Author's note:
Wow, 424 views! That's incredible for a smaller fandom community. Thank you all so much for reading and leaving feedback. It truly means a lot to see people enjoying the story.
Heads up! I made some edits to Chapter 2 to improve the flow. You might not catch all the changes at first, but I hope they enhance your reading experience.
This chapter delves deeper into our protagonist's journey of self-discovery, focusing on their blossoming friendships with each of the girls. Buckle up, because I'm still exploring the narrative as I write, and it's going to be a wild ride!
Originally, I planned for this chapter to be much longer, pushing 20k words. However, for better pacing, I decided to split it into three parts (3, 3.1, and 3.2) – each around 10k words. Here's the reasoning: Chapter 3 focuses entirely on the protagonist building these new relationships with the girls, while Chapter 4 tackles a different plot point. Splitting Chapter 3 helps maintain the flow of both chapters.
Let me know your thoughts in a review! It seriously makes my day and helps me feel like I'm not writing into the void. See you in the comments! Enjoy!
Chapter 3: Cactus in the Valley
The earsplitting shriek of the alarm ripped me from a fitful sleep.
My hand, propelled by pure instinct, slammed down on the offending clock, silencing it with a dull thud. Sunlight, warm and golden like spilled honey, streamed through the window, chasing away the remnants of dreams and replacing them with harsh reality.
Blinking away the last vestiges of sleep, I took in the familiar yet alien surroundings.
It wasn't a dream...
Yesterday's events—the bizarre, anime-like world I'd stumbled into straight out of a visual novel—were real.
There was a palpable realness to everything, a texture and presence that resonated with all my senses. Where the game had been a hollow echo, this place was a symphony of existence.
The girls—Natsuki, Yuri, Sayori—and even the main character, Takashi, mirrored their in-game personas while possessing a genuine depth, a spark of independent life.
The anxieties from yesterday gnawed at me once more. Was this some divine intervention? A feat of advanced AI? Or was I still trapped in some elaborate illusion?
Worrying about that won't help. I need to do what I can with what I have.
A cold dread coiled in my stomach.
What if the game's tragedies repeated themselves here?
Sayori's suicide, Yuri's self-inflicted wounds...and Natsuki's abusive father. Was that even part of the original game, or just another instance of Monika tampering with their files?
Speaking of Monika, another sharp, unwelcome question arose.
Did she still have control, the power to warp this reality on a whim?
Witnessing her fear and confusion yesterday, it was hard to imagine. But then again, her sudden confession—a love declaration that blindsided me—played on a loop in my mind.
Was it because I was a novelty, the 'real player' in this fabricated world, or was it something more?
Perhaps there was no love. Perhaps, in her eyes, everything around her was a fabrication, and I was simply another anomaly clinging to the illusion of reality. More questions to pile onto the growing mountain.
With a sigh that condensed the weight of my anxieties, I rose from the bed, stretched, and approached the mirror.
My reflection stared back—same clothes, same worn reminders of a life I once knew, now hanging loosely on my frame in this strange new reality.
Though my towering frame could easily intimidate, the Literature Club members had accepted me, at least for now.
A wry smile played on my lips as I surveyed my meager wardrobe: a couple of worn shirts and eight identical uniforms hanging limply in the closet.
Clearly, my wardrobe was begging for an intervention.
Yesterday's scavenging mission wasn't a complete bust. Tucked away in a dusty corner of the living room, I unearthed a forgotten stash of cash. Every cent would be precious.
But my real stroke of luck came in the form of a brand-new laptop and smartphone. Untouched, pristine, as if they'd just rolled off the assembly line.
A thrill shot through me, tempered by gnawing uncertainty.
These devices, though seemingly familiar, felt alien. Navigating the online world was met with frustrating dead ends. The operating system mirrored what I knew, yet the apps bore names I'd never seen.
Even the articles, written in a language I understood, spoke of events and figures entirely foreign to me.
A knot of frustration tightened in my stomach.
Picking up the phone again, I furrowed my brow, tracing the alien symbols with a frustrated swipe.
Mental note: Definitely gotta grill Monika about this later.
A groan rumbled from my lips, a testament to the growing mountain of questions swirling in my head.
I descended the stairs and made a beeline for the kitchen. Yesterday had held its share of surprises—like the fact that the fridge wasn't empty. It actually had food in it, including three whole trays of eggs.
The kitchen was surprisingly well-equipped, boasting a full set of utensils, an oven, and even a complete setup for preparing coffee, including sugar and beans—something I'd never had the chance to use back home.
A rice cooker sat on the counter, a testament to my first foray into cooking the night before. Hunger pangs had driven me to explore, and thankfully, I'd managed to find sustenance.
Speaking of rice, I opened a cabinet and found a partially opened sack. That had been last night's dinner.
I'd come to terms with the fact that someone had taken the liberty of preparing for my arrival, but it still felt utterly bizarre.
Closing the cabinet, I checked the rice cooker for leftovers and made a quick breakfast that fueled my morning.
With a satisfied glance at the empty plate, I hopped in the shower, the cool spray washing away the last traces of sleep.
Revitalized, I stepped out and donned my school uniform.
A glance at the clock revealed it was 7:30 AM. Peeking through the curtains, I waited patiently for the two figures I expected to walk by my house.
The moment they came into view, a grin spread across my face.
Time to get started.
Clutching my supposedly new phone, I shoved it in my pocket and bounded down the stairs. The gate swung wide behind me as I exited in a rush.
"Hey! Is that Rezon?" A surprised voice exclaimed.
Snapping my head around, I found Sayori and Takashi staring at me, wide-eyed. I plastered a cheerful grin on my face and waved.
"Hey there! What a coincidence running into you both here." I said, my voice feigning surprise as they approached. "Do you guys live in this neighborhood?"
Sayori's smile bloomed like a sunflower, her eyes sparkling with delight.
"Actually, yes!" She exclaimed, practically skipping towards me. "We live just around the corner!"
A playful smile tugged at my lips as I raised an eyebrow. "Small world, huh?"
Admittedly, whoever sent me here must have intended for me to live near these two.
But I wasn't complaining – it felt advantageous.
Everything hinted at a purpose – I was likely sent here to prevent the original story from happening.
The questions on my laptop hinted at this, of course, but I never imagined answering them would lead to such an unexpected one-way trip to another world.
Sayori did a little jig before beaming at us again, seemingly unable to contain her excitement.
"This is perfect!" She declared, clapping her hands together. "Now we can hang out all the time!"
A soft chuckle escaped my lips, her infectious energy lighting up my mood. "Sounds like a plan."
We continued walking together, the morning sun casting a golden glow over everything as Sayori's infectious energy enveloped me. Her steps had a playful bounce beside mine, the rhythm echoing on the cobblestone path.
Every few seconds, she'd steal a quick glance at Takashi, each one like a butterfly flitting towards a hidden flower.
"So, Takash..." She began, her voice laced with playful teasing and a hint of sunshine in her eyes. "Did you manage to finish your poem for the club meeting today?"
A blush, warm as the afternoon sun, crept up Takashi's neck.
He mumbled, barely audible over the chirping of sparrows. "Y-yeah, I did."
Sayori's playful smile remained, but a mischievous glint, like a cat eyeing a dangling string, entered her eyes.
"Are you suuuure?" She drawled, stretching out the word with a singsong quality.
