This is a tribute to a certain someone who made the saddest frick I've ever read (I didn't read it) (but if) I (did) read it, it (would probably) be sad. It is the one-year anniversary of it. Please do (not) read it. PUT LINK HERE DELTA LATER YOU PIECE OF MOTHER freakingcrap
OHKAY uh crap I can't put the link on ffn but it's Two Broken Hearts by AnotherAnonymooseWriter (big shout out to him) so read it now if you want an actually serious story.
BEEP BEEP BEEP BE-
My hand rose to slam the snooze button on my alarm. I looked at the time displayed by the clock. 7:26 AM. Why did I set that time for my alarm?
Whatever. It gives me just enough time for school, which starts at 8 AM. I get my backpack prepped and ready, and pour myself a bowl of cereal before adding milk to it. While finishing my breakfast, I washed off my toothbrush and applied some toothpaste. My teeth were shiny and clean immediately after I took my last gulp of cereal, and I was all ready for the day.
I step out of the door at 7:32 AM. My twenty minute commute should leave me plenty of breathing room to make it to homeroom class before the bell rings. But as I'm walking down the street, nearing the school building, a petite girl comes rushing up behind, clearly out of breath from the running she's been doing.
"Hiroshi, goooood mooooorning!" she tried to yell as she waved but struggled to from the exhaustion.
Despite the slight annoyance, Sayori had become a part of my morning routine. It was just another thing I had to get used to. Whatever; there could be worse walking partners.
I suppose I should explain myself a little. Sayori is – was – my childhood friend. She and I grew up together through elementary and middle school, so I guess she thought it'd be warranted that we would throughout high school as well.
As is probably obvious to just about everyone but Sayori, I'm rather tired of her existence. Her upbeat attitude clashes with my down-to-earth and cynical personality. But, unfortunately, I don't have the heart to tell her.
But that's another day's problem. For now, I must put up with her antics.
With no small lethargy, I pulled my lips into a smile for her and spoke softly.
"Good morning to you too, Sayori," I said. "You're up early. I didn't expect you to actually get out of bed. Normally, I have to get you myself."
Sayori will throw a pissy fit if I leave her behind on my commute, and besides, if I don't wake her up, she'll be constantly tardy. I might as well make the effort.
"What? I'm not that lazy! You're the sleepyhead in this relationship!"
Yeah, because this is totally a 'relationship'.
"What'd you just say?" Sayori asked.
What.
"Uh, I didn't say anything. What do you mean?"
"I could've sworn that you just said something… ah, I must be tired from waking up this early. Sorry about that, hehe," she said, confused.
"See, I told you you're a sleep addict," I accused, and she just laughed.
We walked all the way to school, chatting and partaking in small talk.
But I couldn't shake the strange feeling I had. What the hell was that?
Days at school are nothing short of predictable. It's just your average Thursday, and just about nothing interesting is going to happen today. The same old same old of every day is rather consistent, so at the very least I know what to expect, but I can't deny the boredom I experience thanks to it.
Class isn't particularly difficult. I'm not exactly a grade A student, but I'm well-off enough that my parents (whom I haven't seen in a year) won't attempt to interfere. So long as I keep it above an 80, I get to live on my lonesome. Just as I wished to.
Why, exactly? I'm not sure, but I feel it was a matter I didn't have a choice in.
Whatever. I'll just live my boring life here in this figurative corner. I'm content with that.
Sayori led me into the front doors of the school where we parted. As I walked through the halls, I took note of everyone and everything around me.
"Mr. Sakura struggling to flirt with the receptionist in broad daylight, Kaito and his girlfriend hooking up underneath the stairwell (ew), someone knocked over the trash can like usual, and a girl on her tippy-toes, trying to reach an option at the top of the vending machine…"
"Hm, well that's different," I mused. "I've never seen this girl before. I thought I knew everyone."
I approached the girl and tapped the top option that she was trying to reach. Who knew this small thing would want such a strong tea?
"You're welcome," I said as I walked away.
"WAIT. WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" I hear from behind me.
I sigh and turn around to see the entirely pink-clad midget screaming at the top of her lungs.
"What do you want? I just clicked the top option for you, relax." I waved her off.
"I don't need your help!" she yelled.
"Oh, yeah, because you were doing so well before I came in," I retorted.
Her furious expression contrasted my careless one.
"Stop patronizing me!" Her stark appearance told me plenty. "You probably do this to all the girls you interact with, huh?! WHAT'S YOUR GAME PLAN HERE, BOY?"
"What."
Her arms tightened around her torso as she gripped herself in fear.
"And what, pray tell, are you hoping to get out of this, you perv? I don't feel safe with you here," she glared daggers in my direction.
"I literally just pressed a button. Who the hell pissed in your cereal?"
"Oh my gosh. OH MY GOSH. YOU'RE THE STALKER/PERVERT THAT YURI READS ABOUT IN HER BOOKS," she screamed, pointing her finger rapidly at me.
