Storm Clouds

Shoutout to Reflection and TeachAnon. You guys are the best.

You pace around your room. It's the night before the festival. You and Sayori will be going as a "couple". Something about the word tastes strange. Perhaps you're not used to it yet: you two confessed your feelings to each other only earlier today. You should be happy, shouldn't you? But you're not.

She said that the rainclouds wouldn't go away, even as you clutched her in your arms and told her how you felt. For today was also the day that she confessed her the depression she's hid from you for all of her life. You felt betrayed, stabbed where you least expected, as if someone you trusted force-fed you something insultingly bitter. For as long as you've known her, she's always smiled; you've only ever seen her cry when the dog died in that movie. That's why today was so jarring. Out of nowhere, she revealed a side you had never seen before. She's been depressed this whole time, and she never told you or even let on. Had she been faking her whole personality, hiding her true self the entire time? Was she ever content with herself or her life, or was that just the facade she held for you, while her misery hid under the surface?

She's been your friend all your life, but now you're sitting in your room late at night pondering what is going on inside of her, debating whether her whole existence was a lie to you. You do know one thing about her, though: her whole life, she's kept up the act for your benefit. She's always been there for you whenever you needed her: even after you two grew distant throughout high school and you didn't want to walk to school with her, she kept thinking about you. Worrying about you growing up into a worthless NEET. Coercing you into a club to get you to make more friends. Hell, you joined the club as a favor for her. Even when she asks for favors from you, she requests them only because she wants what's best for you.Compared to her efforts, you look like a pathetic friend. Sure, you've spent some time with her, but has it been enough? You didn't even know about her depression until today.

Her depression. She said that even while you confessed your feelings for her, she didn't feel happy. After hearing that, how could you just let her go home alone? You know she didn't want you to worry, but that's your job! As her best friend and now boyfriend, that's what you do. So why didn't you go home with her? You should be spending time with her, keeping her company. She's spent all of her life holding this inside, and you run off as soon as she finally confides in you? You leave her so she can keep bottling up these horrible emotions until... until...

Nothing good can come from thinking like that. It's time to act.
You call her number.
For a moment, no response.
She picks up. You exhale slowly, letting out a breath that you hadn't noticed that you were holding.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Sayori."
"Anon? Why are you up right now? It's so late..."
"I could say the same for you, huh?"
"Ehehe, yeah."
"..."
"..."
"Sorry, I was going to ask you something, but I forgot what it was. Good night, Sayori. I look forward to hanging out at the festival tomorrow!"
"Me too, Anon. Good night, make sure to get plenty of sleep, okay?"
The phone clicks.

You're a damn coward. You know that you should have asked if you could come over for a sleepover or something. Sure, she might think you're implying something perverted, but she really needs to be with someone else right now, doesn't she? And even now, she's worried about how much sleep you get. A sorry sigh escapes your lungs as you flop into bed to escape this turmoil. Good night, Sayori.

--

You open your eyes. It's still dark. Why are you awake? You look around and notice that your room is a mess; Sayori will scold you if it isn't clean when she comes over. That can be handled later. Perhaps you should get started with your day? You glance at the clock, 5:30 AM. You still have an hour or so until the alarm rings. You roll over and try to re-enter your dreams. Your roll faces you towards the window and gives you a clear view of Sayori's house. There's light coming out of her window, but why? She's never been one to wake up on time, much less earlier than you. Your tranquil expression deflates into an anxious grimace. It's possible that she didn't sleep at all. The thought finally forces you into action. You pick up your phone and call her again.

"..."

Nothing. Her phone is turned off. You force out an unsteady sigh. Looks like you'll have to go see her in person, at 5:30 in the morning the day after she told you that the worst thing you can do for her is worry. Oh, God. Before you head over to her house, you come up with something casual to say: "Hi Sayori, I was just going for a morning run and saw that you were awake. Wanna come with me? What? Of course I run in the mornings, you just don't see me because you always lay in bed!" That's a bit harsh when you consider why she sits in bed, but who knows? Maybe the teasing will encourage her to accept the offer. You stroll on over. The light in her bedroom is still on. Are your hairs pricking up from the cold? You knock on the door. Still nothing. Entering uninvited wouldn't look good. You proceed anyway.