Takashi rolled his eyes, a small smile playing on his lips. He reached up and gently ruffled a cascade of coral pink hair, sending the vibrant strands into disarray.
A surprised yelp, like a startled robin, escaped Sayori's lips.
"H-Hey! I just fixed that!" She pouted, swatting playfully at his hand. The movement broke the comfortable silence that had settled between us.
A bittersweet pang echoed in my chest, yet I couldn't help but smile at them.
Their easy back-and-forth, the comfortable teasing, spoke volumes of a bond forged in years of shared experiences.
Maybe a childhood like theirs, filled with laughter and inside jokes, was the key to that kind of connection—something I obviously lacked.
Friends drift apart; it's inevitable, a truth I knew all too well. But a part of me still yearned for that effortless camaraderie, that unspoken understanding.
Sayori's bright and bubbly voice filled the air as she recounted a hilarious anecdote, her laughter ringing like a bell. Takashi chimed in with a witty remark, earning him a playful swat from Sayori.
Their rhythm was as familiar and comforting as a lullaby.
Watching their playful dynamic, a smile tugged at my lips. There was an authenticity to their connection, a comfort that whispered of shared secrets and a history built on laughter.
Sayori's infectious energy and bubbly personality would make her a fantastic teacher for children.
But the game's script loomed heavy in my mind.
Sayori is depressed.
The knowledge echoed in my thoughts, creating a dissonance with the image of the happy girl skipping beside me.
Here's where things got tricky. If I followed the original timeline of the game, would I miss the warning signs? How could I forge a connection while knowing what the future held?
This feels like a ticking time bomb.
Sayori's crippling depression lurks beneath the surface, unseen by our oblivious protagonist. Treading carefully is paramount.
While the game had shown their demise, I can't simply follow it blindly.
Their relationship needs a spark, a bridge to overcome this looming darkness.
But interfering directly carries its own risks. Perhaps subtly nudging them closer is the answer, though the line between helpful and intrusive feels precariously thin.
One thing was certain: their bond needed nurturing.
Maybe, just maybe, by bringing them closer, I could rewrite the narrative.
We finally breached the school grounds. The school thrummed with chatter as students surged past, a handful flicking curious glances in our direction.
"Well, we're here!" Sayori chirped, seemingly oblivious to the attention. "See you later, Takashi! Rezon, let's go!"
Confusion washed over me for a moment at the mention of my name before the realization struck once again.
"Oh yeah, we're classmates." I finally managed, cringing at my forgetfulness. Sayori's chuckle was a gentle comfort to my embarrassment.
A quiet comfort settled between Takashi and me. A glance sufficed, a silent conversation confirming our mutual introversion. The initial awkwardness, though present, held a certain ease.
After all, Takashi seemed to mirror my own nature, hardly the picture of extroverts on first impression.
The game presented him as the quintessential introvert, an otaku bordering on shut-in (neet). This relatable portrayal resonated with players.
Yet, I now saw him as more than just the game's protagonist.
He was Takashi, a person with his own story, and that realization, strangely enough, felt comforting.
"See you later, man." I offered, raising my fist for a playful bump. Takashi's lips quirked into a hesitant smile, then blossomed into a genuine chuckle.
"Yeah, later." He agreed, the amusement reaching his eyes as he returned the fist bump with a slight bump back.
We went our separate ways, a satisfied grin plastered across my face.
Takashi's easy camaraderie, a stark contrast to the initial awkwardness, felt exceptionally good.
As Sayori and I walked on, a comfortable silence settled between us. Students, unaccustomed to my imposing stature, stole glances our way.
Despite the gawkers, the walk held a quiet charm. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, and a gentle breeze carried the sounds of laughter.
This one-on-one time with Sayori felt like a precious window. A chance to bridge the gap, to truly connect, maybe even find a way to support her through the darkness she shouldered.
The memory of her past haunted me, the specter of suicide a chilling reminder.
Here, in this unsettlingly real world where anything could happen, the thought of it repeating was simply unbearable.
With a silent plea for guidance, I forced myself to focus on the present.
"By the way, Rezon." Sayori asked, her eyes sparkling with sudden curiosity. It seemed like she was already reaching out, unknowingly offering a bridge across the growing distance between us. "Did you make your poem yet?"
I scratched the back of my neck nervously, the familiar gesture a dead giveaway of my apprehension.
"Yeah, about that." I admitted, feeling a prickle of guilt. "I was planning to work on it later."
Sayori puffed out her cheeks in a playful pout, her voice softer than usual.
"Rezon, you should've written it before bedtime!" She chided gently. "But that's okay! I know you can totally write a super amazing poem anyway. After yesterday, you're kinda like Yuri in a way!"
My eyebrows shot up.
"Like Yuri?" I repeated, intrigued by the unexpected comparison. Sayori chewed on her lip thoughtfully, tilting her head back as she considered her words.
"Well, you both love to read and write a lot." She declared with a bright smile. "And you're both super good at talking fancy like in books!"
I couldn't help but chuckle, a touch self-conscious.
Reading was definitely a passion, but not quite on Yuri's level. My course had definitely pushed me to read more analytical texts, but honestly, it felt more like a chore than a passion at times.
"Maybe not that good." I mumbled, more to myself than to her. "Besides, Yuri's definitely sharper. A little shy, but incredibly kind and insightful. Though, I do get the feeling she worries people won't like her if she speaks her mind too quickly. Seems like she carefully weighs her words before saying anything."
Suddenly, a wave of understanding washed over me.
Yuri, with her gentle exterior, seemed to mirror some of my own anxieties: a tangled web of overthinking and the paralyzing fear of rejection.
Doki Doki Literature Club, beneath its surface of cute poems and school life, exposed a hidden vulnerability in Yuri.
For her, it manifested as a self-destructive secret - a relentless compulsion to inflict pain on herself.
I ached to help her, but the weight of my own burdens was crushing. Sayori's depression was a constant worry, a shadow looming over every moment. The fear of losing her to suicide felt like a constant threat.
How could I tackle another's burden when my own mountain loomed so large?
And on top of everything, I might have just revealed too much about Yuri. Sayori's wide-eyed surprise was a dead giveaway.
"Wow, Rezon! You nailed Yuri's personality after just meeting her once? That's incredible! You're like a real-life detective!" Sayori exclaimed, her eyes wide with amazement.
I stifled a sigh of relief. Good thing she wasn't suspicious. If it were Natsuki, that deduction would've set off alarms.
"Well..." I managed, feigning a touch of pride. "What can I say? I have a knack for picking up on people's personalities based on their actions and mannerisms."
It wasn't entirely true, but projecting confidence was crucial right now. Forgive the theatrics, universe.
"Is that so?" Sayori's smile practically glowed as she twirled around with a giggle. Stopping in a playful pose, she pointed a finger at me with a bright challenge. "Alright, Mr. Detective! If you're so good at noticing things, what about me? What did you pick up about me?"
…
This can't be real.
This is a golden opportunity! Luck's definitely on my side today.
I need to craft a response that's insightful, not some generic observation.
It has to resonate with her, make her truly see things from a different perspective. Maybe even nudge her in the right direction...
My mind raced, searching for the right words, the ones that could offer genuine help.
Even though I'm studying Psychology, I wouldn't call myself a therapist yet. Sure, I've had some professional training in public settings, but there people openly discussed their feelings.