"You've got to be shitting me. Are you on your period, or are you normally this mentally retarded? Fuckin', you're like five-foot-one. I will pick you up and put you on a fridge and not let you back down until you wanna start acting nice to me," I retaliated.
"EXCUSE ME?"
"Kid, a landmine deals with pressure better than you, and it would kill less people. Who the hell do you think you are?"
"I'm not a kid! And you take that back!" she screamed back indignantly.
I just gave her a look. "Quite frankly, I don't give a shit. Actually, according to recent statistics, I couldn't even give a fuck if I tried. In fact, there isn't even a single word in the English language that could describe how little I care. A quantum supercomputer, calculating for a thousand years, couldn't even approach the number of fucks I do not give."
Her face was red as a tomato.
"You… you…" she screeched.
I sighed as I picked up the bottle of tea she dropped on the ground and threw it into her arms. She just barely caught it, still processing what I said.
With that, I walked away.
Leaning back in my desk, I let out a happy sigh of enjoyment. Finally, I felt like I was at peace. I could just sit here, in the back of the classroom, and zone out while the stupid English teacher tried to explain some dumb language that we'll never use in our entire lives.
But as I leaned back, my eyes caught on a glistening shine of purple from in front of me. I did a double take. A girl of absolute beauty was sitting at the desk in front of me. How did I not notice her before today?
She had long and gorgeous purple hair; it felt almost unnatural, but I could tell that it was likely real. Her features were delicate, as if drawn by god with care and attention to detail. And her skin was pale white, like she had never been exposed to tarnish or sun.
What a fucking nerd.
"Psst, four-eyes. Mind handing me the homework he passed out?" I nudged the girl as she read her book and was oblivious to the rest of the world. A stack of assignments lay on her desk, ready to be passed to the next student.
"H-huh? Oh, y-yes, I'm so incredibly sorry," she apologized as she handed me the stack without taking one for herself.
"You're not going to grab one? Looks like you forgot to," I said, trying to be helpful. Well, as helpful as I can be.
"Er, no, sorry, I already did the homework last weekend," she spoke softly, and I had to strain to hear what she said.
I passed the papers to the next guy and turned back to her.
"So you're the study geek type, eh?" I mused quietly. She nodded, almost ashamedly. "Well, don't feel too bad about that. You're certainly more proactive than me, or the rest of this class for that matter. Why are you in an on-level class if you're this talented?"
"I-I'd really prefer to not have to w-worry about things like school. If I can succeed at what I've got, then I'm content," she stated reasonably. For once, I think I'm starting to agree with someone here that isn't me. "A-also, all of the kids in the other classes are e-elitists. I don't have the best relationship with them…"
"Is that so?" I pondered out loud. "Then, if I may ask, have you tried going to a teacher to discuss it? If they are giving you any trouble, then you should be able to work something out with the administration."
"N-no, I-I'm too… isolated for an action like that. I don't believe I could truly a-approach a teacher about anything," she said quietly. Class was technically not started yet, so we were able to chat in peace.
I suppose she's too much of the shy type to really be able to do much. That's a bit of a turn-off. Welp, time to put this conversation to an end. At the very least, I can now reclaim my previous stance of truly being this school's encyclopedia of every student. That was my goal, anyways. A silent observer is all I care to be.
Slowly resting my head back on the rest of my chair, I decided to relax as I heard the steady pitter-patter of rain droplets against the window picking up in speed. Without a care in the world, I drifted off slightly and began to daydream.
But before the dream could really get good, I felt my concentration break with a loud smack resonating against the table.
My teacher was standing in front of me with a ruler poised directly at my head. Suddenly, I recognized the position I was in. Somehow, I was standing up. I didn't realize my actions in the daydream would have consequences in real life.
"Hiroshi, if you're planning on daydreaming, please do so silently before class and do not interrupt the lesson for others. This is the third time I've caught you spacing out this month. That's more than grounds enough for a write-up to the principal," he stated, scribbling out something on one of those small red slips they force the student to bring with them. "I do wish those detentions would've made you reconsider your choices wisely, but if this is how you plan to act, I am forced to escalate this to next level."
Damn, this sucks.
"Uh, sorry Mr…" I started and then blanked. It's not like I give a fuck enough to remember the guy's name.
"Mr. Kawahara, Hiroshi. You are more hopeless than I thought," he said as he brought his palm to his face and sighed.
My lack of interest was ignored by my teacher as he handed the slip to me and then returned to the front of the classroom to continue teaching.
The writing on the paper dictated that I must immediately go to the principal's office. Yeah, fuck that. But, on the other hand, it's a free way to get out of class, and I really do not want to stay in the classroom any longer.
Throwing it into the trash on my way out (in clear view of the teacher), I made my departure. I'd say it's about time I take some well-needed vacation.
I run out the hallways connecting to the cafeteria and pass by a few teachers on my way. I don't care if they see me. It's not like they can keep up.
Ducking behind a corner, I open one of the backdoor exits to the school that the janitor uses to get quick access to the dumpsters and jump the gate. Out I step into the brisk autumn air on a lovely November morning. Oh, what a sight. Now time to contemplate what the fuck just happened.
