Rain drizzled down in random sheets, gently spilling down the curved bells of the black umbrellas that crowded in this tiny space of grass. The gloomy storm clouds silently swirled in the air, but threatened to bring more down.

I could feel everything. The way my hand gripped against the rough plastic of my handle, the way my ill-fitted suit clung to my shirt, the sweat dripping down my spine to my legs. HOw much these damn dress shoes hurt. Everything and nothing was aware right now, as my mind spun in cruise control. I struggled to fight back tears once again.

"Sayori's life will forever echo as one of joy and compassion. Since she was a toddler she spent her days bubbly with laughter, working to keep a wide smile upon everyone she came across. Yet, we failed her. We could never make her feel the same way." The pastor droned on, my mind barely registering his words.

Soon came the viewing of the deceased. I stood behind Mr. and Mrs. Asoka.

I lurched forward, my whole body feeling stiff from the weeks of sleepless nights, the crying, the clutching of a knife to my wrist but lacking the energy to pull.

She was so beautiful, even in death. The makeup that brought out the rosy pink that always flushed her cheeks, how her coral pink hair matched so perfectly with that velvet red ribbon. Her dress was an elegant white, done in a knitted style with a sunflower pin tucked at her chest. A bouquet of flowers laid at her stomach, her gentle fingers tucked to hold-

Her eyes snapped open.

Apair of snake eyes drowning in bl̴a̸c̸k̵̷s̷t̸a̵r̶e̷d̸ ̸a̶t̶ ̶m̵e̴.̵ ̷

Ș̴̨̼̏͊̓̐A̵̬͆̚Y̶̤̤͌̎̒̈Ȏ̴̧͙̭͌̿͘R̵̦̭̓̀I̷̻͔̹͌̚A̸̡͇̣̱͊́͝Ş̸̟̮̾͋̀͊ͅO̴̗̮̭̪̍̎K̷̺͓͙̿Ȧ̸̠̪̬S̴̤̗̈́̈́̕A̴̠̓̈́̏͘Ỳ̵̨̳̄̃̅O̶͙̓͒̐Ȑ̸̥͇̃̐́Ỉ̵̻̍́Ặ̵S̴̫̗͙͈̍̾Ò̵̩̺̝̽̅̉Ḱ̴̰̬̱̕A̷̖̒̍́Ş̷̄̊͝A̶̡͎̼͌Y̴͖̽O̵̮͓̗̎ͅR̶̖̠͊͝Ĩ̶̥̺̬̭̂Á̶̙̏Ś̷̛̛̱̱̩͈O̸͍͈̲̩͋͗͋K̷̩͕̭͌̌Ạ̷̛͇͇̬̒̌̽

̷̨̛̜̳͌̿Ȉ̸̛̪̘͗͜M̴̰̐́S̶̞̝̭͐Ö̶͙́͗̈S̶̢̤̪͚̓̌O̸͕̣͆̂̋̌R̶͈͆̊R̴͚̀͐Y̶̡̹̜̓̏̌I̵̫̍M̷̺̥̗͂S̴̲͛̀̉̋O̴͓̥͕͝S̶̥̹̐̍O̷͔̯̤̰̐͛̔R̷̡̻̽̆̎̓R̸̞̐Y̴̠͗͠Į̴̙͚̐̔̈́M̵̤̲̯͆̕S̶͔̼̲̃Ŏ̶̩̥̠́S̸͎͖͍̚͝Ő̶̤͙̘̬̽͋R̴͍͌̔̈̑R̸̺̀͊͠Y̷̭̠͉͓̅͊̽̈́

̴͓͎͉̖̅

̵̨͔͎͗̆ͅF̵̻̔̀̋̆Ọ̶̮̀̇̚R̴͔̮̍G̵͍̑̓̐̌I̴̧͈̬̓̈͜V̶͕̿͗̆́Ḛ̸͕̓̉ ̸̧̲͖̿͐M̵̝̿̍̾̊E̷̲͎̒͐̌ ̵̨̦́̂̿̐F̸̧͖̞̰̂O̷̜͋R̶̨̈́̃G̷̣͔̰͖͊̀͘I̵̙͌̾V̵̜̬̙̿Ĕ̴̙̩̠̦͌͠ ̵͍̃̆͘͝ͅM̸̜͚̒̉̒̔Ę̶̘̯̫̓̀͂ ̴̪̟̃̽̀̚F̷͋͌͌̚͜O̵͆͆͜Ṟ̶͚̙͇̑́͝͠G̴̛̙̏͑̀I̵̙̓̊͝V̶̱̅̉͊ͅE̴̡̜̦͉̐́̈́͋ ̶̯̘͚͝M̶͎̠̐͐E̷̥̍͊

̵̭͍̀̈́̑́

̵̱̚S̸̛̗͈͕̹̀̚͠Ạ̷͋̊̉͋Y̶͕̤̊͛̿Ò̵͎̽R̶̘͙̽̈̊̀Ḭ̷̺͚̘̓̄̔̅

I snapped awake, gasping for air. The lights in my room were off, only the warm glow of a street lamp leaking in from my window. Through blurry vision, I caught the time; 2:17am.

I propped myself up and felt a crunching pain in my side. Slept on the wrong side again.

I took a gulp of air in and swung myself upright, taking a moment to pop my neck. I glanced down at my nightstand and snatched the bottle of water I always kept there, and drained its contents. I licked at my teeth, tasting like shit.

With that nightmare still fresh in my mind, I reflected.

It has been almost six months since her...attempt. Sayori had been making good progress with her therapy appointments. Doctor Yang was an especially considerate man, as I got to know from attending some sessions by her side, our hands clenched together. Yes, I cried. At times. No shame in crying, of course. A lot of things that needed to be said were said. Sayori's medication, some sort of antidepressant and mind boost to her attentiveness, were showing good signs. She of course was the same old Sayori, but certain aspects of her personality felt...restrained. This of course was natural, what with taking mind-changing drugs and all, but it wasn't something that she liked. At the next appointment she and her parents would bring it up to Doctor Yang.

