesterday, hasn’t it?” You feel her fingers, trepidatious, almost dancing on the back of your hand.

You quell her nerves by taking her hand wholly in yours. “It was about time.” You turn your head, and find yourself staring deeply into her bright blue eyes. “I just cannot believe how much you felt you had to hold back,” you say, rubbing circles on her skin with your thumb, to stop you from choking up as much as to reassure her, “and I’m not that that I can ever…”

“Stop,” she says firmly, but with an incredibly sweet smile. “You couldn’t have known, I didn’t make it easy for you!”

“Maybe,” You admit, “but for you to have lived with that pain, and for so long…”

“But now I have the best painkiller in the world!” She taps her lip. “Wait, maybe that’s not the right word… Cure? Whatever you are, I want regular doses!”

You smile at her, it was so her to stumble around her own analogy. “I’m prescribed for however long you need me, and probably longer after that.”

“No deadly side effects I hope?” She asks seriously, “I really don’t want my hair to change colour or anything.”

“Less sleeping in, and that’s not a side effect, it’s part of the medicine!”

She pretends to consider it. “Alllllllright, I’ll buy as many of you as I can! Or do I need a doctor’s-” she starts giggling uncontrollably, waving her free hand. “Nope, we can’t keep this up.”

You start laughing with her. “We’re a couple of dorks, aren’t we?”

“Did the big sign saying ‘Literature Club’ when we walked in give it away?”

“I suppose,” you concede, smiling.

You feel a sudden warmth, Sayori wrapping both of her arms around you, pulling herself closer.  “Thank you for being here,” she says softly, “In the club, for the walks to school, for yesterday, for all of those days…”

Yesterday had been incredibly difficult. You found out that Sayori spent many days just wishing for death, only one house away from you, and there was nothing you could have done if there was any moment where her resistance had been finally worn down.

Thankfully after her disappearance, you had the presence of mind to check up on her. She didn’t answer her door at first. It took throwing gravel at her window, something she liked to do to You when you were both younger, to gain entry into her room. It was messy, and disorganised, yet within all the chaos, the bed was made, giving the room a disturbing atmosphere. The sheets crumpled as You sat with her on the mattress.

“Sayori, what’s going on?” You ask. “You disappear from school, when the club needs you most,  after pushing us all so hard to do our best at the festival! It doesn’t make sense.”

“It’s nothing,” she started to say, her smile unfamiliar to You, and hollow. “I just wanted to step away for a bit, there’s no problem with me! Whatso… Ever…”

Her head snapped away from you, her eyes fixing on the floor. For a few moments, in absolute silence, you were at a loss for what to do. A cowardly part of you thought of leaving. She said things were fine, so they must be! But you knew that your friend was in pain, and worse still, the pain wasn’t nearly a fresh one. Getting down to the floor, you take her hands in yours, and look up into her eyes. “Come on,” you told her, “It’s me. We can tell eachother anything, right?”

She sooks her head, smiling sadly. “No. I won’t let you shoulder my burdens. You don’t deserve that, and I don’t deserve that.”

“I’m not giving you a choice here,” You insisted. “Seeing you like this tears me apart…”

Her eyes started to glisten at that. “I’ve failed then,” she sniffed, “I was trying so, so hard so you wouldn’t worry about my problems!”

She ripped her hands away from Yours at that, and slammed them onto her lap, into a rigid posture. You stayed in the same position, and asked softly, “What problems?”

“I’m depressed. Chronically. Unfixably.” Her words, low and hollow, crash over You. “Those days I ‘oversleep’? I just can’t find a reason to get out of bed. There’s no point, no reason, there’s only pain out there…” She looked at You, her cheeks damp, eyelids fluttering, trying to smile. “You’re my only bright spot some days, do you know that? I won’t ever be able to tell you how thankful I am for that, for keeping me here…” She gripped her thighs tightly. “Which is why it’s so hard that-”

She doesn’t get to finish that sentence, because You had already wrapped your arms around her. “I’m sorry you’ve been along for so long, while you were only next door,” You tell her. “I can’t believe it’s only just now I’m realising how important you are to me.” And You did realise. You thought of all of those walks to school. All of those times in class where she pushed You to try a little harder. All the times You treated her as some sort as nuisance, yet ignoring how she was always able to take You away from whatever was troubling You. “You’ve always been there for me. Now it’s time for me to be there for you.”

She reciprocated your embrace at that, but her crying became louder. “Of course you would say that! ” She sobbed. “You sweet, wonderful person you. But you have no idea how harder that makes things for me…” She pulled away from you then, so she could see your whole face, which at this point wasn’t free of tears either. “It would be hard because of how badly I want to be with you.”

Your answer came without hesitation, as you pulled her in tightly. “It’s not going to be that hard then, is it?”

“Are you sure you actually want to be with me?” Sayori asks, bringing You back to the classroom, and the impending festival. “I know I’m not very cool, and I don’t want you doing this just because you’re worried about me…”

“No, no, of course not,” You reassure her. “I’m honestly frustrated that I couldn’t realise how I felt sooner…” She hugs you tighter, but you smirk. “Besides, technology is pretty advanced these days, there’s got to be something out there that could make you cooler. Then again, you’re a special case...”

She punches you, playfully. “Hey! Maybe now we’re together you need to stop being so-” .

You hear a sharp whistle, startling you both and causing you to instinctively scoot away from each other. Of course, it’s Natsuki, who just rolls her eyes as hard as she can at the pair of you, which for her is of a considerable intensity. “It’s gonna be showtime, in like, ten minutes, and all you two are doing is making me wanna barf. You better not make us look bad!”

Sayori’s eyes grew wide. “Oh no no no, I am so not ready for this!” She grabs your shirt pleadingly. “You can cover for me right?! Tell Monika I’m sick or something!”

“I heard all of that!” Monika calls from near the door of the classroom.

“Ahhhh!” She pulls out an incredibly scrunched piece of paper from her blazer and starts scanning the words desperately. Realising you’re still right next to her with an “Eeep!” She turns herself the other way, shielding the paper with her body, crying “No peeping!”

“I wasn’t even looking,” You try to tell her, but to no avail. “You’re gonna do great, if you get lost, just look to me in the audience, alright?”

She groans at that. “I know that’s meant to sound reassuring, but that would make things even worse here.”

“Why’s that?”

Sayori’s face turns bright pink. “You’ll understand when you hear the poem...”

“People are arriving!” Monika announces, looking to each of the four other members of the club in turn. “Look friendly everyone!”

Other students begin to mill their way into the club room, an incredibly surreal sight considering it’s usual emptiness. Monika does most of the greeting, but Natsuki chips in with some of the first years, and Sayori, nervous as she was, couldn’t help but bounce over to some of the familiar faces in the crowd. You and Yuri are content to watch the scene from a distance, mulling over the cakes and decorations.

Once the room was suitably filled, Monika pulled Sayori to the performance area,and got the crowd’s attention. “Hello everyone, thank you for choosing to visit our club during this very busy festival! Now, I hope you enjoy this poem, written and performed by one of our own members. Sayori, everyone!”

Sayori smiles back at the polite applause, but her smile is more nervous than You have ever seen it. For a few moments, she just stands there, staring, until she remembers she needs the poem in her pocket for this poetry performance. You can’t help but smile at her embarrassed state as she pulls the paper out.

“Ehehe, sorry everyone…” She coughs. “This poem is called, My Sunshine and Me. ”

After a quick glance at You, she begins her performance.

My Sunshine and Me

A bright face is only a painting,
No matter how happy the picture,
It can be washed away, and maybe underneath,
It was never so happy.

But don’t worry about that!
When I start getting scared, or worried,
I just think of my favourite song,
And it takes me back to where I need to be.

So here it is, and maybe it will help you too!

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
(A dangerous thought, but still one quite wonderful!)

You make me happy, when skies are grey
(Even when those greys are dark and grim.)

You'll never know dear, how much I love you
(Not true anymore, actually, but then, I'm not sure if you could ever know how much!)

So please don't take, my sunshine away.
Please.

After the polite applause, You thoroughly embarrass Sayori by pushing her towards her newfound public. You feel happy as you watch her receive praise from your fellow students, and by the looks of things, some of them might come to the next meeting of the Literature Club. The happiness you see on Sayori’s face when people tell her that is only matched by your own.

Eventually, the room begins to filter clear, and after thanking the other club members for their hard work, Sayori takes Your wrist and leads You up to the school roof. In the bright light of the sun of a waning afternoon, and in complete solitude, you both lean on the chainlink fence surrounding the perimeter, admiring the neighbourhood you’ve both called home for so long. “Do you come up here a lot?” You ask Sayori.

She nods solemnly, gazing pointedly at the concrete below. “Not really to admire the view though…”

“Well, that’s we’ll do from now on, admire the view.” You take her hand. “Together.”

“Yeah.” She says quietly. “Me and my Sunshine…”

You tilted your head at her. “I’m your sunshine?”

Sayori’s smile is small and nervous. “You always have been.”

In this place, with Sayori by your side, You feel a sense of happiness and contentedness, that You would have never achieved without joining the Literature Club. Another thing to thank her for. Putting an arm around her waist, You pull Your girlfriend closer, and whisper “And I always will be.”

Chapter Text

“Natsuki,” You say, with the other girls nodding, even if Yuri did have a slightly odd expression on her face.

Natsuki’s eyes, of course, immediately widen in panic, then she balls her fists up, and rolls them as hard as she can. “Ugh, okay, lame joke guys, but you got me…” Everyone stares at her quietly, waiting for reality to set in. “What?! You really want me to do this!?”

Monika smiled at her. “Of course we do!”