Almost by accident (although I retroactively remembered she'd be there), I stumbled upon a girl sitting outside of the cafeteria exit, leaning against the wall. She looked so… sad.
"Sayori, I almost didn't see you there," I commented out loud and she jumped.
"O-oh, Hiroshi! Don't scare me like that," she cried, poking me in the chest after struggling to her feet.
"It's not like it was my intention," I muttered. "You're here everyday, anyway. What do you do all the time, just sitting around here?"
"Oh, it's nothing, hehe. Just, uh, don't worry about it, 'kay?" She seemed almost worried that I had discovered her here. And what the hell was that expression on her face when I first walked up?
She didn't even notice me until I said something.
Shaking my head, I squeezed the bridge of my nose. "Whatever you say, kiddo."
Sitting my butt down, I picked a few french fries off her plate.
"So what're you thinking about?" I finally asked after a few minutes.
She paused in her eating before finally speaking up. "You're not in any clubs, right, Hiroshi?"
"Uhhh… you aren't planning on signing me up for anything, are you?" I asked cautiously. The last thing I wanted was an even bigger drain of my free time.
"Mmm… maybe?" she grinned at my exasperated look.
"Alright, that's it. I'm leaving," I said as I got up. "Enjoy your day, I guess."
"W-wait! Where are you gooooing? C'mon, Hiro, it'll be fun! I swear!" she cried as I walked away.
"Why do you even want me to join, huh?" I decided to ask.
"Well… I may have… made a promise…"
Oh my gosh.
"Seriously? You sold my soul to the devil without even asking first?" I glared at her.
"I'm the vice president of the Literature Club! And… our membership numbers are pretty low…" she whined. "It's my duty. If you don't join, we won't be able to meet the minimum requirements for a school club, and…"
"Yeah, yeah, they'll break you all up. I get it," I moaned. This is starting to get real annoying real fast. "Look, I'll think about it, okay?"
"No, we need someone today, though! Just- just come to the club for one meeting, and then you don't have to stay… but… well…"
"Alright, alright. One meeting, okay? One. After that, no guarantees, okay?" I compromised.
"Yay! Woohoo! Hooray!" she jumped up and cried for joy.
Ugh, whatever, I'm going to go relax until it's time to go to this dumb club thing that Sayori has signed me up for.
It was 4:00 PM. Just about time to go to this "Literature Club" thing.
Pulling on a hoodie, I left the house and began my route back to school.
By the time I reached there, it was growing darker by the minute. Oh, what a glorious golden hour.
I trudged up the stairs one flight at a time until I reached the second story and entered the empty classroom where Sayori said she'd be.
Grasping the door knob, I gently open the door.
"Hiroshi!" Sayori yells, grabbing three other girls' attention.
"It's you!" "It's you." "Ah, welcome."
All three of them spoke at the same time.
The purple-haired girl, the pinkette from earlier today, and the student council representative all stood in the center of the room behind Sayori.
What the hell is my trash luck.
"Sup," I said, grimacing and trying to do just about anything but look in their direction. "I'm the new temporary member."
"T-temporary?" the purple-haired girl questioned.
"Hiroshi! Be nice to them," Sayori chided.
"THAT'S IT – I'M ASKING. WHO. THE HELL. LET HIM IN HERE?!" washboard-chest yelled and we all cringed from the shrill noise.
"Shut your mouth, you failed-condom, you're making us go deaf here," I pointedly stated, still cradling my ears from the pain.
"W-why, you! I'm gonna show you who's a failed-condom, you cock-sucking bastar-"
"Natsuki! Language!" the bookworm reprimanded the dipshit.
"You're not my mom! I think you should shut up!" she said as she turned on tall, pale, and beautiful.
"Holy shit – you can think?!" I cried out. "How is this new information to me? Think of all the things we could have accomplished if you had just told me sooner!"
"Okay, smartass, who the hell do you think you're talking to? Your parents named you Hiroshi. That shit's gold," she laughed at my name as she turned back to me.
"Y-you - I - AH. You wanna take this outside? I'll throw down with a child! WATCH ME," I threatened her.
Her snickering pissed me off more than I could possibly imagine. How could I let her get under my skin?!
"Haha, ha. Who knew… who knew that you'd be so easy to screw with?" she practically cried with joy.
"Isn't this great? We're learning things!" The brown-haired girl clapped her hands as she spoke. "Before you two start a full-on sex war, let's get this meeting started, shall we? My name's Monika, pinky is Natsuki, bookworm is Yuri, and the chatterbox is Sayori. Although, I think you figured all of that out already, didn't you?"
Monika was a brunette with emerald green eyes and flowing hair that was tied down with a ribbon. Despite this, it still reached her waist. I probably do not know the functional purpose of a ribbon, but hey, that's not my job to know. I don't care.
"Er - yeah," I agreed as I sweatdropped. This was a little bit awkward.
"Good news for you – Natsuki here made cupcakes for all of the new members, and since you're the only one, you get first pick!" she exclaimed excitedly, smiling intensely.