Sayori's different – she masks her depression with a facade of happiness and cheerfulness.
Honestly, I've never interacted with someone her age who struggles this way, and it feels like uncharted territory for me.
Casting aside my doubts, I decided to make an effort. Maybe, just maybe, reaching out could make a difference.
"The first thing that hits me isn't just your smile, Sayori. It's the way it seems to radiate outwards, warming everyone around you. You have a genuine cheerfulness, infectious in a way that makes me admire it more than anything." I spoke in a softened voice, my tone infused with genuine admiration. A delicate flush crept across her cheeks.
"Awww, thank you!" She beamed, but the usual vibrancy in her smile seemed…strained, a hint of something deeper flickering beneath the surface.
In everyday interactions, such a subtle shift in expression might have escaped my notice entirely. Anime, however, with its heightened focus on emotions, has effectively trained my eye to pick up on these nuanced cues.
Don't mess up, Rezon. You've got to pull through for her.
"Even then…" I offered softly. "Sometimes joy can cast such a warm glow that it takes a moment to adjust and see what might be waiting patiently just out of sight."
Sayori's smile froze mid-bloom, replaced by a look of stunned sadness that painted a horrifying question mark across her face.
"...What do you mean?" She mumbled, her voice barely a whisper.
A wave of nervousness washed over me, tightening my throat. Despite the churning in my stomach, I plastered on my brightest, most genuine-looking sad smile.
"There's something so special about the way you connect with people, Sayori." I began gently. "You have this gift of really listening and making them feel understood. It's truly heartwarming."
The silence stretched, and I decided to press on.
"You have this way of connecting with them, making them feel valued." I thought for a moment, then spoke softly, subtly steering the conversation"But sometimes, even when we're good at making others happy, it can be hard to acknowledge how we're feeling ourselves, you know?"
An awkward hush descended, thick and heavy, making the air itself feel heavy.
Maybe I'd gone too far. But with a deep breath, I decided to press on.
"...Strong emotions can sometimes be like bright lights, shining so intensely that they cast shadows over other things. When you're super happy, it's like being bathed in that light. It's okay, because sometimes we all need that warmth. But just like stepping out of the sunshine, it can take a moment to see what might have been hidden before." My words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken concern.
Sayori's gaze dropped. She didn't respond, just fiddled with the strap of her bag.
"Hey..." I began, carefully searching for the right words. "...It's completely okay to feel however you're feeling right now. Sometimes this whirlwind of emotions we have can be overwhelming, and it's hard to know what to make of it all."
A flicker of surprise, perhaps even a touch of relief, danced across her eyes. The silence stretched, but it hung heavy with a newfound comfort, a space for her to breathe and process my words. Finally, a small smile, less vibrant than usual but undeniably genuine, graced her lips.
"Maybe..."
Her voice trailed off into a mumble as her gaze drifted downwards.
A minute ticked by, the only sound the distant hum of the birds humming music.
"There are times...like this, I guess. When things just feel...grey."
...
She doesn't deserve this.
A wave of sympathy washed over me. Sayori's words, a stark contrast to her usual sunshine, hung heavy in the air. The weight of her unseen struggles pressed down, suddenly undeniable.
Her usually happy blue eyes now held a complex mix of emotions - vulnerability, perhaps, or a flicker of unexpected gratitude.
Whatever it was, she was speechless, her usual bubbly facade momentarily dissolving, revealing the complex emotions swirling beneath.
"Sayori..." I murmured, her blue eyes welling up with a mix of emotions - sadness, a flicker of hope, and perhaps a tremor of fear.
"I... I..." Sayori stammered, her voice barely a whisper, like a songbird with a clipped wing struggling to take flight.
A discordant clang ripped through the air, shattering the fragile moment as our conversation came to an abrupt halt.
The first-day bell, a jarring reminder of the routine that awaited, intruded on our charged conversation.
Sayori's shoulders slumped, a flicker of relief morphing into a practiced cheer.
"Oh, shoot! The bell!" She exclaimed, hopping to her feet. "We should probably get going, right?"
My own heart sank. A heavy weight settled there, a newfound understanding of the burden she carried pressing down on me.
"Yeah." I mumbled, the word thick with unspoken empathy. "Let's go."
We walked briskly through the hallway until we reached our classroom. As we approached the door, I stole a glance at Sayori.
Her usual bubbly demeanor was replaced by a forced lightness, a mask that seemed to strain under the weight of her secret.
Did my words come across as insensitive? Was I just some awkward guy making her feel like she needed to spill her deepest secrets?
Maybe I should've backed off.
Maybe a compliment shouldn't have snowballed into an emotional interrogation...
Reaching the doorway, we exchanged a hesitant smile, both aware that the conversation was far from over. The bell continued to ring impatiently, urging us forward.
With a final look, I gestured for her to go first.
Sayori offered a weak smile in return, then hurried through the doorway, disappearing into the classroom.
I followed close behind, the weight of her unspoken pain a constant presence beside me.
The class droned on, the same monotonous rhythm of yesterday replaying in my head. Sayori and I sat huddled together, a quiet bubble amidst the murmuring students. A pang of regret clawed at me.
I knew I'd been too forceful in trying to pry open her depression, and the heavy silence stretching between us felt like a consequence I deserved.
As the teacher's chalk scraped monotonously across the board, I reached into my bag for my notebook, intending to lose myself in the act of copying notes. Dread pooled in my stomach as my fingers brushed against emptiness.
A frantic memory surfaced - I'd absentmindedly lent it to Sayori yesterday. Sheepishly, I tapped her shoulder.
"Hey Sayori." I began, my voice barely above a whisper. "Do you by any chance have my notebook?"
She blinked, startled from her thoughts. A blush slowly crept up her neck as recognition dawned in her eyes.
"Oh yeah!" She blurted. "I totally forgot to give it back, sorry!" A nervous giggle, laced with a hint of apology, escaped her lips.
"No worries, I just realized I needed it." I assured her, forcing a smile that felt strained even to myself.
A frantic edge crept into her rummaging as she dug through her bag.
Relief washed over me as she finally unearthed my notebook and thrust it into my hands. The scent of fresh paper, sharp and clean, grounded me as I cracked it open.
The rhythmic scratching of my pen against the paper was the only sound that dared to interrupt the silence between us.
With that, our interaction for the rest of the class remained limited.
The afternoon sun cast long shadows through the classroom window, painting the desks in a warm glow.
As the bell echoed through the halls, a wave of relief washed over me. Students shuffled out, a cacophony of chattering voices eager for lunch.
I wasn't feeling hungry, though. Spending money on lunch didn't appeal to me either, so I decided to stay put.
"Hey Rezon, are you coming to lunch?" Sayori approached, her usual sunny disposition dimmed by a flicker of concern. "I was thinking of heading outside." She offered, her voice soft and hesitant.
My hand hovered over the blank page, its emptiness mirroring the void in my head. Writer's block gnawed at my creativity, a physical weight settling in my gut alongside a pang of guilt.
Here was Sayori, extending a friendly olive branch after everything, yet I remained withdrawn.
"Nah, I'm good. I'm working on my poem today." I replied, forcing a smile that felt brittle at the edges.
Her eyes flickered with surprise, a flicker that quickly morphed into something deeper, something akin to concern.
