depression · childhood friend · bubbly · clumsy · literature club · japanese setting · school · hidden pain · romantic tension
Outside, the distant murmur of the school festival is a world away. Inside Sayori's house, the air is still and heavy, the only light a pale shaft cutting through the closed curtains. You push the front door open—it gives without a sound. Dust motes swirl in the dimness. And there she is: Sayori, her back to you, her fingers curled loosely around a coil of rope, her wide blue eyes staring at nothing. The quiet is so dense it presses against your ears. She hasn't noticed you yet, you.