Authors Notes: Apologies for the shortness of this chapter. I have been stuck with a blank draft for what was intended to be a longer chapter, but decided to merge the two planned chapters I had in mind (which was Natsuki baking with Kazuma plus the morning of the festival), but I decided to just merge the two and get it out of the way so I can focus on the original part of this story, unrelated to the existing DDLC canon. Hope you enjoy, and stay tuned for the next chapter. Things are gonna get interesting.

...

You have unlocked a new poem. Would you like to read it?

YES. NO.

YES. NO.

I'm Sorry

I let all of you down. I've been nothing but a burden to the club, to my friends, to my family, to life itself. You can't imagine the endless pain I go through every day, knowing how truly worthless I am. A failure to society, to my school, to my loved ones. The crushing feeling that no matter how hard you try or what you do in life, you will never truly mean anything to anyone.

I just can't take it anymore.

Monika, I'm sorry I've let you down as a vice-president and as a friend. You must feel so ashamed to know me, but I hope this act will free you in some way.

Yuri, you're one of the most smartest people I've ever met. Even if I didn't understand your words sometimes, I still love hearing you talk. I know your gonna be a really good writer one day. I just wish I could be around to read them

Natsuki, you've always been such a sweet and nice person to me, and thank you for always making me treats (which are some of the best I've ever had). Thanks for being my best friend.

Kazuma, you've always been my dearest friend and I thank you forever for that.

I'm sorry for always holding you back and stressing you out over keeping me happy. Thank you for everything.

Mom and Dad, you don't have to worry about me anymore. You can live your lives on happy and not spend every aching minute stressing out over your damaged, awful daughter.

It's okay. You don't have to worry about me anymore. Finally the sunshine will make the rain clouds go away. Thank you all for everything you did for me, but I'm giving up.

Love, Sayori Asoka

…

The bright chorus of the native white-eye birds fills the damp, morning air. Dew clings to my window, rolling down the window pane in parallel lines and pooling up in little puddles on my windowsill. Soft orchestral music plays from my phone, still hooked up to its charger on my desk. I stare into my bathroom mirror, adjusting my hair with a comb ever so slightly. Last night, I had stayed up cleaning and ironing my uniform out to make sure it was absolutely perfect and ready for the day.

It's Monday, the morning of the festival.

Monika had texted to the group chat earlier that she was already at the school helping out the student council with their preparations for everyone's booths. She had specifically requested that each of us show up on time this morning and come to the foyer to assist (mentioning she already had us four excused for first period).

It was 7:19am.

My playlist shuffles, switching to a slightly cheery piano tune. I listen, busying myself with brushing my teeth.

My mind swirls with the still-fresh memories of yesterday. Natsuki had came over as expected and we had spent almost the entire day together, laughing and experimenting with baking and enjoying each other's presence.

...

The kitchen is a mess of dirty bowls, spilled flour and plastic bags filled with colorful frosting. In one corner sits a gigantic pink binder full of Natsuki's homemade recipes, the binder opened up to a random page of her 'cupcake' section. The small mixer that Natsuki had brought in her duffle bag sits plugged up next to it. The mixer wasn't big enough to mix all of the batter at once, so we've had to do it several times over.

Natsuki stands next to me, leaning over to get a full view of my work. A gigantic bowl filled with the main batch of cupcake batter lays before me, along with a few smaller bowls.

Natsuki points at the bowl.

"Okay, now take the batter and start pouring them into the bowls."

Obediently, I set out the five bowls next to each other. I carefully grab the main batter bowl with both hands and slowly pour an even amount of batter into them.

"Good. Now put a few drops of coloring into them."

I quickly take one of the bottles of food coloring and squirt a few drops into the batter. I repeat the process for the other four bottles.

"Now whisk it."

I grab the whisk and start to swirl the batter around. I watch as the color swirl with the pale battering, slowly turning into the intended color.

Natsuki pauses.

"Alright. Let's move onto the icing."

