What had been done a week ago will stain the pages of human history, like blood in the carpet. The most innocent of us dying senselessly? At the hands of another human being no less? It was enough to burn the whole book and start again. And you would believe it to be true, especially if you heard the aftermath. The screams of recently childless parents would make even demons huddle up in fear.

Monika hunched over the gravestone, still and unmoving. You know, crying and laughing is actually pretty similar in a way. Especially at the extremes. A funny joke compared to losing a pet- there's no comparing. A two year old can tell the difference. But when you feel something from the very bottom of your soul, you clutch at your stomach and gasp for air without worrying about what other people are thinking. And in truth, if you really listened, her 'cries' were both. A genuine cry of agonizing loneliness, combined with the satisfaction of the loneliness she had inflicted on other people.

"...it wasn't your fault."

Her ironclad grip on the bouquet of flowers tightened. "I...I-I could've stopped them- w-why didn't I-"

"Stop."

"W-Why didn't I stop them..."

"I SAID STOP!," MC yelled, roughly shaking Monika's shoulders. "WHAT THE HELL WOULD YOU HAVE DONE?! THE POLICE WERE ALREADY ON THEIR WAY!"

"I...I could've-"

"NO! Monika, okay?! No! Walked up to them and got shot- that was what you could've done! It wasn't your fault!"

She swallowed her tears. "Oh...MC...how can you even say that?," Monika sighed. "You lost your nephew because of me. Doesn't that bother you?!"

It was like he- his small, innocent soul, rose up from the headstone and touched him on the shoulder. He spoke in a foreign tongue not of this world. Whispering in an understanding tone in MC's ear. "You better cut it out. It wasn't because of you. The people who did this are dead."

He embraced her and she felt as if the world was worth fighting for. And if she couldn't live her life like this- locked in her lover's embrace until they die, then ten seconds would suffice. Ten seconds of peace and warmth and love and happiness, that would go by too quickly. Hell, what was another four-hundred more children. She would gladly do it all over again, just for this moment.

"Is this what it took?," Monika thought. "Worth it. Definitely. Worth it. I'm not alone. Oh God, MC. I'm not alone, I'm not alone. You're here. You're here for me. Life isn't meaningless. Your love means the world to me. I'll never leave you. I love you. Forever and ever."

In the meanwhile, there were people who stayed back at school. About a hundred or so. Police officers, forensics and news reporters. Death would judge all of them as it walked in through the gates. It passed by a row of shell-shocked policemen and women, no doubt having seen the aftermath of the shooting and decided to distance themselves. There was no shame in that. They could never have imagined what they read in the history books to be this bloody. They could never imagine one of the faces in the sea of corpses to be that of someone they knew. Or loved.

As it walked- floated more like, across the football field and across the playgrounds, it saw the same shell-shock on news reporters. They had done well to maintain a professional composure, although there was no hiding their pupils narrowed to a tiny dot. And the way they moved their arms like they had to tell them to instead of it being subconscious, because they were frozen still. Their whole bodies were. They were deer in headlights.

It thought it would find Sayori here, idly swaying on a swing. Her hands gripping the chains and her face downcast like it was some opening to a low-budget horror movie. But no, instead it found her at ground zero. At the front, the hall had a metre high elevated floor where piano recitals and dances would be performed. Sayori and Natsuki sat at the edge, watching as men and women in white did their jobs. Cleaning and taking pictures and cataloging; although it seemed as if they knew there really was no point, and was merely doing so out of habit. Those yellow numbered evidence markers? Yeah, they were going to run out of those.

Strange, Death thought. Sayori would be the last person to willingly be here.

"Why?," Natsuki breathed, her gaze fixated on the pile of little shoes and clothing in the corner. Oh God, not again. A single thought threatened to send her bawling uncontrollably again, and she quickly lit up another cigarette. This was her tenth one and it did little to numb- no, distract her from the pain like it always did.

