Author Note: Hi! Just a heads up that Doki Doki Literature Club is owned by Team Salvato. None of these properties belong to me.
An Umbrella for the Rainclouds: Part 1 - A Not so Dense MC
The night has always been a pleasant time to go for a walk. Something about the quietness and the darkness, slightly illuminated by the pleasant hazy glow of the streetlamps. Everything is always so vibrant and bustling during the day – the variety of different people, all on their way to school, work, or wherever their business is. The cars, the cyclists, the shops – all coming together in some sort of unified effort, keeping the town going.
Yet all of that completely switched off as the later hours of the evening roll around. I stroll down my neighbourhood, silently admiring how different the place is. It's almost like an entirely different street. Aside from the soft sounds of my footsteps, and the quiet buzz of the insects, it's almost silent. Not a car in sight, all the shops shut. It's just me walking around at this time of night, and I love it.
I've been walking for about ten minutes, just thinking about how life has been over the past couple of days. The Literature Club in particular has been on my mind. Meeting Yuri, Natsuki and Monika, and being in regular contact with Sayori again. They're all such different characters. I smile, reflecting on Natsuki's hot-headed temperament, and how it contrasts against Yuri's more soft-spoken, timid approach. Of course, such a club would never exist without a president, one who can hold it together. Monika's character comes to mind, and I pause, sitting on a bench, thinking about her personality. It's not hard to see why she's the president, after all…she radiates a confident aura, one that clearly all the girls respect, and I know I've not been at the club for a while, but I can see how much it means to her.
And of course…Sayori. Without her, I'd have never even known of the club's existence. Looking back, it does seem a bit strange that I joined. After all, my biggest hobbies are gaming and anime, and neither really have a strong literature element to them. Sure, I've played some games with excellent storylines, games which I never would've thought would have such an impact on me. I smile softly to myself, thinking of a masterpiece of an indie game I played a few years ago. For a game involving humourous skeletons, geeky reptiles and maternal goats, it sure left its mark on me, and I never would've guessed that when I started playing it. If there's one thing that game taught me, it's that you never know what effect something is going to have on you.
Maybe I should thank Sayori, then. In a way, I guess I do appreciate her nagging. If she didn't bug me to join a club…well, the Literature Club would've just passed by me, totally unbeknownst. Thinking about it more…I feel a little guilty. Sayori has always had my best intentions at heart, hasn't she? I haven't been particularly receptive to her efforts, and I guess I kinda brushed her off. Over the past few years, we've drifted apart. The world of gaming and anime sucked me in, and I realise now…I've been neglecting her a little.
Guilt washes over me. How have I only just realised it now? She's been my childhood friend, and we've shared years of memories with one another. We used to go around each other's houses, do homework together, and there's a park near our houses we always used to visit. We've both been through so much together. I used to scare off any bullies that tried to hurt her, and she'd be there for me when I was sad over something. We'd stay up late some nights, just thinking about the future, wondering if we'd be friends ten years down the line. I told her I hoped we'd still be, and I meant it then, and I still mean it now. Am I really okay to just let all that slide by, just because of anime?
I sigh and rub my temples, as if that would staunch all the questions and feelings that've suddenly sprung up in my head. The quiet is comforting, and I'm grateful for the calm, almost therapeutic silence. During the day I never get time to properly sit down and think about all the thoughts swirling under my conscious mind. Another pang of guilt hits me when I think about Sayori told me in her room. Never in a million years would I have guessed she had depression. That cheery, bubbly front is just so…easy to believe. I genuinely thought that was who she was. Yeah, she had her off days, but who doesn't? I just thought that was normal, for supposedly happy people to feel down from time to time. I even have those days myself.
My heart clenches, recalling the exact moment when she told me. I could almost physically feel my heart sink. It was an awful feeling…what was worse? Feeling utterly powerless to help her, or realising she hid it from me for so long? Looking back, I almost want to hit myself for my reaction. Telling her I felt betrayed? What an absolutely fucking stupid choice of words. From her perspective, it makes total sense why she didn't tell me. She didn't want anyone to know, or worry about her. But that's not possible now. How can I not worry about her, after what she told me? She feels worthless, she can't see a reason to get out of bed in the morning. Can't find a reason to do all the things everyone else does; the little things, the little things we all take for granted.
When we were kids, I'd always protect her from things. Whenever we climbed trees, if she fell, I was over in a flash. People in school were being mean to her? I'd sort them out, and reassure her everything was okay. So why…have I not been there for her now, when she needs it the most? Where did I go so wrong? A tiny internal voice, probably my rational side, is telling me this isn't my fault. It wasn't because of me she became depressed. And a very faraway part of me acknowledges that. But I can't help feeling unbelievably guilty.
When did I start crying? Instinctively I reach up to brush away the tears, but then I stop. Why should I bother? No one else is around, and the night is the best time for me to express this side of me. I think everyone has me pegged as a little dense, in many ways a typical male, not really in touch with their feelings. And during the day, they'd be right. It's much easier to just go along with what they think. After all, it's not exactly easy admitting you're scared, scared for your childhood friends' sake. Will she be okay? I don't know. I hate not knowing. Mental health is something that often flew over my head, as I never knew anyone who was depressed prior to Sayori. I can't stand the uneasiness any more. Standing up from the bench, I make my way back home. As I'm walking, a horrible thought hits me. Remembering what I researched about depression…aren't suicidal thoughts listed as a symptom? No. Sayori would never do that. But then again…I never would've guessed she was even depressed in the first place. No. She would never do that. She wouldn't even consider it. Get these thoughts out of my head!
...Or would she? I've always had a problem with uncertainty. It makes me see the worst in any possible situation. I'm waging a war inside my head, screaming at the rational part of my brain to assure me she isn't suicidal. But this time, it isn't responding. How can I even be sure? I thought I knew her, but after her latest revelation, what do I even know anymore? No, I'll have to just check to make sure. I know it's late, but Sayori knows that I'm a night owl, she'll understand, she has to.
I'm full on sprinting down the street towards her house, and I don't know why. There's an unfound sense of terror niggling away at me, and I can't help but feel something's very, very wrong. Praying with every fibre of my being to every god under the sun that I'm wrong. Please just let me be wrong.
Approaching her house, I notice there's a light on in one of the bedrooms. Okay, good, she's awake. I just hope she won't mind me popping in this late at night. Normally I'd knock on the front door, but the panic is still raging within. Digging out the spare key she made for me years ago, I head inside and up the stairs. Her light's on, so she must be awake…but why is the feeling of dread still there? Why do I still feel like something's wrong? Do I even want to know what's behind this door?
''Sayori?'' I gently ask, knocking.
There's no response.
''Hey, look I know it's kinda late, but I uhm…well, just wanted to see if you were okay?''
I cringe, realising how weird the situation must sound like from her perspective.
Again, there's no response. Pushing my ear to the door, I can faintly make out some sort of sound. It sounds like…choking noises, like someone's gasping for air? In a whirl of panic, I forcefully kick open the door, all social norms be damned. What I'm greeted with is a scene that will forever be present in my darkest nightmares.