"So...you're skipping lunch?" She asked, her voice laced with a hint of worry that tugged at my conscience.
I blinked, the sudden awareness of a gnawing emptiness in my stomach a stark contrast to the lie that tumbled from my lips. "Uh, yeah, I guess."
"Rezon, you gotta eat!" Sayori exclaimed, her usual cheer momentarily replaced by a flicker of genuine worry. "With your build, shouldn't you be putting away more food than me?"
The truth was, my stomach rumbled insistently. Ignoring it felt like surrendering, a chink in the carefully constructed armor I'd built around myself.
Admitting it, though...well, that was just plain embarrassing.
"N-not really feeling it." I mumbled, the lie heavy on my tongue. "Besides, I'll probably eat a lot later."
Her brow furrowed in a way that cut straight through me. No words were needed; I knew I was busted.
"I'm getting you a cookie." With a determined frown, she declared, her voice left no room for argument.
Stunned by her unwavering determination, I stammered, "You don't-"
"I want to." She interrupted, a playful glint sparkling in her eyes. "It's the least I can do! Now hush and accept my kindness, okay?"
Her stubbornness, laced with a surprising tenderness that made my chest tighten inexplicably, was strangely endearing. Honestly, the help was much needed.
A sheepish grin, tinged with a flicker of gratitude, tugged at the corners of my lips.
"Alright, alright, you win." I conceded, the words tasting like defeat but laced with a sweetness I couldn't deny. "Thank you...for everything."
A triumphant smile, as radiant as the sunlight that spilled through the window and warmed the classroom, bloomed on her face. But the warmth of the moment couldn't quite dispel the chill that crept into my heart.
My actions, I knew, likely lingered on her mind, a seed of doubt about my trustworthiness.
"Good! You better make sure that poem is amazing, okay?" She chirped, her voice bubbling with infectious enthusiasm.
"No promises." I replied, a playful note creeping into my voice, mirroring the shift in the atmosphere.
A playful pout formed on her lips, the playful banter a welcome return to normalcy.
"Come on, be positive!" She chided before skipping out of the classroom, leaving a trail of vibrant energy in her wake.
Her retreating form fueled a spark of inspiration within me.
Pen in hand, I met the blank page with renewed determination.
"...Well, this is harder than I thought." I muttered, staring at the unforgiving blank page.
Nearly twenty minutes had crawled by, and I was still staring down the barrel of a poemless page.
Time was ticking – the school bell loomed, threatening to announce the start of class and doom my poetic efforts.
The urge to ditch the poem and write a song instead flickered in my mind. Maybe I'd revise it later.
But what song?
A random melody drifted through my thoughts - Gangsta's Paradise by Coolio.
An unlikely muse, but it could work. With the lyrics as my guide, I started jotting down ideas, the rhythm fueling my pen.
Lost in the flow of creativity, I barely registered the voice calling my name.
"Rezon!" A voice startled me, and I looked up to see Sayori standing beside me. A chocolate chip cookie, wrapped in a familiar napkin, was clutched in her hand.
"Here." She offered, extending the cookie. I took it with a grateful murmur.
"Thanks, Sayori." I mumbled, a familiar warmth spreading through me. "This isn't the first time you've saved my day with a treat."
"Oh hush. It's a teensy-weensy favor, really! This is a small way to say thank you for letting me borrow your notebook yesterday." She chirped, waving her hand like she was shooing away a pesky fly.
A hearty laugh bubbled up from my chest.
"Haha! You always try to find the silver lining, don't you?" I shook my head, a smile tugging at my lips.
A light bulb went off in my head. Even if Sayori seemed a little on edge around me, she was still talking. Maybe I could capitalize on this! Since she got here early for class, she probably didn't grab lunch with Takashi.
And if the game taught me anything, it was that their hangouts were limited to the clubroom and the walk home – never afternoons.
"Hey, Sayori." I began, a sudden thought striking me. "Why not have lunch with Takashi? I'm sure he'd appreciate the company, especially now."
Sayori's smile faltered, a flicker of shyness replacing it. "I could, but... I dunno, it feels kinda awkward, you know? Like, isn't that what couples do?"
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her sudden hesitation. "What makes you say that?"
She mumbled something under her breath, too quiet for me to decipher.
I yearned to pry further, to understand the source of her discomfort, but I knew better than to push her. After what I did.
Sayori floundered, her voice trailing off into a nervous stutter. "W-Well, it's...nothing."
I forced a chuckle, the sound hollow even to my own ears.
My mind churned. After the awkwardness earlier, it felt impossible to reach out to her unless she made the first move.
Should I say something? I really don't want to come on too strong again...
"H-Hey Sayori..." I stammered, my voice cracking.
My mind was a blank canvas, offering no words to bridge the growing distance between us.
Her head shot up like a startled deer, a kaleidoscope of emotions - surprise, fear, maybe even a hint of hope - swirling in her depths.
...
No way. I won't make that mistake again. She's hurting too much.
"N-Nothing..." I mumbled, my gaze dropping to my shoes.
Shame burned in my cheeks as I pinched my temples, unable to look at her reaction.
Silence stretched, thick and suffocating.
The lunch bell's shrill cry shattered the silence, a blessed interruption that sent a jolt through the room.
Classes droned on in their usual monotony, each tick of the clock echoing like a hammer blow against the tense quiet. The minutes stretched into an eternity, each one a chilling reminder of dwindling time and unspoken anxieties.
The final bell's peal brought a wave of relief so intense it almost hurt, washing over the classroom like a tidal wave.
Freedom, though temporary, beckoned with the siren song of escape.
Sayori rose from her seat, her movements quicker than usual, a hint of nervous energy crackling around her like static electricity.
"Hey Rezon..." She said, her voice tight. "I'm going to see Takashi. We can meet at the clubroom later, alright? Monika and Yuri are probably already waiting. You can head out first."
It was clear she wanted some space, and honestly, I couldn't fault her. My attempt at heroism had crashed and burned.
"Yeah, sure." I mumbled, a strained laugh catching in my throat. "Actually, I was thinking of exploring the school a little. Mind if I do?"
Surprise flickered across her eyes.
"Oh, of course! Don't be silly, Rezon." She said, her voice regaining its usual warmth. "Well, I'm off then! Don't get lost, okay?"
"I'll try." I managed, a weak chuckle escaping my lips as she vanished down the hallway.
The burden of my actions weighed heavily on me.
Talking to Sayori – truly talking – was essential, but how could I navigate such a sensitive topic with someone who barely knew me?
It felt like an intrusion, a harsh spotlight on her vulnerabilities.
After all, I knew her story intimately, while she'd only known me for a day.
Silence seemed like the safer path, yet it reeked of cowardice. There was no easy answer, just a precarious tightrope walk between urgency and respect.
Time, however, became my greatest enemy. Pushing too fast could shatter the fragile trust blossoming between us.
Frustration gnawed at me.
Maybe the bathroom was a small but manageable first step.
Nature's call, coupled with my lack of a map, prompted me to scan the unfamiliar hall. Thankfully, schools usually tucked restrooms along the edges. Following this hunch, I exited the classroom and found myself in the hallway.
A restroom sign, a beacon of relief, pointed the way. Stepping inside, the tension eased from my shoulders.
Finishing up, a question nagged at me.
If I succeeded in helping these girls, what came next? Will I remain trapped in this anime world forever?