But Sayori was there to pluck the cancer stick from her mouth and throw it away. "You shouldn't smoke, Natsuki," she said in a low voice. God, it was creepy the way she said it. Calm and collected whilst acknowledging the situation for what it was. "It's bad for your health."

"What a cliche...!," she cry-laughed.

"..."

"Well?"

Sayori looked at her. "Well what?"

"Well!...Say something! Y-You asshole!"

"What...?"

"Say what you're thinking about! God, you can be dense sometimes..."

Natsuki waited for Sayori to gather her thoughts, every second that goes by a second spent in mourning. Unlike the pink-haired officer next to her, Sayori seemed far more composed than her. She was used to duking it out with sadness. Maybe it was her clinical experience. What little there was of it. Maybe it was the extensive shelves of books she read. Maybe it was her depression. She knew, that at some point at some time? She had fantasized about this occurring, except she was the one behind the gun.

After all, depression can lead to suicide. And if her problems weren't caused by her? Bloody, vengeful, murderous, nihilistic suicide- something she never wanted to admit was true.

Before Sayori could speak however, Natsuki couldn't hold it in. "And you don't have to be so quiet like that Sayori!," she yelled, baring her teeth. "Kick, scream, yell- just...just remind me you're not a cold bitch and-"

Tears splashed onto the wooden floor a metre below as if Sayori was crying on behalf of humanity. It was the most mournful, innocent sound Natsuki had ever heard in her life- and she too couldn't stop the tears bursting out like it were an overflowing dam. God, it echoed. A couple of the cleaners had to take off their goggles to wipe away their own tears.

"...I'm sorry," Natsuki sobbed into her friend's shoulder. "I...I talk too much. I-I just don't want it to be real."

Sayori smiled. "It's okay. I want you to talk. I don't want you to be in pain."

"Sayori...it's real...isn't it? This really happened?"

"Yes. Yes it did, and I don't know what to make of it."

"D-Do we have to? Why can't we just leave?! What happened, happened! The ones who did this killed themselves! There's no revenge, no justice, no nothing Sayori! What sort of sick joke is this?!"

Sayori pulled the sleeve of her hoodie and gently wiped Natsuki's tears away. But it came back with a vengeance the moment she stared deep into Sayori's mournful but hopeful eyes.

"Y-You were d-depressed right? In DDLC?," Natsuki got out with a shaky breath. "I-Is that it? Is that why you're so calm? B-Because you're used to s-sadness?"

Sayori shook her head. "No. I could never get used to it," she admitted. "Most days, I would wake up miserable. For no apparent reason. I ate right, I slept right, I had you guys and yet...it wouldn't go away."

"...even today...?"

"Only sometimes. Sometimes it made me hate myself to the point where I didn't want to exist anymore. And sometimes it made me hate reality. For cursing me with such a conundrum. It made me hate everyone else. Those who were free and happy."

Natsuki nodded.

"I...hate to say it. Including children, most of all. The happiest out of all of us. I told myself it was unfair- even as a kid I was depressed. Why? What kind of life had I been deprived of? But I even started to hate the fact that I was hating others. That was unfair as well. The kids did nothing wrong. If these kids could lead a pretty good life and find happiness, then that was good enough for me."

"But you found happiness didn't you?!," Natsuki blurted out. "Here? Away from DDLC?"

"Right. I was thinking back then...why me? Why did these kids have to die and not me? Their lives had barely begun and it was snuffed out in the blink of an eye."

"..."

"And I was just telling myself. The memories that they made with their parents...the impact they left behind...their names...it will all be treasured because of it. And I was telling myself it wasn't better if they had never existed at all, to spare everyone the pain."

By this time, the lights in the hall buzzed on and floodlights engulfed the school grounds so that the police could work late into the night. The leads they had being: the identities of the killers and the weapons they left behind. And the more they followed the red string, the deeper into the rabbit hole they would go. Willingly, mind you. All to acquire some semblance of justice for the victims, including and especially for the parents.

A policeman busted through the double doors in a panic. "Boss!," he yelled, and Natsuki shot up. "We don't know what to make of this!"