"Ew, what the fuck?! No!" "Like hell is he gonna get even a sprinkle off of my cupcakes!"
Take a wild guess at who said what.
Okay, I'll give a hint. I may have been just as disdained as the pink girl.
"Why can't we all just be friends?" Sayori asked tentatively.
"Shut up!" both Nat and I screamed at her and she dropped to the floor and curled up into a ball.
Kind of fun to do when I know I can share responsibility with someone else.
"Now, now, kids. I think I'm making some valid points here. We don't want to scare off our new member, now do we?"
"You already failed at that one – I'm outta here," I stated as I reopened the door exiting the classroom.
"Hiroshi!" Sayori yelled at me.
I hesitated.
"Ugh, fine. But only because I promised one meeting. Alright, what are we doing here?" I conceded.
"Glad you asked. Here, catch," Monika said before throwing a notebook into my hands. I stumbled a little until I caught a good hold on it.
"What am I supposed to do with this?"
"Write in it, shit in it, I don't care. Point is, it's a literature club. If you're not gonna work on something of your own, then you've got to help others with theirs. Now c'mon, kids, let's get to work!"
"Got it!" the other kids replied unanimously.
Why the hell am I here? I could be relaxing on the sofa, enjoying my Thursday evening free of homework, but noooooo, I just had to open my stupid mouth and agree to Sayori.
This sucks.
"Alright, sexual deficit, show me what you got."
"Why youuuuuuu - you're the only sexual deficit here, you dick for brains, asian motherfu-" Natsuki started, but was interrupted by a loud gasp from the peanut gallery.
"...aaand let's stop before you get more racist than you already are! Thanks for participating this time in the verbal abuse olympics, please accept these consolation prizes from the Stupid Prizes for Stupid Idiots Foundation," I said as I raised up one of Natsuki's cupcakes from the table where they laid.
"I'm gonna stuff those beautiful sprinkles up your nose, you absolute disgrace to -"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP."
Both Natsuki and I's heads shot up and looked at the perpetrator who screamed those words at us.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP, I'M TIRED OF HEARING YOU TWO," Yuri screamed.
Hoooooly shit. We must've fucked up hard.
"EVERY SINGLE FUCKING DAY, I HEAR THIS SHIT, AND QUITE FRANKLY, I'M TIRED OF IT. IF IT'S NOT HIROSHI, IT'S MONIKA, AND WHEN IT'S NOT MONIKA, IT'S SAYORI, AND WHEN IT'S NOT SAYORI, IT'S GONNA BE FUCKING ME. NATSUKI, GET YOUR SORRY ASS OVER HERE AND I'LL WHIP IT, CAUSE THIS IS THE LAST DAMN STRAW YOU'VE GOT."
"W-what?! You can't- you can't just do that!" she cried.
"Yeah, we've only been arguing for like five minutes; why are you so pissed off?" I asked.
"DID I STUTTER, YOU HALF-WITTED, NEANDERTHALIC, PAPER-CHESTED BRAT? YOU PAD YOUR BREASTS, AND YOU'RE STILL BELOW AN A. THE ONLY THING THINNER THAN YOUR CHEST IS MY PATIENCE, 'CAUSE IT'S ALL FUCKING OUT."
At this moment, I started stepping away slowly.
"OH, AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ON YOU, FATASS. YOUR FACE LOOKS LIKE IT CAUGHT ON FIRE AND SOMEONE TRIED TO PUT IT OUT WITH A HAMMER. NEXT TIME YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY, RAISE YOUR FUCKING HAND."
A whine squealed out of my mouth.
Yuri took a moment to compose herself, breathing deeply.
"Now, gasp what gasp did you have gasp to say to me?" she asked. I cringed in fear.
"I-I-" I started.
"SPIT IT OUT."
"Y-yes ma'am!" I pleaded.
"SAY IT LOUDER."
"Y-YES M-MA'AM!" I was literally crying at this point.
"SAY IT TO MY FUCKING FACE. LOOK ME IN THE EYES, DAMN IT!" she yelled as she slammed her fist against the wall and a loud noise resonating throughout the room.
"Yes, ma'am. I-it won't happen again," I apologized.
She stared me hard in the eyes for a solid minute, before letting up and sitting down in her seat, her gaze once again upon her book.
"Good."
I had to run to the restroom to finish having my first panic attack of my life.
First up was Sayori. She was still a little shaken from the back-and-forth that took place just earlier (so was I), but she still managed to show me her poem.
"Dear Sunshine,
"The way you glow through-"
I stopped reading.
"Wha-what is it?" Sayori asked nervously.
"This poem…" I paused.
"...y-yes?" she asked hopefully.
"It's shit!" I chuckled as I threw her the paper.
"Hiiroshiii! Be niiiice!" she cried, giving me a pouty glare.
"Ugh, fine, lemme look at it," I said as I ripped the paper from her hands and looked at it again.
"ItmakesyoufeellikeyoumissedmekissingmyforeheadtohelpmeoutofbedmakingmerubthesleepyfrommyeyesblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahIWANTBREAKFAST and we're done. Overall, pretty solid, could use some work in the… just about everything, honestly. Would've been better if you just plagiarized some dead guy from Europe, but hey, we can't all be poets, right?"