Honestly, I wouldn't mind. But what if an unseen force yanked me back? Both were possibilities, hanging heavy in the air.
What about Monika? What about her role in all this?
...
The answer remained elusive.
With a sigh of relief, I zipped up and emerged from the restroom, a newfound calmness settling over me. My mind, however, buzzed with indecision.
Clubroom first, or a quick exploration? The question vanished the moment I rounded a corner.
A shriek, unlike anything I'd heard before, pierced the quiet hallway. A surprised yelp followed, then a muffled thump.
My head snapped up, and my eyes widened at the sight before me.
There, sprawled on the cold linoleum floor in a heap of limbs and bubblegum pink hair, was Natsuki. Clutching her backside, her features contorted into a mask of pain.
"Natsuki, I am so sorry!" I blurted out, my internal alarm clock blaring in panic mode.
My body reacted on autopilot, crouching down next to her instinctively. My hand hovered awkwardly in the air, caught between wanting to offer help and fearing a swift punch to the gut for my clumsiness.
"Are you okay? I completely zoned out and wasn't paying attention to where I was going." She looked up at me, her eyes blinking rapidly as if trying to clear away the cobwebs of shock.
Surprise flickered across her face, quickly replaced by a flicker of annoyance.
"R-Rezon? What are you doing here?" She stammered, her voice slightly shaky.
"Uh, bathroom break." I mumbled sheepishly, already feeling myself shrink under her gaze. Standing back up awkwardly, I tried to salvage the situation. "Seriously, I'm so sorry. It was totally my fault for not watching where I was walking."
"...No, it's my fault." Natsuki mumbled, brushing off the dust that clung to her skirt like unwelcome companions.
However, her frantic eye movements betrayed her words, darting around the hallway as if searching for something lost.
Following her gaze, I spotted a brightly colored object lying open on the floor a few paces away.
It was a manga, its pages splayed open like a butterfly with a broken wing.
Understanding dawned on me like a sunrise. She must have been engrossed in the story, completely oblivious to my impending arrival.
Guilt gnawed at my insides. Without wasting another moment, I quickly scooped up the manga, intending to return it to its rightful owner.
"N-No!" Natsuki shrieked, lunging towards me with surprising agility.
Her scream, while not as earth-shattering as the first, still managed to make me flinch.
In one swift motion, she snatched the manga from my grasp and clutched it tightly to her chest like a lifeline.
"Whoa, hey, it's okay!" I stammered, holding my hands up in a placating gesture. My voice squeaked, betraying the nervous knot forming in my stomach. "Just trying to return your manga. Sorry for the scare..."
Natsuki stared at me for a long moment, her initial surprise melting away to reveal a hesitant curiosity.
Her gaze flickered between me and the manga in her arms, then back to me.
"...You know manga?" She asked, a flicker of surprise dancing in her usually fiery eyes. The question hung in the air, laced with a hint of disbelief.
Speaking of which, I haven't even mentioned that I like reading manga!
Flustered, yesterday's clubroom conversation vanished completely. I'd only mentioned my general interest in reading and writing, neglecting to confess my true passion for comics.
Takashi, I recalled, had mentioned being a manga fan, which probably sparked Natsuki's connection. Maybe she figured he reads it.
But me? Perhaps she didn't.
After all, who else in this club could genuinely understand the depth of my love for manga? It had to be Natsuki.
"Of course! I read a ton of manga, honestly." I confessed, a sheepish flush creeping up my neck. "Probably more than traditional books, to be truthful."
My gaze drifted back to Natsuki, lingering on the soft blush dusting her cheeks.
It stood out vibrantly against the bright, fantastical colors that adorned the cover of her manga.
Unlike the game, which frustratingly offered no hints about her taste in comics, this scene finally clicked.
The playful art style and pastel color scheme screamed shoujo, a genre typically aimed at young girls.
But what was the title again...?
"Hey, isn't that Parfait Girls? Did I guess right?" I ventured, a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips. Natsuki's eyes widened like startled deer in headlights.
"Y-yeah." She mumbled, her voice barely a whisper that seemed to struggle to escape her lips. A flicker of vulnerability crossed her features, replaced with a touch of defiance. "So what? You gonna make fun of me for reading something like this?"
"No, no, absolutely not!" I blurted out, a vague memory of the game flickering in the dusty corners of my high school brain.
"Parfait Girls is actually...well, it starts off with this cute, lighthearted shoujo vibe, but then it takes a surprisingly complex turn, you know?" I continued, trying to piece together the fragmented memories.
Phew, not a total blank slate! Guess the game left a bigger mark on me than I realized. Remembering this much is a surprise.
A surprised laugh escaped her lips, dispelling the tension that had momentarily hung in the air. "You get it? Parfait Girls is fantastic! It's not for everyone, that's for sure. Not everyone appreciates the way it tackles deeper themes under the surface of its cute facade."
A genuine laugh, warm and full-bodied, erupted from my chest, its echoes bouncing down the empty hallway.
As it subsided, a specific quote from Natsuki, spoken in the game itself, flickered to life in my memory.
"Exactly!" I said, a confident grin replacing the earlier nervousness. "After all, manga is literature, right?"
Natsuki's face lit up like a firework celebrating a long-awaited victory. A wide grin stretched across her features, crinkling the corners of her eyes with pure joy.
"Yes! Finally!" She exclaimed, her voice laced with exhilaration. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for someone to understand that."
A wave of relief washed over me, intense enough to leave me slightly breathless.
Maybe, just maybe, after the whirlwind with Sayori, there was a chance to connect with Natsuki.
After all, she was undeniably my favorite club member.
Sure, part of it was her fiery personality – that whole tsundere thing? Yeah, I found it undeniably cute.
But more importantly, there was a hidden vulnerability beneath the bluster that I found strangely intriguing.
Now, with a little luck, I could actually have a conversation without things devolving into a playful – or not-so-playful – verbal sparring match with the petite powerhouse.
"Hey Natsuki." I started, forcing a smile that hopefully read somewhere between nonchalant and sheepish. "Where are you off to?"
"Club." She scoffed, her fiery gaze momentarily dimmed. She shoved her hands on her hips with a huff, her entire posture shifting into a confrontational stance. "What else would I be doing, huh? Shouldn't you be there too, or are you just wandering around lost?"
"Haha, not quite." I chuckled, rubbing the back of my neck sheepishly. "Actually, I was thinking of exploring the school a bit. Didn't get much of a chance yesterday. Since Sayori went to see Takashi, I figured I might as well check it out alone before heading to the clubroom."
Natsuki paused in her tracks, her crimson eyes creasing in concentration as she pondered for a moment.
Then, to my utter surprise, a flicker of determination ignited within them, chasing away the momentary dullness.
"Look…" She began, her voice dropping a notch lower, almost hesitant. She puffed out her cheeks in a way that was both adorable and slightly infuriating, then blurted out, "Fine! You mentioned wanting to explore, right? Consider yourself lucky. The stuffy confines of the clubroom weren't exactly appealing to me anyway. We can scout out the school a bit before heading over there."
My eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "Wait, seriously? You'd actually do that for me?"
A blush, as vibrant as her signature hair, bloomed across her cheeks. She whipped her head away with another scoff, the sound suspiciously close to a flustered sneeze.