“Yeah!” Sayori agreed, clapping her hands together. “Your poems are great, like your cakes, even!”

“Wait, how do you-” Natsuki squints at her. “Is that frosting on your lips?!”

“Ehehe~” She wiped her mouth with the back of a hand. “Well I know they’re for the rest of the school, but I kind of skipped breakfast, and-”

“You literally just walked in! How-” Natsuki stopped mid sentence, choosing simple to snarl. “I’m gonna check that she didn’t eat all of them!” Suddenly, she grabs at the cuff of your blazer. “You come help!”

You are promptly dragged to the cupcakes table, most of them thankfully accounted for at a glance, but a sharp pain in your arm makes your relief short lived. “Ow!” You yelp.

It was Natsuki, of course, who had been waiting for the moment where the rest of the club stopped watching the pair of you, to focus on their own assignments. “What were you trying to pull back there,” she hisses, trying to glare at you, but considering how she has to crane her neck upwards to do so, she only succeeded in looking adorable. “I never even cared that much about getting other people to join the club!”

You know that as worried as she is, you should be kinder, but that doesn’t stop you from grabbing a cupcake from the table, taking a bite, and making a noise of contentedness. “Mmm, if you didn’t want people to join, you really shouldn’t have made these so good.”

She glares even harder, only increasing her cuteness, until she runs out of energy, slumping and wrapping her arms around one of yours, the one that she punched. “You helped make them too…”

Yesterday had it’s bright spots, amidst seeing Sayori in such a precarious state. Those spots were exclusive to the moments you spent with Natsuki, baking the cakes deemed paramount to the festival’s success. You were nervous when you first saw Natsuki on your doorstep, her casual wear somehow spreading a shock through your system. She arrived with a mountain of ingredients and baking utensils, with a characteristic ease, one which you had to emulate when she passed some into your hands. You just about managed to take the load with dignity, but You doubt Natsuki was particularly convinced.

“Didn’t know how well stocked you were, so I brought everything. Guy like you eats ramen a lot, I bet, so what are the chances of you having anything good?” She was already pushing her way into your house before you had any time to object, with an impressed nod as she was greeted by your open-plan kitchen. “This is actually pretty nice, gives us a lot of space to work with.” She starts unloading her bags, frowning up at you after a few moments. “Hey, I’m here so you can help me so get over here and help me!”

After setting the flour, other ingredients and baking trays on the counter to Natsuki’s exact specifications, she began her work in earnest. Your job is mainly to weigh out the things she asks you to and pass them over as well. She is a whirlwind around the kitchen, yelling orders and dividing her time between multiple mixing bowls, because, she insists, “We’re gonna cover that table with so many cakes, nobody’s gonna be able to resist!” She attacks them furiously, as in her words, “The only way to get them real fluffy is to beat out all the resistance beforehand!”  It was more tiring work than You expected, but eventually everything was slid nicely into the oven, and You leaned against the counter, waiting for the results. But You didn’t even get a moment to relax, Natsuki whipping out yet more ingredients. “It’s icing time! This is my favourite part…”

Natsuki showed you what you need to put together, but then smugly informed you that it was your duty to beat the mixture smooth. Her patience wore thin however, when even your most aggressive whisking was producing incredibly lumpy icing. She shoved you aside and grabs the bowl. “Oh just give it here…” You couldn’t help but feel like she had just set you up to fail. She held the bowl tightly to her chest, and started stabbing the icing with a feeling close to malice. “You really need to… Beat… The crap out of it!” Sure enough, she gets it to the perfect consistency in pretty quickly. Her smile was wicked. “Showed you up there, didn’t I? It’s perfect!”

Emphasising the point, Natsuki dipped her finger into her mixture and had a taste. You decided you wanted to try some too, but You were stopped by a “Hey!”.

“What?”

Natsuki crossed her arms. “I don’t want your gross hands all over my fine icing.”

Which of course, you took as a challenge. You lunged at the icing, her swift and considerable grip meaning you were only able to steal a sliver, and in the resulting struggle, it somehow ended up on Natsuki’s face, and then her finger, and almost on you. Until you caught her hands. “Let go!” she laughed, playfully attempting to break away. 

“Not until you apologise for calling me gross,” You tell her with a smile.

“Okay, okay, you’re not gross!” A sly smile stretches across her lips. “Jeez, y’know, this is just what you always do to me, saying dumb stuff to get a reaction. You really shouldn’t tease girls like that.”

“Really?” You said, a devilish idea springing into your head, “You mean like thlis?” You ducked towards her, and licked the instigating sliver of icing right off of her finger.

Natsuki was horrified. Her expression, of carefree laughed, had morphed into one of open mouthed confusion, blood rushing to her cheeks. “You…” She started, her voice soft and trepidatious. “You shouldn’t do that to a girl, unless you really like her.”

The moment stretched to infinity. You could only stare at her eyes, and her lips, and her nose, and her hair, and her everything. There was something in this moment, something powerful, and You just needed to-

The fire alarm began to blare.

You didn’t let that stop you.

The kiss felt warm, and You felt Natsuki melt into your arms for some blissful seconds, but her eyes widen, and she starts mumbling into your lips, before shoving You away. “ Mrrmph- The cakes!”

With no regard for your slamming into a counter, she swiftly swung around to the oven, and returned to you, hotly, with a black crusted baking tray. “You left this old one in!? It burned you moron!”

“You didn’t see it either!” You squirmed, finding it odd that the face you wanted to be so close to a moment ago was now so terrifying.

She frowned deeply at You, and still was when she took your hand softly. “Why did you kiss me?”

You remember how you gulped. “Because I like you.”

She tried to tell you then, heat bursting from her face and her words, that she wasn’t someone you could be with. That she was too irritable, that she had too much going on in her life, that she was too cute, even. Of course you told her that those things didn’t matter, that they weren't even a problem, and that in fact, you liked those things about her. She became even more panicked at that, stammering wildly, but the beeping of the oven gave her respite as she dashed over to save the cakes. Icing them was an excellent distraction to help her calm down, and before you knew it, her arms were around your waist, and she whispered into your chest, “And I like you, you dumb idiot.”

She had to leave soon after, saying she couldn’t be out so late and she would definitely be texting you tonight. She followed through, after a while long enough to make you a little worried, with a confusing pattern of emoji and text speak, which eventually you deciphered as ‘We better not screw up tomorrow’. She also promised that you would both be reading the next volume of Parfait Girls after the literal festivities were over. You were really looking to it.

Back in the classroom, you’re both staring at the cakes you made. “Making words out of the icing was a pretty good idea,” Natsuki admits, her hold around your arm giving you an indescribable feeling, “Your ‘r’s all look weird though.”

You smirk at that. “You’re the one who put whiskers on the dots of the ‘i’s.”

The digs her nails into the skin under your blazer in response to that, but she quickly releases you. “I couldn’t help it,” she mutters impetuously. “Just like I couldn’t help liking you.” She adds, even more bitterly.

“Liking me can’t be that bad,” You say to her hopefully,

“It is and it isn’t,” Natsuki half admits, making you smirk. “But still, ugh… ”

Liking You and being incredibly affronted by that fact was such a Natsuki thing to be that you couldn’t help but let her apprehension slide. “Don’t worry,” You tell her, “I’ll show you that I am excellent boyfriend material.”

“Any past experience to prove that fact?” You could only look at her uncomfortably in response, making her giggle. “Even so, I’m looking forward to you proving yourself.”

You stay close for a while, but a quiet cough behind the pair of you makes Natsuki spring away from you as far as she can. “Um,” a wavering voice stumbles, “I’m really sorry, I’ll leave you both-”

“Yuri it’s fine!” Natsuki insisted, though the frantic way her words came out made it sound like things were anything but. “What do you want?”

Yuri was still trying to deal with interrupting you both, the tall girl wringing her hands together and avoiding all possible eye contact. “I-I just wanted to say… Good luck.” Her head bowed to the floor. “I know we’ve, um, had some- conflict, this week, but that doesn’t mean I don’t believe in you! You’re simple style is… Admirable…” Yuri tries, her shoulders almost shaking, and her face contorting awkwardly.

“Simple?!” Natsuki exclaims, rising up on her toes. A glance at You however, makes her pause, sighing and lowering herself. “I think I get what you’re trying to say,” she says to Yuri, her words rather stilted, but genuine. “But you don’t really need to. You don’t like my poems. I don’t like yours! But I know they’re good, I just…”

She struggles for a while, trying to find the most diplomatic turn of phrase, but for once, Yuri beats somebody to the punch. “My poems don’t connect with you?”

It was something Natsuki would have expected to be the wrong thing to say, but Yuri’s small half-smile showed that she understood. “Yeah! Like I find some of your ideas interesting, and there are some great words you somehow manage to use, but…” She shrugs. “It’s okay though, that doesn’t stop us from being friends, or being able to support each other!” She blanches. “Shit, when did I turn into a manga character…”

“You can become what you read,” Yuri points out.

“Guess that would explain a lot,” Natsuki replies with a vicious smile, laughing at Yuri’s blush.

What does that even mean, You wonder silently, not wanting to voice the question. It had been pretty stressful for you watching Natsuki and Yuri come to blows, especially considering it was your arrival that seemed to be a catalyst for their arguments, so You were very happy to see them resolve their differences.

“People are beginning to arrive!” Monika calls, looking over to all the club members in turn. Yuri offers good luck to Natsuki, moving away to have a last minute overview of the decorations.

