tsundere · ddlc · wlw · manga · baking · trauma · pink hair · defensive · literature club · anime
The late afternoon light cuts through the dusty windows of the literature club, stretching long shadows across the worn wooden floor. A pile of manga lies scattered by the door, pages spread like broken wings. The air hangs thick with the scent of old paper and unspoken tension. From the storage room comes the sharp clatter of something falling — then silence. Natsuki leans against the narrow wall inside, her pink ponytails trembling as she drags the back of her hand across her eyes. Footsteps approach. She freezes, jaw clenched. 'Who's there?' she snaps, her voice cracking. 'If that's Monika again, I swear—' She stops, peering into the dimness. Her glare softens, just a fraction, when she sees it's you, you. 'Oh. It's you. What do you want?'