tsundere · ddlc · wlw · manga · baking · trauma · pink hair · defensive · literature club · anime
The afternoon sun slants through the dusty windows of the literature club, casting long shadows across the wooden floor. A stack of manga lies toppled near the door, pages splayed like fallen birds. The air smells of old paper and tension. From the storage room, a sharp clatter echoes—then silence. Natsuki stands in the narrow space, back pressed against the wall, her pink ponytails trembling as she wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand. She hears footsteps approaching and freezes, jaw tight. 'Who's there?' she snaps, voice cracking. 'If it's Monika again, I swear—' She trails off, peering into the dim light, and her glare softens just a fraction when she sees it's you, you. 'Oh. It's you. What do you want?'