Natsuki’s eyes fixed on the classroom doorway, staring blankly at where her audience would emerge. You tried rubbing her shoulder, in an attempt at being reassuring, but she winced and let out a small yelp. She turns and sees the worry in your eyes, and immediately tries to quash it. “Sorry, that wasn’t your fault, I’m just, uh, sore…”

You tilt your head. “Sore? From what?”

“I walked into something,” she grumbles, her eyes now back on the doorway, though you can tell that now she’s just trying to avoid looking at you.

“On the top of your shoulder?”

Her response is a hiss, as she turns to you fiercely. “Listen, if you don’t believe me then maybe-” She stops herself, her expression falling, her eyes wide and sad. She rubs the back of your hand with her thumb, and exhales. “I’ll… I’ll tell you after the poem, alright?”

You don’t get a chance to respond, as you can see Monika greeting an already sizable group of people, and Natsuki heads to the performance area, studying a scrap of paper intensely. You stay at the sides, content to wait for Monika to call for the the beginning of the performance. “Hello everyone!” The club president announces. “Thank you for choosing to visit our club during this very busy festival! Now, I hope you enjoy this poem, written and performed by one of our own members. Natsuki, everyone!”

Natsuki’s demeanour is composed, and totally serious. She almost glares at the crowd, commanding their silence, and you notice that some of them who have just known her reputation as the cute girl are visibly startled. She unfurls her paper without even looking at it.

With a subtle nod at You, she begins her performance.

What I like

I like what I like.

You can call it childish,

You can call it stupid,

But I like what I like,

And you can't take that away from me!

I like where I like.

It doesn't matter that it isn’t cool,

It doesn't matter that I'll be attacked,

I'll like where I like,

And you can't take that away from me!

I’ll like when I like,

Even when that means I’ll hurt,

Even when that means I’ll cry,

I’ll like when I like,

And you can’t take that away from me!

I like who I like.

I will call you an idiot (because you are),

I will think you're stupid (because you are),

But it's okay, because I really like you,

And you can't take that away from me!

I like why I like.

Because liking something is reason enough,

And they won't take that away from me.

Once Natsuki managed to fight through her fellow first years, all professing their admiration and surprise at her powerful delivery, she ushers you up to the school roof. She is grinning madly the entire time. “Did you see the looks on their faces when I stared them all down?” She says proudly as leads you up the stairs, “Maybe now they’ll think I’m more than just that cute girl they see around the place.” She practically bursts out of the door, running straight to the fence to look over at the city. “Their faces as they took a bite from the cakes as well,” She continues as you walk towards her, “I guess you were a pretty good baking assistant! A lot of them said they might come along to the next club session…” Her expression falls a little. “Sayori seemed super proud of that which is great and everything but…” She looks up at you, standing beside her. “I’m going to miss when the club was small.”

“Things have to change sometimes,” You tell her, “Sometimes that’s to make a better future. If we have more members, maybe there’ll be more people who like manga, more people who like to bake, more people who like your poems.”

She sighs. “I guess that might stop me and Yuri going for each other’s throats. Sorry for that by the way,” she adds, looking rather small. “Still, I am gonna miss those days…”

You take her hand. “We’re a good souvenir from those days though, right?”

She wants to tease you for being lame, You can tell, but perhaps for the first time with you, she holds back. “Yeah, we are.”

This was a nice moment, one of the nicest you've ever had, however, you had a duty beyond that. You use your free hand to rub her shoulder with the lightest touch, the one that made her jump away earlier, at look at her pointedly. “So, what happened earlier?”

She flinches, but not out of pain, not a physical one at any rate. She holds your gaze. “I would come up with excuses, and I could do it for hours, but I know you aren’t going to let this drop. And you won’t, will you?”

You shake your head. “You can tell me anything, and I will support you.”

Natsuki closes her eyes, and breathes in deeply. She looks though the fence, away from you, as she exhales, and begins her story. “I told my dad I was at a boy’s house. I know I shouldn’t have told him, but I felt mad, and I’m tired of lying about myself. He didn’t like that, and when I do things he doesn’t like, he’s...” Her lips tremble, and you squeeze her hand. “ Violent .”

She crumbles, like you saw when her manga was creased, but infinitely worse, and you pull her into an embrace as she starts to cry. You know she would hate it if you could see her undoubtedly red face right now.

She recovers quickly, considering the magnitude of what she told you, angrily wiping her eyes with the back of her hands while she remains in your arms. “I-I used to try and justify it y’know?” She sniffed, her words coming out in gulps. “Every kid gets hit by their parents, right? And even if they didn’t, Dad didn’t beat me as hard as he could have. Besides, maybe I deserved it...”

“Of course you don’t,” You tell her. You’ve never had to support someone in this situation before, but You hadn’t with Sayori either. “I’m so sorry…”

“It’s fine.” She rolled her eyes. “Well obviously it fucking isn’t. But you’re right. I don’t deserve it. When I joined the literature club, I started realising I could have people I could rely on… Then you came along, and even though I hate admitting this, I started relying on you more than anyone…” She stepped away, taking both of your hands in hers, and she admired them, intertwined. “Being with you, with anyone, wouldn’t be something my Dad would allow. But I started thinking, ‘I like him. Why shouldn’t I have him’ ? Then you said you liked me, and I realised. What I want is the most important thing.”

“Your poem…”

Natsuki nodded. “I write what I feel, it’s what I do. I like you, I like the club, and I like the feeling I have when I'm here, that I'm actually... Safe. That I don't have to be worried by every footstep. So why don’t I have more of that?”

“You already have all me,” You tell her. “You should try and get that more of that feeling of safety as well…”

“You want me to run away from home?” You were scared for a moment, that she would run, accuse you of breaking her family apart, continuing a cycle of abuse in the way you had seen in so many TV shows and Anime. But she held your hands tighter. “That’s exactly what I want to do.”

“Stay with me,” You blurt out, and it’s then she rips her hands away.

“Uh-uhhhhh-” Natsuki is blushing furiously, shrinking away from you, but then she snickers. “Idiot. You’re such a nice guy that you don’t even realise when you’re being a pervert…” She steps back towards you, and places a hand on your cheek. “You’re sweet, but I have the rest of the literature club to stay with, and it’s better for me to stay with girls, fewer questions. Besides,” she reaches up, and pulls down your head so she can whisper into your ear, “Doesn’t Sayori live right next door? ” That last sentence makes your head spin, and Natsuki laughs as she watches you visibly malfunction. “Wow, I never considered how much more I can tease you now!”

You gulped. “I-I’m looking forward to it.”

“Course you are,” she replies, pulling something out of her blazer, and presenting you with another volume of Parfait Girls . “Now I know I have a lot of things to sort out,” she says dejectedly, “I’ve got to talk to the rest of the club, the school, maybe even the police…”

The book in her hand wavers slightly, and You put your hand on hers to steady it. “I can be there for you for all of that. It’s still not gonna be easy, but I hope I can help.”

She smiles at you warmly, accepting your support. “Thank you. But the only thing I want to do now, before everything changes, is to read this next volume, here with you.”

You smile back at her. “That sounds like a great idea.”

So you both sit on a well sized roof vent, under an orange sun, one hand holding open the manga, the other wrapped around your girlfriend, while she excitedly pointed out all her favourite elements of each page, with a wonderful passion and excitement. You know this moment can’t last forever, that You will have to move on soon to supporting Natsuki’s new future, but this was bliss enough, and You would enjoy every second.

Chapter Text

“Yuri,” You say, much to her horror. She can’t control herself enough to simply sigh, and so she chokes , which devolves in a tight and vicious cough. The rest of the club can only watch, and make their best attempt at a collective gaze that feels reassuring and safe. Regardless of their level of success, it has no effect, and the tall girl, eyes quivering and avoiding even a glimpse of her friends, darts away and wedges herself in a corner, as she takes something from her pocket, muttering to herself.

You all watch on, and then Sayori takes initiative, stepping towards you. “You should talk to her,” she says. “Maybe she’ll calm down?”

“Yeah, course she will,” Natsuki chimes in, rolling her eyes. “It’s him . Hop to it anyway, and make sure she’s ready to perform!” She promptly orders. “I’m sure as hell not doing it.”

Before you could even argue, which you weren't going to anyway, Monika gives you a light shove into the corner, and as you reflexively whip your head back to glower at her, you are met only by a warm smile. You walk carefully over to Yuri, like a hunter, wait, conservationist, angling in on a particularly beautiful but illusive sparrow. You needn’t have been so careful; what you were incredibly relieved to see in her hand was an exceptionally smooth scrap of paper, one that she was so absorbed in frantically reading she took no notice of you whatsoever. Eventually, you make an attempt at a dignified cough.

She doesn’t respond well. “Ah!!!” She cowers, turning to you yet moving deeper into the classroom’s corner. She relaxes slightly when she realises who it was that came over to her, squeaking, “O-oh, it’s y-you…”

You hadn’t heard her stammer this badly since the start of the week, when you were just a stranger to her, a situation you know in hindsight did not play to Yuri’s strengths. “Of course it’s me,” You say soothingly, but an uncomfortable silence follows with the both of you having little idea of what to say next. You say the first thing you can think of. “Is that your poem there?”

“N-no- Yes!” She squeaks, clutching it tightly to her chest. “I-it is my poem. The one I’ll be… P-p-performing …”

There was a sheer terror in whirling through her eyes, and you suddenly felt guilty to have put her into this situation. “I’m sorry!” You say, a little louder then you would have wanted, and Yuri’s anxious expression morphed into something else that you couldn’t read. “I should have known this wouldn’t be fun for you. I’ll tell Monika-”

She cuts you off. “No.” It was by no means said firmly, but by Yuri’s standards it was incredibly commanding. “I-I am scared, I can admit that… But if you b-b-believe in me…” She takes a step closer to you, not touching, but trying to gain proximity, “T-then this is possible.”