But, nevertheless, improvements were underway. Her marks were skyrocketing, attendance was near perfect, and her teachers were beginning to take notice. Her writing seemed to shift in a sense, from more bubbly and lighthearted to more serious and even thought-provoking (coming from Sayori this was something). She never wrote about her attempt directly, but rather made analogies. The thought itself was just too...painful.

If one "good" thing came out from any of this, it was the solidifying of our status as best friends, just like in our childhood. Our parents were ecstatic of course, getting to host their former get togethers and dinner parties and outings and the likes, something they last did when we were in middle school. It felt like old times; she practically came over to hang out every other weekend. Watching movies and playing PS4 and going out on friend dates to the mall or theme parks. For the first time in a long while, I finally felt...at peace.

I grabbed my phone and opened up my messages, scrolled to our tab.

Are ya up stupid

Sent.

I smirked.

I propped my window open and poked my head outside. At this hour, the streets were dead quiet, if only for the sound of lonesome street cats, meowing quietly to an audience of none. It was so quiet, you could hear the buzzing of the fluorescent lights in the streetlamps. It was still quite dark out, the sun not let brightening up the sky.

Staring across to Sayori's room, her house was dark, windows drawn down. No activity to speak of.

I shook my head. Ach, probably shouldn't be trying to wake her. No sense stirring her at this hour.

I turned to look at my desk. It was about my height, done in cherrywood color and has built in bookshelves stuffed with textbooks I didn't even use. A simple grey laptop rested, next to some scratch paper and a box of pens. Candy wrappers littered nearby, with a very graffitied-up calendar hanging down.

I sat down at my desk and flicked on my lamp. Light glowed against the board I had put up against the wall, in this small space.

Lots of photos were tacked on, a sort of scrapbook I had created weeks ago, with help of my new best friends, the Doki Doki Literature Club. There were a lot of different things; Monika and myself's "road trip" to Taito City to pick up some new banners for the club. A return trip to that bookstore I first met Yuri at to discuss Subject DX, one of her new horror thrills. A day at the mall with Sayori. A field day to the Tokyo Zoo for some...creative insight (andYuriwantedtorideanelephantuntilshewasinformedtheydontdothatanymore).

Natsuki Tamura, the love of my life, had her own section of the board.

A pic Sayori took of me bridal-carrying Natsuki up the stage for karaoke, one duet and one romantic serenade that brought down the house. One of those cheesy photo booths with four mini snaps on it. A on-in-a-million snap of Natsuki getting her hair gnawed on by a friendly giraffe (Monika had a theory that the giraffe thought it was cotton candy, which only pissed Natsuki off even more).

My eyes fell upon that candid pose, of my baby girl swatting away a giraffe like a common house fly (Jeremy, as he was named, didn't take very kindly and spit up half-digested carrots at her).

I suspected something was just...off...about Natsuki's home life.

I have my suspicions, but it's not like I can act on them. Nor can I ask, even if I'm her boyfriend and all.

Natsuki vehemently says I can't meet her dad, at least not yet. Would blow any boys head off with the shotgun he keeps under his bed. Didn't like her last "boyfriend" (which she insisted was some middle school crush and not a real thing but I didn't mind, I mean...Sailor Jupiter was MY middle school crush, so). Always had work to do and never would see him anyway, works late into the night and all. It was either this or that or the other thing. I had only seen a few older pics of her dad, with a younger Natsuki bouncing on his shoulder with pigtails and a blue duckie dress and a pouty frown on her face.

Nothing from this decade. For a while, I thought nothing really of these things. They all seemed so logical.

Then I started noticing bruises on her.

"Baby...what happened?"

I hadn't heard from her in a few days, and she had been absent from the most recent Literature Club meetings. Nobody had been able to reach her, and her activity laid dormant. Only this morning did she text the main group chat, saying she was out of town unexpectedly and that she would be back in class today.

We made a promise to meet up just before the club meeting today.

I didn't notice it when we first embraced, but when we pulled away I almost gasped out loud. Although the concealer did some magic, there was a flush shade of purple, yellow and green ringing around my love's right eye. The flesh was slightly puffy, but the major swelling had subsided. Her actual irises showed light red tinting, a sign of crying, but I didn't pick up on that at the time.

"Oh I um...haha, it's kind of silly, really." She said. Her tone of voice shifted, in a way I wasn't really familiar.

I took her hand and kissed it. "Tell me."

"Hmph." She turned a cheek. "No."

I cozied up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist. I kissed her neck.

"Tell meee…"

"N-noo…"

"Hmmm…"

I leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek, just below the bruise but not directly on it.

"Please?"

She scoffed. "Cheaaaap, cheeeap move."

...

"I just uh, ran into a door."

I paused. "Ran into a door huh?"

"Yeah, this fucking car. It just, well I wasn't looking anyway and the guy swung his door open and I was close to the curb. It was the mirror, not the door itself."

"They make cars this short?" I said, lowering my hand to her neck.

"Mmmm…" Natsuki placed a pondering finger on her cheek, and quickly swung a punch into my arm. I reeled back in genuine pain; when she wants to, Natsuki can pack a punch.

"Owww…!"

She started laughing. "Dummy mode onnnn."

"Christ, that actually hurt, ya know." I said, rubbing my arm gingerly.

She leaped up and pecked a kiss on my cheek. "Did that help some?" she said with a grin.

I chuckled. "A little."

My finger rubbed against the film of the Polaroid pic.

Whatever is truly going on, I know I'll always be there at her side.

Always.