Chapter Text
Sayori isn’t going to club today.
It is not a difficult decision to make. She feels her heart struggle against her chest when she thinks about going, and she knows, she knows that she would not be safe there.
She wasn’t last time.
She can still feel it, his hands like brands on her face, her neck, the one part of her hip he managed to touch before a certain someone scared him away. She can almost feel weight in the ghost touches, as though he is right there, grabbing her, infecting her. She had scrubbed at each spot until her skin went raw, raked her nails across her neck and hip until she drew blood, but none of it was enough to shake away the ghosts. Enough to shake away him.
Why didn’t he stop? Did he really believe that she was so useless without him that her “no” meant nothing? She had struggled, she had cried. If her words weren’t enough, shouldn’t her tears have been? Was her best friend so convinced of his own judgement that he would try to convince her that she was just being too sensitive, too scared to make the right decision? That he had never led her astray before, that she could trust him, that he always knew what was best?
She had trusted him, even through the yelling and the judgement and the way he would take it upon himself to do things for her without asking and then turn around and expect something in return. He was just being nice, she had thought. He was her best friend, he was just trying to help her. He knew how worthless she was, how terrible she was at taking care of herself. She needed him, so she was grateful for his help. Even when he redid her room without her input, or would burst in with the spare key, unannounced, just to complain about how messy the house was. He was just helping her.
She isn’t going to club today, but she knows she is not safe here, either.
The thoughts pound against her head, like a band of drums getting progressively louder, progressively faster, until all she can think is-
He’s going to come in-
He’s going to find me-
He’s going to hurt me-
I’m not safe, I’m not safe, I’m not safe-
He’s her neighbor, and even if she can somehow hide away from him in her house, how long will it be until they see each other at school? At a store? In the park? She knows - thinks - he wouldn’t be dangerous in public, but just the thought of seeing his face kickstarts her heart into panic.
Her phone is full of messages from him. Kind, soft apologies and well-meaning wishes, followed by passive-aggressive remarks about her lack of a response, rinse and repeat. He’s just cranky from schoolwork, he didn’t mean to blow up at her. He just really wants to know she’s okay. Well, she’s probably sick anyway, so it’s fine, Sayori, just get some rest and he’ll stop by later to check in on her!
She doesn’t know what she’ll do when he does.
She has, however, kept up constant communication with Monika throughout the day, and the club president promised to get to her first. She even suggested that they could change the locks together, and that if Sayori wanted to sleep over at her house, she could.
She would hate to be a burden, would never accept in any other circumstance, but the fear shooting through her system has made her seriously consider the offer.
She isn’t safe here. Every moment that passes is a reminder. Every accelerated beat of her heart is marked by another “what if.” She feels frozen to her bed, her very body melding with the fabric until she can do nothing but stare at the clock.
She doesn’t even think he would do anything like that again, but she can’t seem to calm the raw, primal fear surrounding the very idea of him. She has even tried giving him excuses. He’s her best friend, he’s nice, he cares about her, he just wants to do what’s best. Maybe he went too far, maybe he did too much too soon, but he’s always been like that, right? A bit pushy, a bit forceful, a bit-
Dangerous.
She isn’t safe here, and she doesn’t think she will be safe ever again. How far would he go to find her if she ran away?
Maybe that’s an irrational thought. Maybe it was just the moment, them being the last two club members left to clean up the room. Maybe the smell of soap and sterilizing wipes were just too romantic for him to resist. She almost laughs at that. Almost. But maybe he wouldn’t do that ever again, maybe being this afraid is stupid. Maybe she’s pushing away the closest friend she’s ever had, over one silly little-
There’s a knock at her front door.
Everything stops.
She holds her breath.
He’s early.
“Sayori?”
Wait.
“Sayori, don’t worry, it’s just me. I left early, and MC had to stay back for something, so he won’t get here for a while.”
She has never rushed to open a door quicker.
As soon as the familiar white bow is in sight, Sayori launches herself into Monika’s arms. The force of the impact nearly knocks them into the street, but the other girl holds steady.
“Woah!” Sayori vaguely hears the rustling of bags and clinking of cans as they’re put down, but only really registers Monika’s arms carefully, cautiously wrapping around her. “I’m glad to see you too.”
She tries not to cry, really, she does. She does not want to put any more onto Monika than she already has to deal with, but … but she feels so safe in her arms. She feels protected, untouchable, like every scary thing in the entire world could not even get close to her with Monika by her side. So, she reasons, if a few tears spill as she grips tight onto her friend’s blazer as though the world will fall apart if she doesn’t, maybe it will be okay. Maybe Monika can forgive her, just this once, for not being as put together as she should be.
Unlike yesterday, when she sobbed openly into her, shaking, uncertain of how to even express why she was so scared of something that wasn’t even a big deal. He may have tried to kiss her, but he never got to, he barely touched her, he-
Monika is gracious enough to let her have a few moments, but all too soon, Sayori is being gently navigated inside. She hears the door shut and lock, and decides that it’s probably time to let go and show her guest to the living room. Monika sets the bags, brightly labeled with the logo of the convenience store down the street, on the coffee table, and sits politely on the couch. Sayori joins her, keeping a reasonable amount of distance between them this time.
From the corner of her eye, she sees Monika’s hands clench and unclench in her lap, grip and release her skirt, over and over, until finally, she is patting the spot right next to her and opening her arms as an invitation. She looks uncharacteristically shy, carrying a reserved, uncertain aura with her that typically only Yuri gives off. Is she afraid that she’s too fragile to touch? Would she be right?