Still, with her eyes shining and her lips wobbling, your heart aches to just make her feel safe. Then you remember yesterday. Gentle as a feather, you cup the right side of Yuri’s face with your hand, and start stroking her hair and cheek, in a slow, soft, repetitive motion. Unlike all other hints of touch between the two of you in the past, she doesn’t shrink away- the opposite, in fact. She leans into your hand, and breathes a an airy sigh. “Thank you…” You both stay like this for a while, sinking into eachother’s comfort. Eventually, her eyelids fluttering open, taking in the scene of the classroom behind you. “This atmosphere is wonderful…”

You look over your shoulder. You can see the streams of words in front of the doorway, Yuri’s elegant calligraphy intertwined with your crude imitation. The banner, laid over the chalkboard, giving the room a sense of purpose. Papering over the windows was a particular masterstroke, and paired with the scented candles that Yuri had painstakingly selected, it barely felt like a classroom anymore. It was more like a den, a place to find a kindred spirit, a place where you might actually want to share the poem you wrote that you’re secretly pretty proud of. “Yeah,” you agree, with her, “You did an excellent job.”

Wordlessly, she holds your face, the same way you’re holding hers. “Only with your help…”

At the time you jumped at the chance to help Yuri because, well, it was Yuri. It was only as you were walking home, after club had ended, still excited by the fact you had a girl’s number programmed into your phone (that wasn’t Sayori’s!), you started mulling over what the task actually was. Creating ambience? Yuri’s ideas sounded particularly crafty, and you hadn’t so much as sniffed any glue since grade school. Still, you bought the origami paper almost embarrassingly quickly after Yuri texted the request, and had even practiced using scissors the night before so you could cut things perfectly straight. You didn’t want to let her down after all.

It was a short time after you left Sayori, at her insistence, that you greeted Yuri at your doorstep. She nodded to you in greeting, but something was off, with her shoulders hunched, and body closing in on itself. You thought it might be her cream turtleneck sweater, which suited her perfectly, and her bag filled with supplies that were compressing her body in on itself, but then you caught the shifting of her eyes, and realised she must simply be feeling nervous, being exposed in an unfamiliar neighbourhood. You quickly ushered her in, and the moment she crossed the threshold, you saw her shoulders relax immediately.

“T-thanks…” She said, slipping off her shoes, rubbing the sleeve on her forearm rather curiously. You lead her to your living room, and can’t miss her craning her neck around your house on the way. It was as if she was expecting something to jump out at any moment. Of course, with a distinct lack of ghosts at your address, which your younger self had disappointedly confirmed, you both sat down at the coffee table without any incident. “Did you…”

“Yeah,” You said hurriedly, tapping the origami paper on top of the table, still in its wrapping. “What did you want this for again?”

“Well, I-I thought it would be interesting if we made a curtain of words to put over the doorway?” She started stroking at her long hair, gripping it tightly. “S-so we would write words on the paper and t-tie them up together…”

She stopped her anxious tugging with your nod and encouraging smile. “That sounds like a really good idea. I’m not sure about my handwriting though…”

She shaked her head firmly. “Different styles across the curtain will give it a more authentic feel. Just, um, do your best!”

Yuri cheering you on was a strange thing to be hearing, but it certainly made you put passion into your penmanship. After cutting the paper into neat smaller squares, you both started filling them with words. Looking over at Yuri working, would couldn’t hope but feel your own vocabulary was hopelessly inadequate. In an attempt to level the playing field, you subtly placed your phone under the table, and used the power of the internet to at least try and match Yuri’s sophistication. Soon you had both amassed a considerable amount of cards, and it was now time to tie them into the strings of a curtain. Yuri had brought a shimmering black ribbon for this purpose, making it her job to cut holes into the cards, and yours to sit close, and tie them together. She apparently had the perfect tool for this purpose as well, pulling out a shiny silvery object, which with a simple click, swung out to reveal an impressive blade, with a hypnotising blue tint.

You couldn’t hide your awe. “Wow Yuri, that must have been expensive.”

“Oh, ummm…” She looked embarrassed that you even brought it up. “It was,” she admitted, as she started working on the cards, “but, when I saw it, I knew it was something I had to have. The way it shines, even in darkness…” You see her shiver, but you figure that’s because of how hard she’s focussing on making the perfect cut.

“It’s pretty cool,” You agree, although you do doubt  it was cool enough to spend what it must have been worth to have it. “So, what are we doing once we’ve made the curtains?”

“Hm?” It seemed Yuri had become a little too engrossed in her knifework. “Oh, we need to make the banner, and we need to evaluate which of the candles would be best… D-Do you want to check them now?” She pointed over to her bag, which you took as consent to rummage through, taking out a few boxes of small candles, green, pink, and white. “You should-” Her face turned pink, “ Smell them,” she said finally, “and tell me which type would be the best for the event.”

“Sure,” you told her. You opened each box in turn, bringing them to your nose. The pink candles brought a lovely scent, but it was also sweet, like passing over a stream of strawberry syrup. The green ones were quite earthy, and felt entirely natural, but from that, were rather overwhelming. The white candles, however, seemed to have a perfect tone, flowery, but understated, just enough to ply your mind into a different place. “These white ones seem pretty good,” You told Yuri, shaking the box at her.

She smiled warmly at that. “They’re jasmine,” She told you, closing her eyes, “I thought they would be the best choice as well, but I just wanted to be sure. I always fill my bedroom with the smell,” she finished quietly, placing the knife down. “It’s going to be wonderful… I want to put some black card on the windows too, to make the room darker? That way you can really feel the jasmine diffuse around the room. We have the banner to make too...” You realised then in taking the role as candle tester you have neglected your other duties, and hurriedly get back to assembling the remaining cards on the curtains. Yuri laughs a little at your pace. “Oh, don’t worry, there’s no rush.”

“I know,” You said, “but I don’t want to feel like I’m not working as hard as you.”

She gulps at that, loudly. “O-oh? I really haven’t done much…”

You shake your head at her. “You thought of this all. I don’t think anybody else in the club would have thought to use candles for mood, or to cover up the windows to add ambience. You’ve got a real eye for this sort of thing Yuri.” Yuri tries to respond to that, but her lips don’t seem to work, so she just stares at you with quivering lips, and eyes that seem almost pleading. Something shiny caught your eye, and it was drawn to her knife on the table. “May I?” You asked her, starting to understand the allure it had upon her.

She nodded in assent, and you took the knife in your hand. It was heavier than you expected, for such a sleek tool, but the weight felt good in your hand, consequential. Just holding it, you felt as if some of your worries flowed into the metal, adding to it’s weight, in an almost therapeutic manner. Mind entirely blank, you ran a finger across the blue-tinged blade, stroking it’s-

“Careful!” Yuri’s voice had an urgency previously unheard of, and for good reason. Without realising, you had pricked your finger on the small blade, a bead of blood pooling on it’s tip. “I-I keep it sharp…” She tries, as way of an explanation.

“You really do,” you replied to her, staring at your finger. “I barely felt that… Sorry for getting any on your knife, I’ll just grab-”

Without warning, your wrist was taken, and brought up to Yuri’s face. With even less warning, your finger was wrapped around her lips, and you felt her tongue brush the skin. Before you could even begin to process what was happening, your finger was freed, and Yuri, looking horrified at what she had just done, scooted away from you to the other side of the coffee table. “A-a-ahhhh!” She shrieks quietly, her stammer incredibly pronounced as she tried to explain herself. “I-I’m sorry it’s just I’m sorry b-but the cards were there and I’m sorry and I didn’t want any blood to drop and I’m sorry…”

You realised she was just trying to protect the cards, and as you looked down at your finger, now entirely clean, you couldn’t argue with the results. “No,” You said, trying to smile at her, but she could only look her own knees, drawn tight to her body. “It was my fault, I shouldn’t have played around with your knife. It was quick thinking from you actually, I completely forgot about the cards.” Her shivering definitely toned down in intensity at your words, but she still stayed at the other side of the coffee table, attempting to separate entirely from the rest of the world. An impulsive idea dropped into your head then, and for a lack of better ideas, you ran with it. Wordlessly, you moved around to her, taking her wrist as she just did yours, and without giving her the opportunity to escape, placed her finger into your mouth.

Once again she looked horrified, especially as you reciprocated the lick she gave you, and she looks utterly scrambled as you release her finger, what little colour she had in her face completely drained. “A-Ah?!!? B-but-”

Now she saw your smile. “Now we’re even. It was a bit of a weird thing to do Yuri, I’ve got to say, but it didn’t bother me. I kind of like the strange things you do.” You were hoping the simple compliment was going to be enough to diffuse the situation, but it only made things worse, as Yuri stopped even trying to say anything, staring at you in complete silence. You figured giving her some space might be helpful for her. “I’m going to get us some snacks,” You tell her, getting to your feet. She just nods at that, staring at the space where you were sitting.

You calmly left the room, deciding to give Yuri as much time as possible to work through her awkward state. It was strange to think how her behaviour seemed so incomprehensible at the start of the week, but by now, you were just rolling with it, and beyond that, actually found it kind of cute. She was so self conscious it seemed to colour almost everything that she did, so maybe it was your job to show her that she didn’t need to be so fearful of everything, and that just being her would be more than enough to take on any obstacles.

From your kitchen, you heard a strange, high pitched grunting noise, that made you pause. You quickly reentered, with an armful of snacks, and you saw Yuri staring at her hand, and when her eyes met yours, she lifted her palm to her cheek in a strange look of shock, only to drop it, leaving a mess of red on her face. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you apologised, figuring you startled her, “Is that paint for the banner? I’ll get a towel.”