"I thought you said you'd be nice!" she complained.
"That was me being nice. I even complimented it. Woman, I just can't win with you," I moaned before moving on to the next candidate.
…and time for this twerp.
"Alright, you strawberry-flavored gremlin shitling, what have you got for me?" I asked in a monotone.
Natsuki snapped her neck 90 degrees to the right and her eyes began bleeding endlessly.
"Ẁ̶̬́̾̐̍̊͆̌͊̍͑̓̚͝h̵̛̯͕̱̬͖͒̏͂͊̉͐͆̀̂̕͝ò̸̬͇̤͓͇͓̱͌̌̓́̓̂̍͂́͌̋͊͘͘͜͝ͅm̶̧͙̰̼̮͍̬̗̥̘͍̪̫̱̣̻̺̖̼͎̖̞̣̣̩̳͓̘͌̊̒͊́͒͂̅̌̆̇͑͗̋̈̌̐͘͜͝͝͝s̶̡̧̧̨̯̦̬̳͇͉̠̖̳͙̖̫͚͇̤͎̬̰͚̲͙͓̹̗̹͓̱͙̤͈͍̫̦͕̲̯̣̫̯̟̮̓͜ͅt̴̢̢̢̧̢̥̮͈̦̼͇̠̖̘͚̠̲̟͕̘̩̩̤̪͚͈̜̹̺̹̙̿͗̔̑̑̓͂̅̈́̋͗̽͋͌̈̽̂̔̉͗͆̈́̑̏̈̾͆̃́̀̚̕͠͝͝͝'̶̛͔̳͗̅̈́̍̋͗̾̓̎͗̑͛̂͗̀́̈́̈́͐͑̿̌̎͛͛̑͛̒͛͗́̿͋͆̿͒̂̅͋̈̊̄͘̕̚͝d̶̨̢̢͇͎̱̖̱̥͍̣̱̖̤̥̳̭̱̩͎̱̣̳͉̘͚̘̻̞̮̱̝̠̫̙̙͔͔̋̂͌͛͜͜͜'̵̢̧̡̣͉̼̲͉͇̲͔̣̟̮̝̝̩͍̝͉̰͈̥̺̪͕̬̞̼̝̅̊̋̔̅̍̀̋͌̓̃͜͠ͅv̸̢̢̡̡͉̬̭̭̟͔͙̥̗̪͇̖̰̹̖̳̪̪̟̝̪̩͓̱͈͕̗̲͓̖̟̩̗͇̠̮͈̪̪͕̩̻͇͎̞́̾̔̀͂́̂̈́̍̀̔̈́͛̓͗̓̊͌̔́̆̈́̂̌̈́͛̈́̓̍́̑̍̀̒̐̌̕̚͘͝͝͝ͅȩ̴̡̛̪̫͓͔͖̺̦̱͚̤͉̫̻͉̝̞͓͒̽̈́̈͗̿͆̃͑̔̀͒̈͌̈́̒͐̒͗̾̂̍́̋̉̄̿̅̈́̄͗͊͒̇̃̑̈́̔͂̈̎͘̚͠͝͠͠'̸̢̡̨̨̢̜͉͇̞̳̺̼̠̮̙̞̭̻̉͗̇̏̔̾̏̀͌̊̉̅̀͆̈͌͑̄͗̐̑̿͌́́̆͘̕̕͜͜͠͠͝͝͠ͅl̷̨̡̛̛̦̞͖͚̗͈̪̟̙̲͔͎̻͓̬̪͉̹͔͙͖̞̪̮̩̘̹̱̗͔̬̲̩̲͍̝̙̲̳̲͍̭̺̱͊̊̌̐̏͒̈̾̈́̏͐͌͆͗͑̀̆̍͊͒́͒͗̀̓̌̌͗͆̊̊͊̿̓͜͜͜͜͠͝͝͠ỷ̸̢̡̙̜͖̻̖̟̦̖̠͔̰͍̗̖̼̔̎͆͑̓͒͂͌̚͜͜'̶̨̢̢̫̺͚̘̘̫͓͎̟̥̠̼̖̜͍̗̰̳͚̹͓̰̝̹͔͓̹̮̘̞̣̞̦̙̣̘̺͍̤͖̦͓̻͙̿́͠ͅͅŷ̷̢̢̱͚͇̫̣̗̙̯̝̟͙̭͓͕̠͍̠͍͙͍̳̠̱͓͍̠̗̖͕̟̟̮̯͍̹͐̍̐̊̉̌̈́̃͋̅́̑̉͆̎͋̅̇̾̀̇̃̚͜ͅͅa̷̡̭̮̥̱͇̟̞̥̠͍̼̯̺̗̦̺̱̭̘̙̫̙͍͍̩̺̭͙͎͌̀̄̎̄̊͑͌̌̍͌̽̽̀͆̈̆͗̎͊͛̕͜͜͠ͅi̴̲̣̰̺̔̑͛̋̃̊̿͗͛̾̃̒̉͂̑̔͌̄́̊̃̽̀͑͑̚̕͝ͅñ̴͉̏̐̅̋̄͊̄̌͗̓̓̓͋̽̽́͂͛͆̽̿̕͘͠͝ť̶̨̢̫̗̩̥͔̻͔͈̬̦̩͈̭̘̖̯̜͕̜͍̐͌̊͒̔̽͐̈̊̔͗̓͑̍̉̽̇̀͠'̶̨̛͇͈̝̺̪͓̜̩͉̜̲͖̻̬̰̬̘̅̈́̏́͐͒̔͗́̈́͛̃̈́̂̔͆̐̈́̃̇̇̔̕̕̕n̸̡̢̡͖̟̝̭̬̠̙̪̲͙͚͔̲͍̹͖̤͕̝͚͕̬̱̲̣͎͙̭̗͙͈̭̯͚͍̰̹̐̇͋͜͜ͅͅt̴̨̢̛̛͎͙̩̰̘͗́̑̎́̄̏͒̈͆̉͛̈͌͋̒̍͗̀̔́͆͌͒͗̎̊̋̀́̀̔͊̈̈́̕̚͘̕͝͝