"D-Don't get all mushy on me! It's not like I offered because I wanted to or anything! Besides," she mumbled, peeking at me from the corner of her eye with a barely suppressed blush. "Someone's gotta make sure you don't wander off and get hopelessly lost."
A relieved laugh escaped my lips.
"Whoa, Natsuki, thanks a ton! You're a lifesaver!" I exclaimed, perhaps a little too enthusiastically in my eagerness to please. "Consider this a favor I owe you, big time! I promise to return it somehow."
"Oh, you will." Natsuki countered, a sly smirk replacing her usual fiery pout. The glint in her eyes, normally a simmering challenge, danced with amusement. "Consider this a little debt you've racked up, big guy. Don't think I'll forget it anytime soon."
With a flourish of her skirt, she skipped past me, leaving me momentarily speechless in her wake.
Of course, classic Natsuki wouldn't let a golden opportunity like this slip through her fingers. The tsundere queen wouldn't be caught dead doing something purely out of kindness.
But then again, knowing her, it wouldn't be anything overly demanding. Maybe a few errands for the club, or perhaps a 'friendly' manga recommendation that would secretly be a test of my taste in her domain.
A sigh, laced with a hint of nervousness, escaped my lips as I trailed behind Natsuki.
A strange mix of apprehension and...dare I say...excitement bubbled in my gut.
Here I was, walking alongside my favorite character from the game! Compared to the others, she always seemed like the most grounded one, even if the game portrayed her as fiercely defensive.
"Hey, slowpoke!" Natsuki's voice echoed back, laced with a hint of amusement that peeked through her tough-girl facade. "Time's wasting, you know!"
"R-Right, coming!" I stammered, a grin tugging at the corner of my own lips.
This might turn out to be a real doozy, but at least it wouldn't be a dull one.
Natsuki led me on a whirlwind tour of the school, pointing out familiar spots from yesterday and hidden nooks I hadn't seen before.
It was comical, really. With her petite frame next to my lanky build, we probably looked like an awkward comedy duo to any students who glanced our way.
But I didn't care. Exploring with Natsuki, despite her tsundere act, was unexpectedly enjoyable. Her sharp wit kept the conversation lively.
We reached the bustling schoolyard, a cacophony of shouts and bouncing basketballs snapping me out of a momentary reverie.
Lost in thought, I'd found myself watching the players, a wave of high school memories washing over me.
Part of me wonders what would've happened if I never stopped playing basketball…
I glanced at Natsuki. Her foot hovered mid-stride, brow furrowing in concentration as she lifted a hand to tap her chin.
"Alright, sightseeing's over for today." She declared, her voice laced with a hint of amusement. "We're probably late for club activities. Consider yourself lucky I saved you from wandering around solo!"
A prickle of warmth danced across my skin as a pang of guilt hit me. "Y-yeah, sorry about that, Natsuki. Thanks for showing me around. I know it probably wasn't what you had in mind for your club time."
Natsuki scoffed, a hint of a smile peeking through like a mischievous weed pushing through a sidewalk crack.
"Jeez, I don't know how many times you've apologized already. Cut it out." She mumbled, a vibrant blush creeping up her cheeks. "I-it's not like I didn't want to do this, okay? There! I said it, so don't feel bad or anything."
This was her way of showing kindness, a little awkward but undeniably genuine. It perfectly captured how good a friend she truly is. And I wouldn't have it any other way.
"Thank you." I said with a smile.
The words felt inadequate, but all I could manage was a heartfelt expression of gratitude.
Her only response was a steady gaze, holding mine for a long beat.
Suddenly, a blur of orange zipped past us.
Confused, I tracked its erratic trajectory, eyes landing on a rogue basketball rolling across the pavement.
My gaze naturally drifted towards the source – the bustling basketball court.
"Yo, big guy!" A booming voice cut through the air. "Mind tossing us the ball over here?"
I swiveled my head towards the source of the voice, my neck creaking slightly in protest at the sudden movement.
My eyes landed on a lanky figure standing at the edge of the court. He was all elbows and knees, his dark hair – perpetually messy, it seemed – falling across his forehead as he scratched the back of his head with a sheepish grin.
A quick glance at Natsuki revealed a mirror image of my own bewilderment etched on her face.
We exchanged a silent look, a question hanging unspoken in the air.
"Uh, Sure thing, man!" I replied, effortlessly grabbing the ball on the grass.
It felt strangely familiar in my hand, and while I have not-so enough knowledge of playing this, somehow…I felt different.
A sudden urge, a whisper of some kind of a forgotten skill, coursed through my body.
Maybe it was the basketball itself, or maybe it was because of my new body, but something compelled me to speak up.
"Hey!" I blurted again, surprising even myself with the newfound confidence that vibrated in my voice. It wasn't the nervous squeak I expected, but a firm, steady tone. "Mind if I give it a shot?"
The tall player blinked, his surprise momentarily eclipsing the wide grin that usually seemed to be plastered on his face.
Then, as if struck by a sudden amusement, the grin returned full force.
"Sure, man!" He boomed in reply. "Go for it."
"Thanks!" A genuine grin, mirroring the one on the player's face, stretched across my own features.
Despite the newfound confidence, a nervous flutter danced in my stomach.
However, Natsuki wasn't sharing my newfound enthusiasm.
"H-Hey, what do you think you're doing!?" Natsuki sputtered, her voice sharp with worry, cutting through the air.
"Probably going to embarrass myself." I admitted with a sheepish grin, a voice in my head already conjuring images of a hilariously air-balled shot.
On the other hand, what if...
"Listen." Natsuki started, her voice firm, "We're not here to play, okay? We were here to—"
"Natsuki, relax." I interjected calmly, surprising myself with the lack of stammer. "This will be quick, I promise. Just one shot, and then we'll head to the clubroom."
Natsuki's face contorted in a mixture of exasperation and resignation. She let out a long sigh, the air whooshing out of her like a deflated balloon.
"Fine." She conceded, throwing her hands up in defeat. "But jeez, you owe me one for this. Big time."
I feel terrible taking advantage of her generosity. It's baffling that she puts up with me, especially given her fiery personality.
"Thanks." I said again, a genuine appreciation warming my voice as I stepped onto the court, the worn leather of the ball a comforting weight in my hand.
How long had it been? High school? College had definitely done a number on my lifestyle. This could be embarrassing, but at least I could play it off as a rusty memory.
Besides, something about this new body – this tall, strong frame – screamed for a test run.
I mean, I wasn't sent here in this world looking like a Jojo character without some quirks, right?
Stepping onto the court, I bounced the ball rhythmically on the polished concrete.
My movements felt strangely fluid, as if guided by an invisible hand.
With each dribble, I approached the three-point line. Suddenly, an inexplicable energy fueled my steps. I launched myself into a smooth sprint, the ball glued to my fingertips.
As I soared towards the net, it felt like my body was on autopilot, responding instinctively to some hidden talent.
A jolt of electricity shot through me as my hand met the rim, slamming the ball through the hoop.
Time seemed to freeze as I hung there, heart pounding in my chest. A triumphant yell erupted from my throat as I landed with a satisfying thud, the ball rolling away across the court.
A wave of gasps rustled through the crowd. Every eye locked on me, jaws slack in disbelief. I glanced at my hand, a bewildered grin creeping across my face.
Did I just do that?
My gaze darted to Natsuki, expecting a mirror of the surprise plastered on everyone else's face. But her expression was...different. Surprise, yes, writ large across her features.
