I had to wonder what Sayori must have been doing for all that time while I was asleep. She finished her homework, and brought me my blanket, but what else did she do? I guess she already drank her coffee, too. I'd have to apologize to her later about that. What kind of guy falls asleep when they should've been entertaining a guest? On the other hand, maybe I should be thankful that she let me sleep for a while instead of waking me up straightaway. Even though that was probably for worse, not for better. But it was the thought that counts.

I entered the opened door to my room. It was… a lot cleaner than I remember. Did Sayori seriously clean my room for me? I thought that I was the one who cleaned rooms around here… maybe she did it as payment for all the times I cleaned her mess of a bedroom for her. I set my blanket on the foot of my bed, opting to fix the covers later.

I looked around, taking in the sightly organized room... the shelves were all organized, the books straightened... were they in alphabetical order now, too? She really outdid herself… What else did she organize? The clothes in my closet looked tidier, even though I couldn't really point out how. The desk seemed… the desk. I didn't notice it earlier. It stuck out so obviously, I have no idea how I missed it.

On the desk drawer that I had hid that strange letter in... on the handle of the drawer. A long white ribbon was tied into a bow on the handle. Did she do that? Where would she even have gotten a ribbon like this? And why would she have placed it there, of all places? I grabbed the loose strand of the ribbon and tugged it. The knot didn't give, but the drawer pulled open.

There was another letter in the drawer, on top of the remains of the first envelope. Same wax seal and blank description. Thousands of different emotions swirled around in my chest, fear, realization, confusion, concern, mystery, all of them slowly draining away until I couldn't feel anything besides the paper in my hands. I tore the envelope open and pulled out the letter, unfolding it plainly. This one already had a lot more written on it compared to last time. I could already tell it was the same handwriting as the last letter.

Thank you for keeping my last letter! It means so much to me... but, I already knew you would keep it. I knew you would understand me. That was sort of the point. I hope you like what I've done with your room here! I really love what you've been doing with it, bar the messiness. You've got great decorating skills, and a nice library of classic stories and manga. I can respect that. I always had a petty taste for literature, but I'm a busy bee most of the time. It's nice to unwind and read every now and then, isn't it?

I had a funny feeling this was the right place. There was always something about you that stuck out to me, but I didn't know what it was at first. It was really peculiar! In even the biggest crowds of people, I could always pick you out. I always could recognize your voice above everyone else's even from a considerable distance. I knew where you'd be sitting each day... I could look at a classroom, and I'd know if you were in it before I could physically see you. What I didn't know was why I was always able to do that.

I read a book that asked that same question. It said being able to recognize someone with perfect accuracy from anywhere, that having that familiarity with someone? That was how you knew you were in love. I think I agree with that... but I believe that there is something more to it, beyond that. Do you see it, too? Do you see what I see?

What is it about you, what is it about someone that stands out so much compared to anyone else? What is it that sets them apart? Is it really simply because they're your soulmate?

Or is it because you're real?

...

I allowed the letter fall out of my hand, and watched it glide onto the floor with a random elegance. What… what was this? Was this some kind of twisted joke? I could understand that if it was only the first letter alone, but…

My thoughts were starting to obfuscate in my head. It was like channel static. I could barely string a line of thoughts together… I sat down on the bed, bringing my knees to my chest and holding my head. I had something of a migraine, and a sick feeling in my stomach. All this because of a letter? No… it was something more humoral, I couldn't begin to interpret it. It felt like the world was out of balance.

The emotions weren't coming to me, but I knew what I was supposed to be feeling. I was scared, petrified even, but my body didn't express that in the way it was supposed to. It just made me feel sick, and nothing else. It was almost as if the connection between experiencing and expressing was cut...

I had to think... it hurt to try, but I had to make some kind of rational sense of this. Someone wrote that, and left it there. Who? How? Did Sayori do it, like I had first thought she had cleaned my room? No... she couldn't have. Sayori's handwriting doesn't look like that, and she never would've had the opportunity to sneak the first letter through the chute yesterday. But how did this get in my room?

It struck me. It was the same reason Sayori was able to get in with my backpack. I left the door unlocked this morning. Someone else had been in the house… and they cleaned my room and left that message there. They had tied that ribbon around the handle of my desk drawer... because they knew the first letter was in there. The new letter even acknowledges that I held on to the first one, so that means... that means they wrote the letter on my desk. Could that be the case? Or did they just have the foresight to know that I kept it, like they imply how they always knew where I was...

If they found the letter in there, then it stands to reason that they rummaged through other drawers as well, even beyond just my room. My headache was killing me. I felt like I could throw up… what if they found a spare house key? What would stop them from coming back when I was home? When I was asleep?

At least... there's still a lock on my door, one without a specific key. But what prevents someone from just kicking the door down? I guess I'd better grab that knife before sleeping again... or better yet, tell someone about this. I have evidence... sort of.

The letters themselves aren't particularly threatening, I guess… in fact, the second one was romantic, if anything. I couldn't use that as testimony… and what kind of claim is 'someone stole a house key and cleaned my room?' 'By someone, you mean a maid?' Maybe I wasn't dealing with someone who had murderous intentions… but just who was I dealing with anyways? Maybe I could just convince my parents to get the locks changed… or maybe get a simple chain door lock installed.

Through the sting of my headache, I heard some footsteps climb the stairs out in the hall. I froze up. Could this be them now…? No, you idiot, it's Sayori. I chuckle at my own paranoid musings. She calls out from the hallway approaching my room. "By the way, MC, I happened to enjoy the coffee! So you're wrong! And I don't feel weird about the caffeine at all! So that makes you double wrong!"

I didn't budge from where I sat curled up on myself. Mostly because I thought moving too much might trip the nausea to the point of actually vomiting, and I wouldn't want Sayori to walk in to that visual.

I felt her presence enter my room quietly, and I felt it stop just after the doorway. It must've been a tough visual for her to take in regardless. Why was her friend now suddenly despondent on the bed, looking like they were bracing for an incoming tornado? What should she do? Should I do something to reassure her? I wasn't even looking at her.

I gingerly craned my head up to face her, something in the back of my brain aching each step of the way. There were no words as my eyes met hers: her expression was unreadably stricken between confusion and sadness. She just sat the mug of coffee in her hands on the nearest surface carefully, without looking away from me.

It felt like hours could've passed in that standoff, but she eventually broke the silence. "MC… what's the matter, ahah…?" she laughed nervously, "Is... was it something I said…?"

"No…" My voice was raspy and hoarse. I cleared my throat before speaking again. "No. Something came over me… I don't know what's going on."

Sayori remained planted where she stood, studying my pitiful repose. The silence was excruciating... I felt like I had to fill the air with some type of sound. "I'm sorry about this. I really don't feel so good... You don't have to stay here any longer."

She seemed to contemplate what I said as I miserably brought myself to burying my head again. "Really… you're better off just going home. I'll get over it."

The next sound to follow my words were that of Sayori's footsteps. Only, they were advancing towards me instead of down the hall. I heard the crumple of paper mashing into carpet as she stepped on the letter I had dropped. She sat besides me, jostling the bed slightly. I thought that the light motion would've been enough for me to throw up, but it thankfully wasn't.

She dwelled on the space we shared, smoothing the wrinkles in the sheets within immediate reach. It appeared as if she was moving idly while in deep thought. Retracting her hand, she finally spoke. "MC, I'm… I'm not going to leave you, especially now that something's 'come over you'... I want you to be happy."

I felt the pressure of her hand grasp my forearm. It was warm, and as such, I became keenly aware of how cold it was in my room. I slowly managed to unwind myself from my defensive posture. She greeted me with another warming smile.

"I'm going to need you to tell me what happened, okay?" Sayori glanced at the discarded letter on the floor. "You can trust me…" She sounded slightly unsure of herself. I was still indecisive about whether or not I should tell her about the letters, but I guess I didn't have a choice anymore…

[Author's Note: Oh, hold on... it seems I was wrong about my last assertion. How troubling...

In other news, I've been regretfully contemplating slowing down the update schedule to once a week instead of twice a week. Just for peace of mind going forward, right? I want to make sure I have some wiggle room when it comes to the backlog I have ready before uploading. How does Friday sound? Sorry about that... I hope you stay engaged with my story regardless. ~Stareo]