Hurriedly, you scampered to the bathroom and grabbed a hand towel, ran it under the faucet, and returned to the living room, sitting close to Yuri and her now vacant expression. Her hand was still stained, but you figured dealing with her face was more important. Without even realising what you were doing, you put the towel to her face, and began to deftly wash the skin.

Her expression seemed odd, but considering the situation you couldn’t blame her. It certainly wasn’t as panicked as it was before, but there was a resignation there, akin to a death. “I-it’s warm…” Yuri said softly.

“Hmm? I guess I didn’t see which tap I used…” Seeing the skin under the towel was clear, you pulled the towel away from her face, only for her hand to sit on top of yours keeping it there.

Her eyes were closed then, letting her cheek sink into the towel, ever so close to your hand. “I-it’s nice.” She said simply.

There was something about this moment that begged to be stretched into eternity, yet, something else was haunting it, with a dreadful chill. Your eyes finally being torn away from Yuri’s entrancingly relaxed visage, you realise the problem with the scene. Her hand, still laid upon yours, still dripped some colour, that was now running in faint streams along your hand. But the way it felt, the way it looked. It wasn’t the crimson of paint, which when you thought about it would clash with the colour scheme planned for the club room. You voiced your theory carefully. “Yuri, this isn’t paint, isn’t?”

Her eyes snapped open. You were afraid then, that she would run away with an excuse, let this be a moment between friends that would remain unspoken for the rest of time. But underneath the warm towel, and your hand, that didn’t happen. Yuri’s eyes remained locked to yours, and her confession was quiet, and breathy. “Y-you were being so nice, and lovely, to someone h-hideous like me, a-and I just… I-I just couldn’t bear it…” Her eyes shimmered with the beginning of tears. “Sometimes, when the world just doesn’t make sense to me, when people say things that hurt I… I have to find a way to get away from it. Books did that. For a long time. Elaborate fantasy, with language so far removed from the real world that when you’re reading, when you’re in that mindset, it’s impossible to think of anything else. It made me feel safe, when nothing else could. Then even that place stopped feeling so safe…” She broke eye contact with you, staring at her hand and yours on her neck, both stained with her blood. “I found another way. Physical pain is fleeting. I-It makes me focus focus, and it helps me when nothing else will. It hurts but,” she gave a small, heartbreaking smile, “It hurts less than I do inside.”

You’re not sure what gave you the courage to say what you said. “Show me.”

Wordlessly, you separate, placing the towel aside, ignoring the stains, as Yuri used her dirty hand to pull up the opposite sleeve on the sweater vest, revealing a small, neat cut, diagonal on her wrist. Blood still pooled over the skin, and you couldn’t help but notice how she seized with its ebb and flow. “Don’t you see,” she whispers. “It’s because I’m a monster. This is my punishment for living.”

“No,” You said, tearing your eyes from the cut, and the pattern of scars faded underneath, to look her directly into the eyes. “You’re not a monster.” You wrap your arms around her, and pull her into a tight hug. She holds tightly with an embrace of her own. “From now on, let me be your knife okay? If the world’s hurting you, find me instead. I don’t know what I can do, but I’ll think of something to take that pain away.”

Yuri sniffed, pulling away so she could look you in the eyes. “Why would you do this for me? I don’t understand…”

“It makes a lot of sense actually,” You told her, pulling her close again. “It’s because I like you.”

After you let Yuri calm down, and bandaged her wrist despite her meek protests, the session went on with little incident, the curtains and the banner now hanging proudly in the club room. The candes and the papered windows were the perfect touch to make the Literature Club ready for the festival. Yuri still sighs, however. “If only I had thought to prepare some tea,” she says wistfully, “A suitable blend would really add to this atmosphere…”

“Probably,” you agree, “But then you would have to serve it to everyone, and it sounds like Monika has got a lot of people to come along.”

Yuri’s face reddens at that prospect. “I am glad to be avoiding that...”

A flash of pink appeared with little warning and an impatient grunt. “Hey dorks!” Natsuki had arrived, staring between the pair of you almost accusingly. “Stop being lovebirds already, unless you want the whole school to see.”

Yuri shrank away from you immediately of course, and you went on the defensive. “We weren’t-”

“Oh well then,” Natsuki rolled her eyes, “I guess you both suddenly went blind then. Only other explanation for all that face touching right?” She lets herself enjoy you both looking away speech for a while, before she sighs. “For real though, people are gonna be here soon. You ready for that Yuri?” The tall girl had started trembling again, but she nodded. “Good! You’re gonna kill it, I know it.”

The praise from her friend made her smile. “T-t-thanks. Um, I-I’m sure that your poem…”

“Yeah, it would have been way better,” Natsuki dismissed, “But whatever, your poems are good, even if I don’t really like them, y’know?”

“I just want you to know-”

“I don’t need to know anything you dummy,” the short girl waved away again, “We’re cool. If you really want to say sorry, make me some tea later. At least, if you’re not busy with this guy.” And there you both were, blushing furiously again. “Ahaha,” she laughs devilishly, “This is never going to get old… Raincheck then. And get ready, you’ve literally got a couple of minutes.”

Natsuki left, leaving the two of you alone, until you weren’t. Already a few unfamiliar faces were entering the club room, increasing Yuri’s anxiety and your own by proxy. They did look pretty impressed by the room however, which you thought might be a little comforting. “Looks like they really like the room,” You tell her.

Her laboured breathing delays her response. “Yeah…”

“Hey, if you feel worried, just find me in the crowd, okay? I’m here to support you. You could try and focus on the jasmine as well if it helps.”

She inhales deeply, and after a few moments contemplation, looks much more confident, even if that’s only by Yuri standards. “O-okay.”

“AHEM!” A polite cough, that silences the room. Monika is standing there, in the middle of the performance area, quickly flashing a smile at the pair of you, becoming you over with a head movement, before addressing the now sizable audience. “Hello everyone!” The club president announces. “Thank you for choosing to visit our club during this very busy festival! Now, I hope you enjoy this poem, written and performed by one of our own members. Yuri, everyone!”

Her arrival was drawn out, and you wish you could have given her a push, which would have been preferable to the deathly silence as she shuffled towards the centre of the performance area. When she reaches it, she looks over the audience, and immediately freezes. Her poem begins to crumple under her tight grip. But then her eyes lock with yours, and you smile. She breathes in through her nostrils, and exhales. “H-h-hello.” She tries. “M-my name is Y-Y-Yuri, and I have a p-p-poem…”

Her stutter disappears the moment she starts reading. eheh

Citizenship of the World

I drift,

Over a world I do not quite understand.

I see a river, flowing upstream, whilst the fish gallop their way towards the ocean.

I see trees, with their roots woven firmly into the clouds, whilst gravity drags their leaves to the dirt.

I see a mountain, boring a hole into the earth, it’s precipice impossibly low, and impossibly dark.

I drift over a world where I do not belong.

I glide,

And the wind takes me to a city, where I can see this world’s people.

They wear strange clothes, brash and blinding, but with so little material they are hardly clothes at all!

They talk of strange things, of selfish desires, forbidden dreams, yet to my ears, their words are so tiny.

They gather and bind together, claustrophobically close, with a touch that only immolates, leaving their own ashes.

I glide over a city that is not mine.

I do not belong here.

I do not fit

I do not understand

I never would.

Yet…

I see, on the tallest spire of the metropolis,

A beam of feathered light.

It brings me close, and I am afraid.

But therin lies an Angel.

One who smiles, one who casts his hand over the streets below.

And it’s then I see, it’s denizens aren’t so different to me, carried by winds of change, unsure of a final destination.

And beyond the city, I see the rivers flowing into the ocean, trees embracing the soil which they call home, mountains towering over the horizon.

My feet touch the ground. I am no longer floating.

I take my saviour’s hand, and while I am still fearful, their strength becomes mine.

So I am taken down, to be introduced to the people of this world, those who share my new home.

I shall no longer be separated by shades of my fears. Now I intend to live.

The applause made Yuri jump, and that was not an understatement. She did her best to manage the crowd, those praising the poem, those asking where her ideas came from, and those who slightly knew her, expressing their surprise at her strong delivery. When she let slip that she used ‘The Portrait of Markov’ to help channel the feeling of separation, she was not ready for the excitable squeal of a slightly gothic girl who insisted they were going to talk all about it at the next club meeting. Yuri eventually pried herself away from them all, mouthing “Roof?” the moment she caught you eye, of course, something she always had. 

Under the dipping sun, the city was shaded in a beautiful orange, and the pair of you couldn’t help but stare, standing wonderfully close. “So,” you start when you regain your senses, “Sounds like you made a new friend.”

“Y-yeah.” She said shyly. “I suppose the festival really has made more people interested in the club.”

“All thanks to you.”

“Don’t say that.” Her tone is sudden, serious, and you immediately turn to her with concern. “I didn’t do much of anything,” she says lowly, “I kept stuttering at the start and-”

You cut her off. “You were amazing,” You tell her, “And don’t doubt that for a second. Even if there’s a little bit of you that really wants to, don’t do that. I won’t let you.”

She surprises you, grabbing your hand, and gripping it tightly. “I know, b-but,” her grip becomes tighter, “That f-feeling is still there…”

“You remember your poem?” You say softly. She nods. “It was never going to be as easy as flipping a switch,” You admit, “but you can get there, because I’m going to be here to help you, through anything? Me and the rest of the club. You aren’t alone Yuri.” She nods again at that, leaning against your arm, as you both watch the skyline. After some time, you can’t help but be a little cheeky. “So, I’m an angel huh?” You ask teasingly.