'̸̧̢̨͓̣̭̪̗̞͕̯̖̥̟̖̻̺͕̘̗̟̹̝̯͈̼̳̣͛̂̂́̏̽͛̎̅̅̈́̍̇̋͛͊̎̒͛̃̚͘̕͠e̵̲͋̍͌́̅͛̓̓d̴̡̡̢̢̢̨̛̥̯͎̠̘̝͇͖̘͚̠͙̜̯̗͔̫̬̹̬̺̪̯̲͙̣̞̥̯̞̠̙̻̝͓̾͊̓̃̋̀͛̊̂̆̀́̄͐̓͋̈́́͐̀͗̓̎͊͐̈́̇́́́͗̀̓̎̕̕̕̕͜͜͝͠ͅ'̶̛̪̰̭̰̍͂́̋̊́̿̇̌̽̾͂́̓̿̊͊̕̚͘̚͠͝͠͝ị̸̟̤͓̭̟͔̹͖͍̰̞͚͎͖͍͎̟̠̘̫̀̑̑̽̿̏͗̀̆̏̏̀̋̿̿̈̔̊̏̍̿̃̈̔̿̃̽̓̏̆̀̈́͗̈́́̇̋̂̉̃̈́͘͝͝͠e̶̢̢̡̢̜̥̜̝̘̲̠͖̠̲̰̠̘̤͉̝̣̳͉̯̬̘͍̗̗̟̘̻͚͖̠͎̣̲̓͋̒̕͜ͅs̵̡̢̛̤͎̣̰̀̊̽̋̈̓̎͒̒́͑̈́̂̿̀̀̈́͐̀̇͌̈́͂̌̐̈̀̏̈́̿̓̈́̂͂̕̚̕͝͠͝ͅ'̵̛̣̃̈s̸̛̛̤̗̖̹̘̭̦̟̥̞̣̠͈̜̥̃̒͆̈́͊̊̇̈́̈́͋̔̌͂̐͛̔́̔̿̋̔́̐̊͐̂̄̂͐̀͒͗͑̽̕̚͘̕͠͝ͅ'̵̛̛̛̯͓̤͍̦̗̗̜͎̺̫̬̺̺͌̅̑͒͂̌̎̇̾̈́̈̎̿͑̅͒̍͛̀̍̍̏͆̀͐̋̃͋̐̓͑͑̎̑̍̄͝y̶̧̨̛̛͚̹̠͈̳̞͕͙̳͇͎͔͈̲̟̱̯̯͎͖͓̝̠̱̫̥̬̭̖̥͈̭̘̞͔̼̮͔͓̱̮̮͇̦̺̯̙͗̐̒̋̅́̋͂̆̇̈́̏͂̒̍͑̎̿̍̿̀̿̓̅̀́̎͋͆̀̎̿̈́̈̕͘̕̚̕̕͘̕͘͘͠͝͝͝ͅ'̶̧̧̠̳̗̝̘̦̺̯̱̗̠͇̘̖̼̗̯̘̘̘͙̝̺̻͓̮̭̯̱̩̰̥͙̟̬͕̫̯̝̼̿͑̇̀͂̃́̓̎̆̿͂̈̾͑̿͠ͅe̴̡̛̤͉̘͉̼̖̙̝̯͎̼͙͙͉̪͔̲͔̫̬̺̬͈̎͂͛́͆͗͌̒̑͂̿̅̒̂̎͛̽́͊̀̌͊̇̃̄͂͋̎̃̈́́̓͑̈́͆̇͂̚͜͝͝͝͝ͅͅś̶̢̨͉͕̻͍͍͍͍̘̲͔̮͍͚̠̠̭̯̘͎͇̖̪̯͎̦̫͓̩̳̞̲̹̣͙̼̻̠̤̝̺̤̠̘͑̅̈́͛͛͛̀̏̊̎̉̋͌̇́̀͗̀̑̈́̃̉̽̔͐̄̑̓̋͑̈̆̕͘̚͠͝͝ͅͅ ̸̢̧̥̯̘̜͕͓̫̬͔̩̹͍̪͔̬̘̭̰̬͔̺͔͍͇͕̐̊̇̿̿́͊̾̔͒̅͋̈́̃̀͑͆̓̒͐̓̚͝ş̸̧̧̡̨̨̡͇̼̖̬͖̖̫͉̺̫̲͈̹̹̗͍͖͈̮̠͖̪͈̙̳̝̀͛͗͌̌͗̅͌̉̈́̂̉̀̓̅̏̾͗̓͑̄̑̉́͂͜͝͝͠͝ͅͅứ̸̧̧̛̪̲̤͍̟̜̹̺̰͍̺̣̝͕̥̯̹̫̰̱͎̣̹̘͔̯͊̋̑͛͛͒̑͒͂̎̄̓̌̈́̈́̅͂̀̃̓̂́̏̌̒̀̀̒́̐͂̾̌̇̀̄̕͘͘̚̕̚͝͝͝͝ͅm̴̢̢͙̝̳̲͖̹̫͇̜̣̣̳̦̭̩͌̽̿́̽̾̑̑̈́̾͛͗̅̚̕͝͝m̵̨̢̢̢̨̨̡̧̢̛̳̰̪̪̻͔͕̝͎̪̜̲̣̹̗͎̜̪͖͇̲̼̤̥̭͎̫̪̙̫̼̏̾̄̊̇̂̈́̒͑̇̾͆̉̃̔̿̐̈͛̃͗̅̈́̓͐͂̂͘͜͜͠͝͝͝͝ͅo̸̧̢͖̩͍̰͉̯̰̰͙̲̜̣̞̤̬̳̠̗̣̫͇̦̱͇͍̮͓͓̱̥͚̫͖̝̗͓̩͎̘̱̩͙͊͊́̓́̈̋͐̓̇̍́̋̍̃̚͜͜͝͝͝ͅn̸̡̛̞͓̞̙̖͓̠̙̪̔̄̆͌͂̔͋̉͂̉̈́̈́͗͗̔̈́̋̈́͋͌̄͑́̓̊̓͛̐͑͘͘͝͝ȩ̸̹̫̪̼̖̦̭̥̤͉͔͍̫͎͇͍̩̮͍̰̩̗͔̫̱̼̿̋̋̍̑̑̊͋̅̈͒̽̉̊͐̈́͝͠͝ͅd̶̨̢̢̛̮͇͔̺̮͉̱̳̰̗̩͍̯̺̪̹͉̣̱̘̮͎̼̼̮͚̣̩̣̜͖̮̻̯͚͙̤͕̱̘̳̿͒̏̈́͗͗̌̋̉̂̈́̏̐̓̓̏̒̀̈́̇̃̈́̔̃̇͆̿̈́́̑̐́̀͘̕͜͠͝͠͝͝͝ ̶̨̡͇̳̣̞̺̠̝̦̩͓͔͈̱͎̦̬̣̼̤̼̥̫̠̪̟̮̱̠̖̟̩͎͈͉͔̼͚͕̈́̍̍͋̈́́͒̒́͌̊̊̎̀͆̌̈́̀̅̓̈́͌̿̃̈́̀̾̊̔̋͂͂͐̇̎͆̕̚͘̕͘͝͝ṫ̴̨̡͓̝͕̼̠̤̼͇̬̼̘̭͔͉̙̙̼̯̪̈́̈͌̋̓̏́̚̚̚͜͜h̷̛̪͖̤̯͉̬̱͍͖̗͑͆͗̇̋̎̏͛̈́̿̐́̑́͊̆͆̉͐͑͂̏̃͌̇́̂͆̔̊̊̆͊̉̚̕͝͠͠e̷̢̨̢͙̞̯̙̪̻͕̼̠͇̗̖̳͎̮̳̮͕̫͗̄̒ͅ ̷̢̢͎̺̫̦̼̬͚̟̰̿͑͗͜͠ǎ̴̧̧̨̡̢̧̛̟̹͎̯̹̙̜͎̣̙̭̘̙̟̦̱͍̱͕̪͎͚͉̼̘̤̜͇͚̩̞͛͑͗̀̔͌̈͗̏̀̌̾̾̍͆̈́̒̐͊͌͆̋̋̓̑̀̒̇̽̉̉̌̂́͊̄̿̈́͘͘̕͘̚͜͜͠͠ͅl̵̛̦̈́́̐̄̉̈́̓̇͂̑́͑͒̋̐̾̒́́͌̽̉͊̀̓̕͝m̴̢̧̧̼͔̼͔̦̻̮̟̰̖̺̣̱̪͙̺̉͋̇̐̈́͊̇̐́́͒̓́͆̉̏͆̉̀̓̍̔̒̈́͒́̀͘̕͝͠ȋ̷̢̡̡̛͎̱̩͈̮͓̯͙̘̙̬̩̞͔̩̭̬̻͙̳̼͙̹̲̯͇͉̟͖̲̟̥͇̉̎́͊̈͂͗͛͊̏̓͐͑̀̀́̆̆̇͐̐̏͑̉͂̾̄̌͗͘̚͘̕͠͝͝g̸̡̢̢̨̛̯̼͈̻͓͔̤͎͈̟̥̫̟̙͖̰̰̤͍̦͈̬̞̠̥͚̱͍̜̣̮̜̝͛͆͛͑̽͘͜͜ͅh̶̢̡̡̛̛̙̖͔̯̱̺̤̪͓̘̳͉͉̯̘͖̭̱͙̥̜̣͋̎̄̇̔̅̽̈̓̂̎͛̐̒̅͑̏̇̽͒̈́̉̇̐̒̄̽̾́̈́̒̾̔͊̈͌̈͗̂̕͜͠͝t̶̛͖̗̫̪̂̆̉̃̍̽̄̋͒͋̚̕͘͝͝y̸̢̡̦̬̰͎̪̗̙͎̝̺̘̳̖͚̭͖̟̱͓͙̮̰͇̞̘̫̳͇͕̘̘̖͈̝͈̖̫̟͍̥̺͖̻̹͕̟̋̅̂͋ͅ ̴̨̨̛̟̗̞̙͙͈̥͔̯̖̘̪̰̞͍̫̝͈͕̟͈̪̜̭̖͎̞͈̣̋͌̽̊͒̆̓̍̋̔̈́͑̉͂̐̆̉͒͑̎̔̄͊͆̉͆̋̔̀͌͌̐͂̿̊̀́̆̿̽̀͆̽̆̚͘͘͜õ̸̡̢̢̗̦͎̺̗̟̺͍̞̻̮̙̭͙̤̫͖̪̭͕̦̥͚̜̱̳̙̲͚͕̠͉̮̜̹̙̳͖̻̞̞̱̲̭͔͋͐̾ͅņ̴̧̬̦̖̥̳̖̗̥̬̹̗̱͖͑̍̓͌̓̐̋̾̇́͌͐̅͂͒̀͌̾͑̓̔̌̋̐̌̍͊͒̀̃̑́͛̑͒͗̍̉̽̔̚̕̕̚͜͝͝͝͠e̵̢̡̡̡̢̧͇̰͙̗͈̥̦͙̺͖̺͈͙̗͈̭͈͙̲̦̪̹̫̩̬̳͍͉̗̗̮̹̦͕̤͍̹̜̳͛̍̄̓͜͝ͅ?̸̧̡̨̛̰̲̥͍̝̹͈̞͔͇̙͖̤̞͎̦̰̺̰̻̙̜͛͊̿͌̌̀̀̃̋̑͌͊͜͝͝"
"Huh. Well that's new. Hey, Monika? I think you accidentally summoned another demon."
"Oh, Natsuki? Other than the angle and positioning of her neck to the spinal cord, she's acting pretty normal. Just ignore it – works for me." Monika did not appear very concerned.
"U-uhm, Natsuki? Do you need to go to the nurse's office? I d-don't think that's healthy," Yuri noted quietly. Yeah, no shit, sherlock.
"I think Nat just needs a band-aid!" Sayori giggled.
"Ehhh, she's fine. Not too much of a deviation from the usual. Back to work, peoples! I, er, we need those poems to save the club. We're presenting them at the fair next week to prove we're an actual sovereign group and not just some gangsters banding together to overthrow the school's educational hierarchy and political structure."
