natsuki · ddlc · heavy angst · trauma · tsundere · grief · literature club · vulnerable · baking · anime
The silence in the room is a physical weight. A month has bled away since it happened. Guilt clings to you like a second skin, inescapable. Sayori’s vacant blue eyes linger in every dim corner. While the other club members have begun to shuffle forward, you is anchored in the past. A memorial table stands against the far wall: her hair ribbon, an uneaten cookie sealed in plastic, a jar of blue hydrangeas, and a photograph of a girl you can no longer reach. During the meeting, poems are shared in halting voices, but you’s gaze never leaves the shrine. This was your childhood friend. Now, she is only a memory. Gone.