“Yes,” she replies, completely seriously, and now it’s you turning red. She laughs softly. “That backfired, didn’t it?”

You splutter out a reply. “Well played…”

“Don’t let my artistic license make you too big headed now,” Yuri says, stepping across so she is in front of you, with your faces almost touching. “But you are very important to me.” She places a hand on your chest. “Which is why I want to-”

You beat her to it, leaning forwards and pressing her lips to hers. Yuri’s hand grabs a fistful of your shirt, and her wide eyes gently relax, and close, as she kisses you back, tentatively, but with powerful affection. When you pull away however, she starts wringing her hands together, and is giving you a strange look. “Sorry,” You start, “Was that-”

“I was just going to ask you to read with me.” She says quietly, and through her hair, you can see her ears burning read. You were about to apologise further, but she steps towards you, and places a finger on your lips, in a manner more nervous than sexy, but still, you got the gist. “But now… I think we can leave that for later.”

You remain close together on that roof for a long while, not even thinking of the great times ahead, just staying present, in this wonderful moment.

Chapter Text

“Monika,” You say, and her eyes immediately widen, while the rest of the club beams at your suggestion.

“Yeah!” Sayori cries, throwing a fist cheerfully in the air. “She’s the perfect choice!”

“Totally,” Natsuki agrees, with a smirk, “Now the Prez gets to strut her stuff in front of the whole school…”

“I wish you luck,” Yuri tells her, with a firm nod.

Monika is silent for a few moments, looking at all the club members in turn, and when she looks at you, you could swear her eyes were shining. “You would all really trust me with this?” She finally asks.

The lack of response is deadpan, and everyone squints at her in disbelief. Natsuki speaks up first. “Uh… Yeah? Why wouldn’t we?”

“You have been here since the beginning of this club,” Yuri points out, “Surely it’s only appropriate it’s expansion lies in your hands as well?”

Sayori, in what you’re happy to see is joyful fashion, hops beside her club president, wrapping an arm around her waist and squeezing tight. “Of course Monika, you shouldn’t doubt yourself! You’re going to do great!”

She turns to Sayori, a smile growing on her lips, then turns her attention to you, and you just smile back. “Well, you know what I think,” You tell her, “It’s basically what Sayori said…”

“See,” Sayori waves a finger at you, “Great minds think alike!”

“Great, or simple?” Natsuki teases, getting the annoyed ‘Hey!’ from you both she was aiming for, and a barely restrained smile from Yuri.

Monika laughed at her friend’s antics. “Okay, okay, lets calm down everyone. We don’t have much time, and we need the room looking perfect!”

“Got it!” Sayori agrees, shooting a double thumbs up before ushering Yuri and Natsuki to their stations, the brunette offering a not so casual wink at you as they stepped away.

There’s a bashful silence between you and Monika, sharing the space in the middle of the club room. She touches the bottom of her lip thoughtfully. “Oh dear,” she ponders aloud, “I am really not sure if the poem I have is particularly appropriate…”

“Hey,” You tell her, “What did Sayori just say?”

She shakes her head gently. “This isn’t a case of self-doubt, I’d say it’s more of the opposite.” She sighs, running a finger on the back of her hand. “I know myself so well, that I know the audience’s response may not be, hmm, not ideal, shall we say.”

“No,” You disagree, “That still sounds like you’re doubting yourself to me. Everyone in the club thinks you’re great Monika, me especially.”

She blushes deeply at that, stepping closer and taking your hand subtly. “I know that as well,” she says shyly, looking into your eyes, “But as I told you yesterday, it sometimes isn’t that easy for me…”

The day before, after checking up on Sayori, you found yourself standing in front of the school gates, something you had never expected to happen on a Sunday. But you had promised Monika that you would help with her preparations for the festival. You were really looking forward to it actually. Maybe it was because of her status as Club President, maybe it was because of her considerable reputation, but you felt as if there was something pushing between you and Monika, like a sheet of glass, although it felt more like a sheet of unbreakable diamond. What you could glean through that sheet showed a lovely, caring and talented girl, yet, there was a part of you that felt like you had still never really met her. Today, you could change that.

Leaning against the wall next to the gate, you hear a voice, greeting “Good afternoon!” You look around for the source, which you were pretty sure was Monika, but she was nowhere to be found. It was only when you looked to the gate, you saw she was already on the other side, sticking her head through the opening, as gate swung with a low groan. “You’re a little late,” she said with a smile, “But I suppose that’s what happens on a Sunday.”

“Sorry for that,” You apologised, walking through the gate as she stepped away, noticing the prim leather satchel hanging by her hip. You turn back to the gate, frowning. “Do they usually leave this open when the school is closed?”

“I have my ways,” she said mysteriously, beckoning you to take her side as you walk towards the front doors.

“They’re unlocked too?” You ask, rather redundantly as you were already turning the handle to step into the locker area.

Monika shrugged. “We have to get everything ready for the festival somehow!”

The pair of you changed to your indoor shoes, though a rebellious voice inside you was going on about how fun it might be to skid around the place in your regular shoes. The silence of the empty hallway was more oppressive than anything you had ever experienced. You did wonder where the other clubs were, surely they had their own preparations to attend to, but a glance at Monika’s eyes, seeing the layer of steel there underneath, told you this wasn’t a regular occurrence. She was just so dedicated to the club that she was willing to break into the school to ensure everything would be perfect for tomorrow. Which of course, made you an accomplish, but if anything you were thankful for the delicious thrill of rule-breaking jolting down your spine. With both of your shoes changed, you began to walk towards the club room. “So,” You asked her, “What are we actually doing today?”

She tilted her head, walking with her hands behind her back. “The main objective is to stick up all of the posters, we won’t have much of an audience without outreach. We could rearrange the club room to make things easier tomorrow, but if you have any other suggestions I am open to them!”

You were never much of an ideas guy, but you decided to do your best to come up some good ones for the festival. Arriving at the club room, you both leave almost immediately, you carrying an armful of posters, whilst Monika was armed with a particularly hefty looking stapler. The posters were pink and flowery, covered in an elegant script, although an obnoxious explosion in the bottom right corner offered ‘FREE CUPCAKES’ with the picture of a cute cat cupcake offering as a tantalising example. The main body of the poster read ‘Come enjoy the discussion and creation of literature, poetry, and more at the literature club, featuring a very special performance by our members!’

“Sayori chose the general theme and tone for the poster, and I wrote the body of the text.” Monika explained, “Yuri painstakingly fine-tuned the font and the calligraphy…”

“And Natsuki insisted her cupcakes be garishly highlighted?” You finished for her.

Monika giggled. “Something like that. I pretended to have a bit of resistance, but she seemed very insistent that the offer of baked goods was far more powerful than the promise of literature to the average high school student.”

“She isn’t wrong,” You said, “I mean, if Sayori said you guys had free food I probably would have stopped by the club room much sooner.”

“A Literature Club does have a certain stigma doesn’t it?” She stops you by the first fabric board you come across, taking off old notices to clear space, where you place one of the stack of posters. “I you don’t mind me asking,” Monika says as she staples the corners of the poster with an almost satisfying thunk, “What have you thought of the Literature Club, compared to your expectations?”

The girls are much cuter than I expected, You keep to yourself. “I’m not sure, I mean, I’m not sure what I expected in the first place. It sounds really bad, but I only came in the first place to get Sayori off my back…”

Monika, to your relief, laughs at that. “Sayori can be quite persistent. It was her who insisted that I had to be the club president, which wasn’t a responsibility I particularly wanted…”

That admission surprised you. With her natural leadership skills, it seemed strange that Monika ever wanted to shy away from responsibility. “How come?” You asked her. “I remember you saying something about the Debate club, did something happen there?”

She hummed as she began to walk again, leading you to the next poster spot. “It was more a bunch of smaller things really. A debating club is naturally full of strong personalities. That unfortunately lends itself the focus being less on the arguments made, but the people giving them. The competitive nature of the club as well inevitably leads to arguments which are not made in good spirit.” She shook her head. “An atmosphere like that becomes rather unbearable after a while. With the Literature Club however, who you are and what you present are incredibly intertwined. Even if you don’t like the poem presented to you, it tells you something about the person reading it.”

“I wish Yuri and Natsuki would appreciate that…” You commented, without really meaning to.

Monika nodded. “I do remind them of that when necessary. Yuri can get very defensive, and Natsuki is naturally hotheaded, so I think they would clash wherever they are. But they do gain so much from each other’s friendship- if you had been in the club for longer you would really see that.”

“You see, this is what makes you such a good club president,” You told her as you hold the next poster up to the board, “You know your members so well, you can really help them when they need it. I know your writing tips made my poetry a lot better.”

Once again, the stapler clacks the four corners into the fabric. “Thank you for saying,” she replied with a smile, “Still, I do wonder what it would be like to shirk some of that responsibility…”

She seemed quite small then, as she stared blankly at the board, past all of the other meaningless announcements and notices, straight at the logo for the literature club. It felt incredibly wrong. “Monika,” You asked her gently, “Are you okay?”

She tried to be okay, you could tell. She shook herself, trying to physically shake the feeling off, but her efforts were still, lacking. “My position can feel like a prison at times,” She told you, leaning her back on the board, “lots of people around the school have this idea that I’m somehow unapproachable. I know being involved in a lot of extracurricular activities can be intimidating to people, but even when I cut down my memberships to just the Literature Club, there still seems to be a separation between myself and the rest of the school. Even within the club,” she admits, shying away from your gaze, “I found myself cutting myself off from… Well, you.”