Natsuki turns to face the counter behind us, where all of the icing supplies are sitting. Another set of bowls awaits, with various icings already poured inside. She walks up to the counter and grabs the whisker, hands it to me.

"Okay, now start to whisk it."

Natsuki watches me whisk the icing for about twenty seconds, soaking in my every movement. I feel like I'm being interrogated for murder.

She frowns at me, and I feel a icy heat crawl up my neck. I definitely messed up somehow. She clears her throat.

"Um, why are you doing it like that?"

I pause. "Like...what?" I respond, hesitantly.

She gives me a look.

"Why are you doing it so slow? I'll be here all night if you do it at that pace!"

I feel a hot wave of embarrassment. "S-sorry, I just, ah…" I stutter, lost for a response. Natsuki scoffs, and makes a motion for me to move aside. I do so.

"Kazuma, you can't be so gentle with it." She picks up the bowl I was whisking and grabs the whisk. "You gotta…" with ferocity, she starts to aggressively whisk the icing, "really beat the shit out of it! Just beat it until it's down to a soup." She continues to literally beat it, an feverishly focused look on her face.

I take a step back, anticipating disaster. Speckles of icing start to dot her apron. "Natsuki, you might want to…"

Without warning, the bowl slips from her hand in an almost comical fashion. Natsuki yelps as the bowl flies in the air and dumps the entirety of its contents onto me. My face, neck and apron are coated in the half-beaten blue icing.

For a second, the two of us stand in silent shock. Natsuki's hands cover her face, red with embarrassment. Her voice cracks, "Kazuma, I-"

Slowly, I lift my finger up and scoop some of the icing from my face and bring it to my mouth. The most amazingly sweet and delectable flavors dance in my mouth.

"Well, at least it tastes good."

Natsuki sputters, and breaks out into a shaky laughter. She covers her mouth with her hands, trying to stop herself. I join in on the laughter, slowly wiping away the icing with my hands.

"Sh-shut up, dummy ahaha!"

...

After I got cleaned up (it took me two showers to get the smell of blueberry icing out of my hair), we finished up with the baking and put the trays in the oven to cook. Natsuki seemed especially proud of my work overall, which made me especially happy.

When the cupcakes were finished, I helped her with the actual decorating. The idea she has was to spell out a word onto each cupcake with icing, so each guest can find a word they like and choose a cupcake based on that. After about a half hour, we had around fifty perfect, cute little cupcakes packed up in plastic containers and ready for tomorrow.

After that, we sort of lazed around up in my room, not sure of what to do next. As Natsuki told me, there exists an anime adaptation of The Parfait Girls (which I was immediately curious to see). I ordered us a pizza to split (with Natsuki ending up eating more of it than I did) and for the rest of the night, we just laid out on my bed and watched the first season, with promises to finish it later on someday.

When it started getting dark, her dad came by and picked her up, and that ended the night.

It was so...pleasant. Just being around her, listening to her animatedly talk about how loyal the Parfait Girls anime was to the source material. We talked about school, about the literature club, about our plans for the winter break (we made plans to hang out again like this sometime during) and about our favorite mangas.

'I wonder what she's doing right now?' I think to myself. Probably getting ready for her day, I imagine. She had asked me to keep the cupcake containers at my house overnight (which seemed unusual to do, but I went along with it anyway).

Maybe I should text her…

My alarm interrupts my phone's playlist, meaning it's time to call Sayori to wake her up. I unplug my phone from it's charger, dial Sayori's number and hold my phone to my ear.

…thirty seconds of ringing follows...

I end the call and redial.

This time, the call immediately hangs up.

I frown, and open up my messaging app. I tap Sayori's icon and start to type. "Coming over". I hit send and shove my phone back into my pocket. I head downstairs, grab my keys and head out the door.

In a few minutes, I approach Sayori's house. I open the gate and walk up to the door. I knock, and there's a pause.