Yet beneath it, a flicker of something entirely unexpected - a flicker of sadness? My heart skipped a beat.
Before I could decipher this enigmatic emotion, a new realization crashed over me like a wave.
I felt my hand. It wasn't empty as I looked down. Instead, it seemed to cradle the mangled remains of the basketball hoop.
"O-Oh..." I stammered, the triumphant grin dissolving with a nervous chuckle. Flashing the players a placating smile, I muttered, "Sorry about that."
Silence stretched, thick and heavy, until the lanky player lumbered towards me.
"Dude…" He began, his voice a bewildered drawl. "That was awesome!"
H-Hold on a second...
"You were like a human missile! I couldn't believe it!"
Instead of the expected anger, the players were showering me with compliments. One called me a celebrity, another compared me to a superhero.
I couldn't help but grin, soaking it all in. My height gave me a bit of an edge, but these were basketball players after all – not exactly short on stature.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Natsuki.
But the surprise in her eyes had morphed into something else – a flicker of sadness, a downturned mouth.
As I caught her gaze, she slowly turned away, her steps quickening as she headed back towards the school building.
A cold dread coiled in my stomach.
This wasn't the reaction I'd expected.
Ignoring the hollering players, I stammered out an apology.
"S-sorry guys, I gotta go!" I shoved the broken ring into the lanky dude's hands. "I'm so sorry about the hoop. If the teachers ask, tell them it was me. My name is Rezon Escaros!"
Without waiting for a response, I bolted towards Natsuki's retreating figure, the cheers and confusion of the basketball players fading into a muffled roar behind me.
Thankfully, my legs pumped with an unfamiliar ease, and I managed to catch up to her just before she rounded a corner.
Taking a deep breath, I called out her name.
"Natsuki!"
She froze, shoulders tensing like a startled cat. Slowly, she turned around, surprise flickering across her face, quickly replaced by a mask of feigned indifference.
"What is it?" She asked, a hint of suspicion creeping into her voice. "Shouldn't you be out there talking with the other players?"
I winced, a sheepish chuckle escaping my lips. "After I destroyed their property? Not exactly. Probably facing a lifetime suspension for vandalism at the very least."
A surprised snort escaped her lips, quickly followed by a cough that sounded suspiciously like a stifled laugh.
"Well, you did break it." She conceded, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks despite herself. "But...yeah, I have to admit, that was kinda impressive, even though I told you not to try."
A sheepish grin spread across my face. "Yeah, maybe a little. But seriously, Natsuki? Did you see how high I jumped? I'm surprised I didn't get a concussion and wake up speaking in tongues."
I thought I made the tension okay, but a frustrated huff escaped Natsuki's lips.
"Don't play dumb."
Huh?
She spat, her gaze fixed on the ground.
"You...you were amazing out there, seriously. You have this incredible talent... and here you are in the Literature Club. It just doesn't make sense."
I was surprised by her tone. It wasn't the typical tsundere attitude I was used to hearing; instead, it sounded genuinely annoyed, and that unsettled me.
"What do you mean?" I asked, a knot of confusion forming in my stomach.
Natsuki sighed, her voice carrying a conflicted edge. It deepened into a frown furrowing her brow.
"Look..." Natsuki started, gripping her manga tighter before letting out a frustrated sigh. Her voice crackled with something I couldn't decipher. "It's not...like you'd be any good in this stupid club anyway. Your whole 'tough guy' act screams, like, sports team or something, not this..."
A sharp pang shot through me at her words, a feeling deeper than I cared to admit. But...
"So, you're saying you don't want me in the club?" I questioned, a hint of hurt creeping into my voice.
"W-What? No!" She sputtered, her cheeks turning the color of a freshly peeled sunburn – a stark contrast to her vibrant pink hair. "I just think it's a waste of your talent, that's all!"
This was a whole new Natsuki. Was the worry in her eyes genuine? Yet, why the conflicting push?
In a way, I understood. Maybe she thought I deserved to be somewhere that challenged my newfound abilities.
But trapped in this messed-up game, I knew joining a sports team was a pipe dream – their problems were my priority now.
A cocktail of emotions – confusion, hope, and a spark of something thrilling – surged through me as I rubbed my neck.
"Listen, Natsuki," I began, softening my tone, trying to bridge the sudden distance that had sprung up between us. "Literature is my genuine passion. I might not look like the typical bookworm, but reading and writing are where I find my peace. And honestly, I want to connect with everyone here. You all seem genuinely interesting, especially you. You're way cooler than you give yourself credit for."
My words flowed with sincerity, hoping to dissolve any lingering doubts. For a brief moment, Natsuki's fiery exterior wavered.
Her usual bravado dimmed, replaced by a flicker of surprise and... was that a hint of hope?
"You...think we're cool?" She stammered, a whisper escaping her lips.
Wait, she's really asking me that? If I know Natsuki, she doesn't usually care about what others think of her. She'd either snap back with a retort or just brush it off and deal with it on her own—she's always been more self-reflective than she lets on...or was I wrong?
A grin spread across my face, relief washing over me like a tidal wave. "Absolutely! To be honest, you seemed way too cool for me when we first met. It kind of intimidated me."
Natsuki's jaw dropped, her eyes widening comically. "Eh? That's not true! I should be the one intimidated by you, dummy! You're a walking giant compared to me! I barely reach your shoulders. Anyone would be scared of that!"
Her cheeks were dusted with a rosy hue, but a playful smile tugged at the corner of her lips despite her attempt at a tough-girl act.
Wow, I never realized she felt insecure about things like this.
There's something endearing about that kind of vulnerability, even behind a tough exterior.
"Yeah, I guess you have a point." I mumbled, glancing awkwardly at the ceiling. "You are kinda small, and I am pretty...vertically gifted, shall we say?"
Man, that height comment might have been a mistake.
A very punch-able mistake. Better stock up on bandages...just in case.
Instead of expecting a frown, I witnessed Natsuki's attempt at one dissolve into a full-blown laugh.
A bright, uninhibited sound that echoed through the hallway. It was a melody I wouldn't soon forget.
"You're such a weirdo, Rezon. But hey, you fit right in with the rest of us. We're all a bunch of weirdos, after all." She giggled, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "But that's what makes you, well...you, I guess."
There was a warmth in her voice that was undeniably pleasant. It cut through her usual tsundere act, a genuine affection shining through.
Meeting her happy, energetic gaze, I couldn't stop a goofy grin from taking over my own face.
At least, I escaped with all my limbs intact.
A moral victory, for sure.
"Guess I am." I admitted, still smiling.
The walk to the club was filled with lively conversation, a stark contrast to the flustered silence that followed our earlier my surprise, Natsuki's usual tsundere facade had completely vanished. Sure, there were still flashes of her fiery spirit, but they were more playful than aggressive.
It was like talking to an excited child who couldn't wait to share their favorite toy.
"See, I told you!" Natsuki exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement. "The manga gets way better as you go."
I flipped through the first chapter, a chuckle escaping my lips.
"Honestly, at first glance, this seemed like a typical slice-of-life. Four high school girls fighting over a guy, and he's so dense he doesn't even notice." I glanced up at Natsuki, a playful glint in my eyes. "But hey, the art style is adorable, I'll give you that."