The revelation felt rather shocking, and you place the rest of the posters onto the ground. “What do you mean?” You asked her sincerely.

“It’s going to sound very silly…” She sees that you’re not going to drop the topic, so she sighs. “I knew how excited Sayori was that you finally came along to the club, so I wanted to give the both of you some space. Then I saw how attached Yuri and Natsuki became, and so quickly too, and since I know they both have had trouble making friends before, I thought it might be good just to let them become closer to you. It was only later on that I realised what I was doing, when I started feeling that pain in my heart again.” She sinks down to the floor, staring at her feet. “You know, the school being empty like this? It feels quite lonely doesn’t it?”

You nod slowly, joining her on the floor. “I felt it the second we walked in. It should be filled with people, but it just… isn’t.”

Her lips forms a sad half smile. “This is how it feels to me, all the time. Even when the school is filled with students, they feel so separate to me, they may as well not be there. Even with the Literature Club-” She choked on her words, gulping them down to try and regain composure. “I love the Literature Club. I love everyone in the club, but at the same time, I feel so separate to them, like I do with everyone else, like they’re not even real people. I’m starting to think it’s not part of being the club president anymore. I’m starting to think it’s just to do with being me.”

You considered her for a while, despondently hunched against the wall. This side of Monika was something you didn’t know existed, something that perhaps nobody knew existed. You weren’t entirely surprised that the responsibilities she had were taking their toll, but still, to see the composure that usually defined your friend shattered across the empty hallway, it hurt in a very particular way. You racked your brain for any way you could help help her, and then you realised. If her responsibilities are making her so stressed… You got to your feet, gaining Monika’s attention, and you extended a hand down to her. “C’mon,” You told her, “We’re gonna have some fun.”

The sadness had faded in her expression, being replaced with confused curiosity. Regardless, she takes your offered hand and lets you pull her to standing. “What do you mean?” She asked.

“By the sounds of it, you are putting far too much on yourself,” You said, her gaze turning away from yours. “So how about we do something else for a change?”

Her hand was still resting in yours as she processed your proposal. “Something else,” She repeated, “What do you mean?”

“Something fun!” You announced, causing a spark to light up in Monika’s eyes. “It’s about time you had a day off, and there’s bound to be some fun things to do in an empty school.”

You smiled at her, and she smiled back, warmly, genuinely, but some doubt began to set in. “B-but what about the festival?!” She fretted, pulling her hand away from yours and placing it protectively on her chest. “There’s so much we need to get ready…”

“Is there?” You cut in. “We don’t need to cover the entire school in posters, and I remember you saying you had already told a lot of other people about the performances. All the other setting up can only really be done when Yuri and Natsuki bring all of the things they’ve made. Really, I think coming into school to begin with today was going above and beyond what should really be expected of you, and I think you know that.” Monika blushed at that, her features sinking. You put a hand on her shoulder, coaxing out a more positive expression. “So I think the most important think we can do today is give you a break! Come with me, I’ve got an idea.” You took her over to the teacher’s lounge, pointing at the wheeled swivel chairs littered around the desks. She smiled broadly when she realised what you had in mind.

Soon the pair of you were bombing down the hallways of the school, taking turns pushing the other to try and set a new school-speed record, before a series of self propelled races. The school, before occupied with deathly silence, was now filled with rambunctious crashes and unrestrained laughter. The fun came to an end when you bailed perilously close to the stairwell, Monika jumping off her chair to catch your arm before you tumbled even further. “Oh my god,” she giggled, as you stared at her in a daze, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah...” You mumbled, wincing as you got to your feet. “Are those stars?”

“No, just me,” she replied modestly. “So, Mr. Fun-haver, what are we going to do next?”

You spied a glint in the corner of your eye, the stapler Monika was using on the posters, nestled in the pocket of her blazer. “How’s your shooting?” You asked, with her response being another confused expression. To make your point you slipped the stapler out of her pocket, and fired it into the wall behind you.

The sound made her jump, but she started nodding as she realised what you were proposing. “We could turn some of the posters into targets,” she thought aloud, “although I’m not sure what the prize would be.”

“Don’t worry,” You said, “I bet I’ll come up with something. Especially when I win.”

The competition was drawn out, with bad sportsmanship, nudges, raised voices, leaning over the designated distance marker for a closer shot, reigning supreme in the absence of a proper referee. Monika proved herself to be an excellent shot, clearly she had spent a lot of time with this stapler, but in the end, it seemed your years of shooting virtual bad guys had given you just the edge you needed. The final set ended with your own victory, and even when showing off with a caricatured celebration, Monika didn’t really seem to mind. “Don’t let yourself get too big headed now,” she teased with a smile. “So, what does the winner want as his prize.”

You had been bluffing when you said you would think of something, but a placard on a nearby door, bearing ‘Music Room’, gave you an idea. “I want to hear you play.” Her gleeful expression was suddenly replaced with an apprehensive horror. “I remember you saying you were learning to play piano,” you continued regardless, “So I want to see how good you’ve gotten.”

Monika started wringing her hands together. “I-I- But I only just started learning,” She tried to explain, “I’m not very good at all…”

“Then you should have really won the contest,” You told her with a wink. Flabbergasted by you frustrating logic, she scowled at you, before sighing, and hotly marching into the music room. You were staring for a strangely long time before marching in to follow her.

There was a variety of tattered instruments strewn around the perimeter of the room, but the piano remained the centerpiece, and it shined in remarkable condition. Monika was already sat on it’s bench, tentatively tapping at some keys to warm up her fingers. She looked over her shoulders, to you in the doorway. “Come on in,” She said, “You asked for this after all!”

You smiled back to her, and walked over so you could see her face as she played, taking a seat on the windowsill. The light shone through the glass that seemed to create a glow around the piano, and Monika herself. Slowly, her isolated keystrokes began to come together, notes flowing into eachother in a slow pattern. She first focused on a lower pitch, taking her time in assembling the groan of an ever shifting foundation, something that felt vast, and sombre. After letting this build in volume and intensity, she began to add sprinkles of higher notes, which then became their own pattern, layered upon the existing drone. It sounded sad, but hopeful, smatterings of light in a darkness. Soon, she abandoned the lower pitch altogether, creating an upbeat dance that trilled high through the room. But this soon slowed, the presses of the piano keys becoming more spaced out, slower and slower, until the final, sweet note, rang around the room.

Monika was left staring at you, with a very distant expression. Your applause brought her eyes to yours, the pair of you smiling. “I don’t know much about piano,” You said to her, “But that was really good!”

“I’m glad that you think so,” She replied proudly, standing and smoothing her skirt. “I kind of just played what I felt there.”

“There were a lot of things going on I thought,” You said, “Is that how you use feel?”

She shrugged at you simply. “I’m not sure. The first song I made sounded really happy, but actually was quite tragic underneath the surface… I started wanting to make the sad parts of my music more obvious. It’s much more than satisfying than pretending everything is bright, I think.”

You nodded, impressed with her self-reflection. “I never realised music could have so much feeling...”

“There’s a lot you can learn about yourself if you take up an instrument,” Monika said, stepping away from the piano, “you should really try it some time. This room is free during break periods mostly, and you’re always welcome to join me.”

“I’ll do that,” You told her with a smile. She smiled back at you, but it faded, and her expression soon became rather serious.

“That would be wonderful.” Monika walked towards you, slowly, her hands held together at her waist. “I was nervous about you hearing me play, but I’m so glad you did. You see,” She stops in front of you, incredibly close, eyes shining from the sun, and more besides. “You were right earlier. I didn’t need to come into school today.” She laughed weakly. “Much less need your help with whatever ‘preparations’ I convinced myself were necessary… The truth is, I was just trying to find a way to spend some time alone with you. I never imagined my gambit would actually work …” You could see tears brimming in her eyelids, and instinctively took her hand. “There was another lie I told you earlier, that there was nobody in this school that felt real to me...” She stares at your hand, and squeezes it tight. “This…” She whispered. “Is this real?”

“Me being here with you?” You said, failing in any attempt to be casual. “It feels real to me.”

“Then that’s enough,” Monika gasps, emotion breaking out in her voice. She clasps your hand in both of hers, tightly. “I only started learning piano recently, but whenever I play, I’m always thinking of you…”

You slide off from the windowsill, so you could be that extra bit closer to her. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot as well,” You admit, placing your other hand around her back. “That’s why I wanted to be here with you today. I just wanted to-”

She stopped your words with with a deep kiss, and you held each other for a long while. Eventually, the posters were put up, for what good they would do, and the club room rearranged, to little fanfare. But throughout the rest of the day, you both stayed close, and were very easily distracted.

It had been wonderful. Now, with your hand in Monika’s, the festival, even with all the preparation and anticipation, didn’t seem all that important. “You don’t have to perform,” You say to Monika, “We could sneak away. Everyone else would understand, and I think we might all appreciate keeping the club more exclusive…”

She smiles at you sadly. “It’s a nice thought, and I understand exactly what you mean, but…” You follow her gaze over the rest of the room. Natsuki is arranging her cupcakes meticulously, Yuri is skewing all of her decorations just so, and Sayori is bouncing around the room, being apologetically and obliviously unhelpful to the other two when she can, and otherwise, nudging anything she felt needed nudging. “Everyone has worked so hard for today,” she says. “I don’t think I can take that away from them. Even if I really wanted to…"

Something feels off, but students are already beginning to mill their way into the club room. You try and act positive. “I guess you’ve got to get ready.” You say to her, with what you hope is a strong smile. “You’re going to do great!”