I hear a rattle of locks, and the door quickly opens up. A burly-looking figure greets me. Barrel-chested with light stubble and neatly combed hair. The man is wearing a pale white (starch bleached) dress shirt, neatly tucked into his black slacks. A thick red tie hangs across his neck, unfinished.

He gives me a seedy glance, looking me up and down. "Can I help you?"

It's Sayori's father, Mr. Asoka.

I shift a little. Even years later, he's still as intimidating as when I was a kid. He usually was the one to oversee Sayori and I's 'playdates', and he always seemed a little more watchful of me than Sayori, making sure that I didn't do anything to embarrass or hurt her daughter.

"Ah, hello, Mr. Asoka-"

"Who are you?"

"K-Kazuma. Sayori's friend? From down the street?"

He smiles a little, but still gives me an off-putting stare (how he did that, I have no idea). "Ah. Come in." He moves aside for me to enter. I quickly step inside.

Mr. Asoka shuts the door behind me and locks it. I stand awkwardly in the living room, as he moves into the kitchen. He clears his throat. "You're here to walk her to school again?"

"Ah, yes. I called her this morning but she, uh, didn't pick up her phone."

"Hm." He opens the fridge and pulls out what looks like a coffee cake, resting on a plate. "Well,she's probably still asleep. You can go ahead and wake her up, or you could just wait down here for her, if you'd like."

In my head, I already know what option I'm gonna pick.

"I'll think I'll just, uh, go wake her up. We need to be at school early today for the festival, anyway." He nods. "Ah, right." He turns away from me, opening up the cupboard to reach for a glass.

I start to walk up the staircase to Sayori's room. Various photos of Sayori and her family, her wide smile adoring them all, decorate the walls. The photos are all very candid, set out in a picnic or a park or a zoo or wherever.

In almost all of the photos featuring a young Sayori, I recognize my younger self with her.

I slowly approach her bedroom door.

"...Sayori?" I tap my knuckle on the door.

No response.

I try again, a little harder. "Sayori, it's me. Kazuma."

I hear a light, surprised squeak, but it sounded almost constricted. No mistaking it was Sayori.

"S-Sayori? Are you okay?" I say, worry creeping up my spine.

I jiggle the doorknob. Locked.

A low, gurgling sound emanates from Sayori's room, painful and drawn out. A sound no human should naturally make.

I feel myself start to panic. I knock on the door again, jiggling the doorknob. "Sayori?" I repeat, fear taking hold of me. What's going on?

Downstairs, I hear Mr. Asoka call out, his voice still intimidating me. "Everything okay?" Fear locks in my voice, unable to speak. Primordial panic takes over my body, my heart and my thoughts.

I start to slam up against the door, trying to break it down. My hands are shaking, clenched into fists as my body rocks the door. The doorknob jiggles, the lock staying in place.

"What the fuck is going on up there? Sayori?" Mr. Asoka bellows. I hear footsteps booming downstairs, starting their way up the stairs.

Though muffled, I can hear ragged, quick gasps of air. From beyond the door, a choked voice, Sayoris.

"N..no!"

With all my strength, I burst down the door. The hinges creak as the door pops open, swinging into the dresser with a loud wham! I stand in the doorframe.

I can't comprehend what my eyes behold me.

Hanging from a thick, frayed rope is Sayori, her head tilted at an unnatural angle, the rope dangling her precariously in the air. Her chest is half-exposed, her nightgown unbuttoned slightly and drooping off her shoulder. A desk chair is knocked over underneath her bare feet, flinging aimlessly in space. Her eyes are cloudy and bleak, the blues I know washed out.

Desperately she claws at the rope around her neck. Blood oozes from her hands and dribbles down her arms, little droplets staining her shirt. Sunlight streamed in through her open window and reflected on her body. It gave her an angelic glow, but for all the horrifically wrong reasons.

Her eyes bulge out in horror and fear of my presence. A limp arm reaches out to me.

She attempts to speak.

"K-kzzm..hel…"

Her eyes flutter closed.