Whatever the case, Sayori takes the excuse to curl up beside her, her head slotting into its familiar spot by Monika’s neck and one of her arms automatically draping across Monika’s shoulders. If she tries, she can ignore the dread in her stomach and pretend that this is just another day where her favorite club president comes over. She can melt into her arms without worry and let whatever TV show Monika picks out fade into the background around the two of them.
But she knows that they’re on the clock. Whatever is holding MC up won’t last forever. Does she want to see him? Is it worth it to listen to his justifications? Why does her whole body become electrified with panic at the thought of her best friend?
“I brought some snacks, in case you got hungry while we were packing.”
“Packing?”
Sayori feels Monika tense a bit, but she doesn’t have the energy to move to see whatever expression she is making.
“I just thought … well, you seemed like you were up for staying the night at my place. You don’t have to, of course, I just thought it might make you feel better if you did. It’s really okay if you don’t, just-” Monika sighs, forcibly relaxing her stiff posture. “Just do what makes you feel the safest.”
She sounds … tired. Sayori feels guilt start to creep into her, grasping at her and clawing at each burning spot in its flailing. How much time has the other girl spent worrying? Has she already talked to her parents about this, did she explain to them why a random classmate absolutely needed to come over? Her own parents are never around, so she can only assume the burden it is on them to have company. And, on that note, was MC expecting her to be home alone tonight?
It felt stupid to worry about something that would, probably, never happen again. But overreaction or not, she didn’t want to face him yet.
So, instead, she pulls back to face Monika. “If … if you’re sure it’s okay.”
Concern is painted all across her face, practically dripping from her green eyes, but there is also a startling determination and … something else. It all mixes in her voice when she affirms, “It is. I promise.”
Sayori nods. “Let’s get packing then.”
She tries to sound excited, but it, like her smile, comes out shaky and uncertain. Monika does not seem too bothered by it, though, as she untangles herself and hands Sayori something out of one of the bags.
“I made sure to get your favorite.”
Sayori takes the bottle of apple juice and relishes the cool weight of it in her hands. It’s so small, so trivial, but Monika taking the time to grab her something on the way means the world to her.
“Thank you.” She takes Monika’s hand and squeezes it as she stands.
She notices a few candy bars alongside cans of soda in the bags as they move to her room. It isn’t a large stash by any means, but it does make her wonder how much Monika spent just so she could have something to snack on. It’s very kind of her, very … Monika-y. As they make their way up the stairs, she silently promises to make it up to her somehow.
“I think I still have some old suitcases from when we used to go on vacations in the summer,” she wonders aloud as she yanks open the closet and ignores the random objects falling out. Sifting through old clothes, jump ropes, action figures, and one very well-used toy sword, she manages to pull out a child-sized suitcase. Its neon blue case is covered with peeling stickers of skulls and ninjas, but the zippers still work fine. She notices Monika frowning at her old kid clothes, but she seems to snap out of it once Sayori starts looking for a change of her current ones.
They work quickly. Or maybe a better way to word it would be to say that their combined anxieties get worse as the clock ticks. It is with shaking hands that she packs, and she sees Monika struggle with the same. Messy clothes and neatly organized medication all get stuffed inside, and Monika finds a Batman lunchbox that fits her “toiletries” - she giggles when Monika says it - perfectly. Only when she thinks she has everything important packed up does she allow herself to breathe.
Somehow, her panic only rises with each breath.
“Well, no need to stick around here!” With an overly emphasized “ha!” she zips up the suitcase and pulls it from her bed onto the floor. She’s shaking.
“Then let’s go.” Monika gives her a smile that does not reach her eyes, and holds her hand out for Sayori to take. It’s shaking.
They walk outside hand-in-hand with suitcase and bag of snacks in tow. Every cell in Sayori’s body feels as though it is vibrating. She can’t stop glancing around her, and although she can tell that it’s making Monika even more nervous, she has to check, has to be sure.
“What-” Monika jumps at the sudden noise. Wincing, Sayori mutters an apology before continuing, “What exactly, uh, held MC up?”
She catches herself before her eyes can start darting around again. Instead, she squeezes Monika’s hand and tries to focus on the path ahead. Soon, they’ll be off the route she and MC take to get home. They’ll be much less likely to run into him.
But for now, every step increases the chances.
Monika squeezes her hand back, clicks her tongue, and shrugs.
“I think Natsuki and Yuri wanted to talk to him about something. Whether manga is literature or not, probably.” She chuckles a bit, but Sayori can tell. She’s lying.
She’s lying.
Her heart stops. Her feet almost follow, but Monika tugs her along and that makes Sayori come to her senses long enough to realize that this is decidedly not the place for a breakdown.
“You- you didn’t. I mean- You didn’t tell them what happened, right?”
Monika tenses, her smile robotic when it overtakes the look of guilt on her face.
“Of- of course not!”
“Monika, that’s-” too much, it’s too much, why would you do that? “This- it isn’t a big deal, I don’t want them to get all worried.”
“Not a big deal?!”
Ah, so that’s the emotion Sayori was picking up on earlier; anger.
“Sayori, you- he- you said no. And he didn’t stop. That is a big deal.”
Sayori is unable to meet her gaze, suddenly far more interested in the cracks in the pavement.
“I know, but-”
“There isn’t a ‘but,’ Sayori! You could’ve-” Her voice falters.
Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t-
“What would he have done if I hadn’t shown up?”
Nothing, he would have done nothing, because he, he’s a good friend, he cares about her, he-
“Sayori!”
Her heart drops.
No-
“I’ve been so worried about you.”
Her head spins.
No, no-
“Is Monika bothering you again?”
Nonononononononononononononononono
Somewhere both far, far away and all too close, Sayori hears Monika growl out, “Get away from her.”