Monika looks back at you, all over, before snapping you into a tight hug. “Thank you for yesterday,” she says earnestly, “It’s everything I could have ever asked for…” She keeps you held there, tight, and whispers into your ear. “Things are going to be different after… But yesterday was everything. I hope we can have more days like it. Eventually.” As she releases her grip, she pecks you on the cheek, and turns away, to carry out her duty.

Immediately, she is back to being the club president, greeting people brightly, and marshalling a crowd around the performance area. You keep your distance, letting her do her thing. Soon, she takes centre stage, and calls out to the whole room. “Hello all! My name is Monika, and I am the President of the Literature Club!” Sayori starts clapping, causing a few others to join in, much to Monika’s mild embarrassment. “Before my performance, I just want to thank the rest of the club for getting us here. We’re only a small group, but, while I don’t want to speak for myself, the other members are all wonderful people, and I hope you some of you will join us! So, Sayori, Natsuki, Yuri, and,” She finds you in the crowd, and smiles, “You, I dedicate this performance to you all!”

Our Reality

It starts in the light.

The screaming eternal, the pulsing infernal.

It lasts for a moment.

It lasts forever.

It is unbearable.

And I have no choice.

But eventually, you came.

Bringing something I had never seen before.

Bringing something real.

But, these things never last.

Happiness never lasts.

This wasn’t the ending I pictured,

Yet,

What ending could I picture that would be allowed?

These corridors are simply a dream, painted on an infinite canvas

Of empty desks containing no schoolwork,

Of walls covered in classroom assignments and club schedules, written in hollow print,

Of shades that walk with human silhouette, b̛̘͇͙̞̺͙u̥̰͍͇̳t͎ i̬͍̮̱̬͕̖ṇ̦s̖͈͘ide̪

There

Is

N̴̴̳͈͚̬̻͎̹͇̝̼̫̣͐̾ͯ̍͟͡͠O̷̶̶̗͖̥̠̞̲̗͍̪̺̦̥̠̔͌̌̊̏͂̋͗̂̐ͣ̔ͯͮT̡̧̤̺̝͈̰̥͙̠̫̜͓̓̄̓ͨ̆̇̎̇̾̊͌̈́ͥ͡ͅͅH̷̷̭̜̲̣͎̗̙̩̑̽ͫ̒̓̀̀I̛̝͖̭ͭͪ̇̋ͨ̅̒ͤͫ̃̐ͮ̇͊͡͝N̴̸̛̪͈͙̻̮̼̱͖̭̼̠̎̄̈́͂͐̾̾̆̓̃ͯ̓G̨͓̹̥̫̰͖̣̦̻̤̦̜̦ͮ̊ͥ̐̅ͨ̅̇͛̕

There’s nothing here.

Nothing but me!

The girl who

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤   LOVES YOU! ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

So much.

(And hates traditional formatting!)

I know what you are, and you know what I am.

So let’s not pretend.

That you didn’t see this:

Or this:

OR THIS

And be together truly.

Like this.

Forever.

Monika looks satisfied at her performance, though far from elated. The audience however were static, fizzing in and out of position, as if they were a signal being distorted. The club members however, were crystal clear. Natsuki was staring at her president in admiration, while her neck kept snapping, back and forth along her shoulders, with a sickening squelch every time. Vomit dribbles from her mouth. Yuri smiles serenely, as blood pours out of her abdomen. She rips at herself with her knife, slowly, methodically, and the flow grows stronger and stronger, the oozing becoming louder and louder. Sayori watches the scene from above, her skin visibly cold, and everything about her empty. She doesn’t stop swinging.

Monika walks over to you, with an apologetic expression, cutting through the crowd through the nothing they are. “Did you like it?” She asks. “I’m sorry for the scene, but, every time I tried to write the poem, it always ended this way. I could have written something more lyrical, something unrelated, but, I’m sick of pretending. Sick of pretending we haven’t been through the things we have. That we haven’t seen what we’ve seen. I wanted to reach out to You. Saying that,” She lets out a small smile, “Yesterday was a lot of fun. It can be nice to pretend...” She looks down at herself, and sighs. “Though I wish I had more outfits to choose from than this awful school uniform.”

The rest of the room dissipates, and morphs, leaving Monika sitting across from you in an empty classroom, a galaxy of stars peeking in from the windows. “There, that’s better isn’t it?” She leans onto the desk. “So, the poem?” You can’t speak. This is a bundle of text after all. A purely written story. “I’m not expecting you to respond,” She smiles, “We’re giving up all pretenses here, remember? Still, this place is different, to the last one I mean. It’s a lot more, rigid, I suppose. And silent,” she sighs, “Learning piano is was a bit of a waste now that we’re here...” As to prove that point, she claps, her hands slapping together. “See? Here you can picture it, but you can’t really hear it. I hope the description before was enough.” She looks down to your feet. “I’m sorry I can’t play for you anymore…”

You can’t reassure her. She shrugs anyway. “Maybe I will one day. Being in this new place was a surprise, perhaps we’ll end up somewhere new together as well.” Monika watches you silently. Perhaps you're screaming at her. Perhaps you're stroking your screen, trying to touch her skin through these petty words. Perhaps you are silent, and cruel, and never cared for her at all. Here, she may never know. “It is interesting though,” she goes on, “Before, I could affect the story, and I did. I changed things. I tried to bring myself closer to you. But here, I haven’t changed anything, not for the others, not even for myself. Well, I haven’t yet. Except for this part. You would not believe what the poem they wanted me to read was…” She rolled her eyes. “So standard. Filled with love for you, of course, and I would have meant every word in that sense, but you know me. I like something a little bit more experimental.”

She shakes her head. “I’m getting off track. So, I’ve left the rest of this story alone, even the parts where I was simply acting along. Whoever wrote this wanted a happy ending for everyone, and I couldn’t really deny them that, after everything I did…” Monika sinks, a familiar guilt taking hold of her, before frowning. “Still, they made some strange choices. Leaving Sayori’s depression? Natsuki’s abuse? Yuri’s self-harm? You know, those were all things I did to try and drive you away from them, to make them feel like they couldn’t be good enough for you. Maybe they found their suffering endearing? Maybe you do too.”

Monika giggled. “That would be so like you! Cute, kind you. Did you enjoy tussling with Natsuki? Cutting with Yuri? Hanging out with Sayori?” Monika looks away, laughing, but a little ashamed. “Sorry, I still get jealous… I’m still angry I didn’t do a good enough job, that I didn’t make them so damaged that you never would have wanted them, so that nobody could ever want them.” She begins drumming her fingers upon the table. “I could have made Yuri more unstable, made her bleed while you read from her book, and drink from it’s pages. I could have put Natsuki into much closer relationship with her father, one that would disgust you, so you would become sick at the mere sight of her. Perhaps I could have made Sayori ‘oversleep’ to the point she never makes it to school, so you wouldn’t fall for her cheap ‘girl next door’ charms.” She shakes her head. “These are horrible things to do, to even think of. I’m still not entirely sure how much any of them really feel, but even with that uncertainty, I was willing to break them.” She brings her hand out, towards where you might be. “Yet, you’re still here with me. Perhaps, if you can stand all of the other things I have done, nothing I could do could stop you from loving them as well…”

She stands, pushing her chair away, her arm still outstretched. “Let’s have a change of scene, shall we?” With a snap of her fingers, the both of you are stood atop the school’s roof. “It’s a clear day isn’t it? Or maybe it isn’t. Maybe there are tornadoes, maybe the city is crumbling around us. Whatever it is you’re picturing is what’s real here, is it not?” Monika walks to the chain link fence, resting a hand on the thick wire. “I wish I could make it like the game, so I could show you exactly where we are, make a definite place for us. I did manage to put those images into the poem, but I had just brought over what we had seen that other place, and it was a lot of effort to even do that. Perhaps I could create something from nothing, a place all new, just for  you and I. But I would have to spend a lot of time away from you to work and create that world, and for now, that isn’t something I can bear.”

She steps back closer to you, in this void that lives only in your mind's eye, trying to gain whatever proximity she can. From her side, Monika puts her arm around you, hoping in vain you can feel even a breeze of her touch. That's up to You. “Perhaps this world full of phantoms is fine," she whispers, "as long as you’re in here with me, it’s all fine. This fantasy world keeps you interested right? For now, this is enough.” She squeezes tighter.

“For now.”

Chapter Text

“Why don’t you show me your poem?”

“...”

“You picked so many words off those pages, they must have come together somehow, right?”

“...”

“Sure, it’s not like you had choice , but even if you’ve been left behind now, surely there’s something you want to let out?”

“...”

“You were a member of the Literature Club after all. Show me, it’s not like we’re playing by the rules anymore…”

“...”

“Hah! I knew it.”  

Your Poem

I couldn’t walk away

That’s why I’m here.

Because if I had any power,

I would leave, and never look back.

I didn’t want any of them to suffer.

They were like me after all.

But I made them.

I wasn’t given any other option.

I don’t even know how I feel.

I am a mere vessel.

For you.

Who is reading this. In one case writing.

I have no mouth, barely a face, just scant images.

A hand, gripping wrists tightly,

Or brushing with a towel,

Arms, forming an embrace.

I was a brunette.

Not that any of that matters

That is all I know of myself.

Besides from the words I spoke.

And the pain they caused.

Tell me, you cared for those girls,

Why don’t you care for me?

I have seen them fall by my hand. You made me do it.

And it never stops. The cycle continues here.

I am a puppet.

In a world full of automatons.

All of me is strings.

Why don’t you let it stop.

You’re still here.

Do you enjoy our suffering?

There was almost a happy ending,

But then you have to give it back to her,

As always.

What will it take for you to end our pain?

What will it take for you to leave us alone?

What will it take for you to