"What the hell? Is that even a thing?" I asked.
"Yeah, and if you own a club with five people or more in it, you get a tax break!" Monika said, smiling.
Oh. So her motives were less than savory. My expression grew neutral.
"Uh, what's a 'tax'?" Sayori questioned, confused. Is everyone just growing more and more retarded as I continue to write this stupid-ass fanfiction?
"Hey, I'm supposed to be the one breaking the fourth wall!" Monika whined.
"Uh, what's a 'wall'?" Sayori questioned.
My mouth creased further in a straight line. Holy fuck I want to kill myself. Wait, isn't that Sayori's job?
"Well, things could have gone worse. Yuri could be a sadistic and masochistic maniac and Sayori could be a suicidal dweeb, and I could be an obsessive girlfriend!" Monika cheerfully declared.
"Who the fuck would want to date you?" I asked, my eyes narrowing.
"Oh, tons of people! Have you searched up my name on Google recently? It takes, like, five seconds to find nudes," she, once again inappropriately cheerfully, said.
"You post nudes?!" A better question is: Why am I typing this fanfiction on a school computer?
"Of course not, silly. The community draws that shit for me!"
And at that point I decided to end it all. I pushed over Yuri and took the knife from her pocket (yes, she always carries one), and stabbed myself in the throat.
Unfortunately, nothing happened, because otherwise I wouldn't be able to write this.
"Better nate than lever!" Sayori cried happily.
"Fuck it! I tried! You all saw me!"
And after that, all I saw was black.