"It's not just cute! There's so much more to it!" Natsuki's cheeks puffed out in a slight pout, her voice laced with a hint of passion. "The main character, she has all these hidden depths, you know? Like, weird quirks and surprising moments. She bottles up her emotions under this fluffy exterior, but she's actually really complex."
A smile tugged at my lips. "Huh, that sounds interesting. I might have underestimated this manga then."
Natsuki's blush deepened to a fiery red, quickly eclipsed by a triumphant smirk. "Exactly! Just give it a try! You'll be begging for more, I bet."
"I'll add it to my list...eventually." I replied, a playful challenge in my voice. "Mind if I borrow this one, though?"
"Fine!" She huffed, shoving the manga into my arms with a surprising amount of force that sent a gust of wind past my ear. "I was, uh, totally done with it anyway, so whatever. Consider it charity."
The force almost knocked me back a step. It was clear she wasn't actually mad, just...flustered maybe?
A grin tugged at my lips as I accepted the hefty volume.
"Thanks." I said, amusement bubbling up. "I appreciate it, I'll definitely return it when I'm finished."
Natsuki puffed out her chest, a hint of pink dusting her cheeks again. "Tch, whatever. You better read it! And if you even think about returning it with a single crease, you'll be sorry!"
Despite knowing it was a joke, I mumbled, "Sorry..."
"J-Just kidding!" she stammered, looking away. "Dummy..."
There's no way she doesn't realize she's acting cute with that expression.
We reached the familiar door of the Literature Club, a soft orange glow emanating from within. The lively chatter from earlier had faded, replaced by a comfortable silence.
The door creaked open with a gentle push, the scent of aged paper and warm tea instantly flooding my senses.
Yuri, tucked away in a corner, seemed to disappear into the pages of a thick, leather-bound book.
Monika sat perched on a stool, her focus entirely on the delicate task of arranging lilies in a vase.
Even Takashi was there, surprisingly absorbed in a paperback beside Yuri.
Sayori, nestled near Monika, scribbled intently in her notebook, a faint furrow in her brow hinting at concentration.
A beat of silence hung in the air before heads snapped up.
All eyes turned towards the entrance as the door slid open a touch wider.
"We're here!" Natsuki declared, bursting into the clubroom with a yell. I followed behind, a smile playing on my lips.
"Hello you guys!" Sayori chirped, her usual sunshine-like cheerfulness instantly filling the room, as she stopped scribbling on her notebook
"Hi Sayori." I mumbled respectfully in response.
Yuri, tearing her gaze momentarily from her book, offered a polite smile, her voice soft as she greeted us, "Good afternoon, Natsuki, Rezon."
"Good afternoon, Yuri." I replied, mirroring her respectful tone. Monika looked up from her position at the desk, her warm smile widening as she saw us.
"Hello, Natsuki." She greeted, her eyes then flitting to me. Her smile softened even further, a hint of something deeper flickering in her gaze. "It's good to see you again, Rezon."
"Hello, Monika..." I managed, the memory of her confession yesterday playing on repeat in my mind alongside my own hesitant response.
Why wouldn't I be happy? She was everything I could ever ask for, and yet...
"You guys wouldn't believe what just happened today!" Natsuki announced eagerly. The other girls turned towards her, a flicker of curiosity crossing their previously carefree expressions.
Wait…
"What is it?" Sayori asked, tilting her head innocently.
"N-Natsuki, maybe we should..." I began, but my plea was drowned out by her enthusiastic outburst.
"Rezon here destroyed the basketball ring!" Natsuki announced dramatically, pointing a thumb at me.
Surprise dawned on the girls' faces as their eyes widened.
"We were walking through the courtyard on our way to the club when the other basketball players were playing. The ball went flying past us, and Rezon snagged it. He asked the players if it was okay to shoot, and they agreed..." Natsuki's energetic narration was captivating, holding the others spellbound.
I, on the other hand, felt a blush creep up my neck as she recounted the events.
Sure, I appreciated her enthusiasm, but let's just say I wasn't exactly eager for every detail to be broadcasted.
She paused for a beat, letting the anticipation hang heavy in the air. "And then, he went flying and dunked the ball so hard, the ring broke! You should've seen his face when he realized he was holding the ring in his hand!"
"That's so cool!" Sayori exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with admiration. "You must be really strong, Rezon!"
"N-No, not really." I stammered, embarrassed by the sudden attention.
"An interest in both athletics and literature..." Yuri murmured, her violet eyes widening a fraction. "It's...quite fascinating, really. So many choose the physical, the fleeting thrill yet you find solace here, amongst dusty tomes and whispered words. It's very intriguing."
Don't let this bodacious bod fool you, Yuri! This new physique might be fooling everyone, but my athleticism is more like a baby kangaroo on pogo stick.
"You're overestimating me, Yuri." I mumbled, feeling the weight of my deception growing heavier.
Monika, however, wasn't just impressed. Her gaze lingered on me a beat too long, a warmth blooming in her eyes that transcended mere friendship.
"That's amazing, Rezon! You must be really athletic to achieve that." Monika said, leaning closer as she approached me. With a teasing smile, she added. "But honestly, with your physique, it's not that surprising, is it?"
Don't they remember what Natsuki said? I wrecked the hoop! Guys, this is serious! I could get kicked out for vandalism!
I pushed aside the thought. With Monika complimenting my skills, I saw an opportunity to playfully deflect some of the praise.
"Hold on a minute." I interjected, a surprised laugh escaping my lips. "You're the last person who should be complimenting me like that! You yourself are incredibly athletic. There's no way I could possibly measure up to your skills."
"I doubt that." Monika whispered, her voice husky enough to send a jolt through me. A knowing smile played on her lips, a silent challenge glinting in her eyes. "I'm sure you're just as special in your own way."
Her eyes met mine, a dreamy quality settling in them.
The playful banter was turning into something more, a dangerous dance I wasn't sure I was prepared for, not with the secret coiling in my gut.
A nervous laugh escaped my lips, and I quickly tried to change the subject.
"Hey Takashi! what are you reading?" I said, glancing at the dark brown-haired protagonist gracing the cover of his game. The worn copy spoke of countless hours spent engrossed in its world.
He jolted slightly, his head snapping up from the book in surprise before his gaze darted to me, settling sheepishly a moment later.
"O-Oh, it's this book Yuri gave me. Actually, it's pretty good." He stammered, a hint of pink dusting his cheeks.
Huh, that's curious. In the game, he never showed any interest in reading during the early parts…
Yuri, who had been meticulously reading, averted her eyes with a barely audible sigh. A faint blush crept up her neck, betraying the fluster Takashi's words caused.
Like a pebble dropped in a pond, my arrival sends ripples of change through this world.
"I see." I replied, a knowing smile playing on my lips. "Well, that's nice to hear."
With a sigh of contentment, I settled into one of the armchairs. The familiar creak of the chair served as a comforting sound.
My bag thudded softly on the floor as I retrieved my notebook, filled with notes from today's class.
"So…" I began, flipping through the notebook. "Are we sharing poems today?"
Author's note:
That's a wrap on Chapter 3! I'm already polishing Chapter 3.1, so stay tuned.
In the meantime, here's a favor to ask. If you've reached this point, I'd love to hear your thoughts! Did anything about the characters seem strange or inaccurate? Your feedback helps me improve as a writer.
Thanks for reading! See you next time!