"Sayori?"
She should have heard you by now.
You start walking up the stairs.
You have to force your feet through the muck of cowardice to take each step.
You reach her door.
Your heart screams like a terrified animal.
"Sayori, are you in there?" You brace for the inevitable question: "What are you doing here, Anon?"
The silence is palpable.

You open the door.

She's sleeping at her desk, head on top of folded arms, her computer still on. She really can work hard when she needs to. Before you go to wake her, though, that computer catches your eye.

"Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head..." What is this?

"Get out of my head before I do what I know is best for you."
"Get out of my head before I listen to everything she said to me."
"Get out of my head before I show you how much I love you."
"Get out of my head before I finish writing this poem."

A faint sensation of nausea tickles your throat.

"But a poem is never actually finished."
"It just stops moving."

You look away from the computer, but you're forced to study her room with new eyes. An untouched bed, neatly arranged shelves, no clothes on the floor. In happier times you would have been proud of her for keeping the room so orderly. In one corner, a small coil of rope sits next to a camping guide flipped open to the knots section. In another corner, a small chair is moved out of its normal place, ready to be used. You don't remember the metal hook in the ceiling.

You can't help but recall the first poem that Sayori ever shared with you. The lines take on new meaning.
"The way you glow through my blinds in the morning"
"It makes me feel like you missed me."
"Kissing my forehead to help me out of bed."
"Making me rub the sleepy from my eyes."

What would she have done had you not come this morning?

"Are you asking me to come out and play?"
"Are you trusting me to wish away a rainy day?"
"I look above. The sky is blue."
"It's a secret, but I trust you too."

She was wrong to trust you: you've only arrived a little bit before it was too late, that's all. You don't deserve her trust. You don't even deserve her friendship.

"If it wasn't for you, I could sleep forever."
"But I'm not mad."

"I want breakfast."

You just narrowly dodged death. There was a good chance that you might have decided to stay in bed; you would have lost Sayori if you had done so. Your best friend, your only love. The only thing that brings light to your worthless existence. What would a world without her look like? Perhaps in a week, you would be at her funeral. More likely, you'd just follow her example. There's no way you could bear to wake up every day remembering that you were supposed to be her sun. The void in your soul emerges, swallowing your strength and your thoughts in a fit of woe.

You have to put an arm on a shelf to steady yourself before you stagger over to the bathroom and release both pent-up emotions and vomit. A minute later and you're able to walk again. You go back to Sayori and appraise her sleeping form. She's breathing softly, but shifts restlessly. You're just going to let her sleep for now: there's something else that's currently nagging at your mind. Besides the obvious implications, one thing caught your eye from her last poem.

"Get out of my head before I listen to everything she said to me."
Who is "she"?

You snoop around in Sayori's computer while you still have the chance. She sent that poem to someone. Monika. Monika. Something dark stirs in your heart. You look to see what else she's been doing with Monika. They have indeed been working on the pamphlet together over the weekend. You scroll farther through their conversations and start reading again. The civil, friendly demeanor evaporates.

"Don't you know we'd all be better off without you weighing us down?"
"How do you think Anon sees you when he knows just how pathetic and miserable you are?"
"Really? You "love" him? I can't believe you really told him that. You're so selfish for dumping your issues onto him. You know how much he worries about his friends, and you just put on his shoulders the one problem that can never be fixed: you."
"So what if he said he "loves" you? He's a very kind person, he'd rather lie to you than break your heart."
"I mean, do you even consider anyone else, or do you only think about your own problems?"
"Why can't you just disappear and leave everyone else alone?"

--

Several minutes later, a semi-conscious Sayori is locked into the closet with some sandwiches, water bottles, and a passionate letter while you walk out of the house with new purpose. You don't want to hurt her feelings: you just can't afford to worry about what she might do. She will understand.

The morning is still young. Fog still clings to the air as you walk.

Your arms are trembling. The cold? Your cheeks are soaked. Sweat? Your hand is bleeding. Did you accidentally grab the blade's edge? It doesn't matter. There's no place for hesitation in your heart, not when someone threatens to extinguish the sun. You silently make your way to her address.

--

You're there. You knock on the door. No answer. It's unlocked. You let yourself in.
You don't call out for her. You listen, and you creep towards the sound of breathing. Let's see what Monika has to say for herself.

--

Sayori finally breaks open the closet door. Surely Anon didn't intend to lock her up all day? She stays in her room and waits for him to come back to her as he promised in the letter. He doesn't return that day. Or the next. Or the next. Or the next. Or ever.