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Natsuki knew something was up when she realized Yuri's new house had a permanently locked room.
She knew it was locked, Sayori got up to go to the bathroom one time, and when she got to that door, the handle didn't budge. Quickly followed by Yuri nervously pointing out that the room Sayori was looking for was further down the hall.
And time passes, and you forget about the weird locked room in your friend's house. Mostly. But then the aforementioned friend offers you specifically a chance to see what's inside of there, and you reason, there's no other option here.
Natsuki doesn't know what she expects when Yuri opens the door, but it sure as hell isn't countless knives.
They're on the walls, on the furniture. A quick look at the room confirms to Natsuki that there's definitely even more inside of the furniture; in the drawers and behind glass doors.
It's not even just knives, Natsuki can spot a whole sword close to a corner.
They're all presented so... nicely, as if Yuri was planning to show them all to a large audience. They're shiny and they sparkle and somehow, they almost look pretty.
Natsuki thinks she forgets to breathe.
She's fairly confident that she's gotten pretty good at reading Yuri over the years, so when she looks back at her, she stares into big, mortified eyes. Probably worrying about Natsuki cutting contact with her after seeing all of this, regretting all her decisions up until this point.
Natsuki tries her goddamn best, to appear nonchalant, gesture towards the room, in a way that says tell me more.
That might be what does it, or it might not, Yuri looks like she's been stabbed before she looks away.
Well, curious choice of words.
Natsuki no longer in her sight, Yuri starts talking.
It feels erratic, frantic in the way it feels like she's never spoken about all of this out loud before, like she feels she won't get the chance to again.
Natsuki tries to listen and fails. She can't tell if Yuri's voice is steady and a river passing through her mind or if it's high-pitched and hurried, stuttering on every other word.
...It doesn't matter, does it.
Yuri has a weird hobby, a weird collection, who gives a shit. Natsuki doesn't think she has anything like that, but... an equivalent would be stripping and showing off each and every one of her scars, telling the story behind them. As if Yuri would care.
Natsuki won't be doing anything like that. But, if she wanted to, if the thought crossed her mind again, Yuri would be available.
She remembers the poems she wrote in high school and cringes inwardly. She made her read those. She has to write something good enough that it will permanently overwrite the memories of the old ones.
Natsuki tunes in and out, it feels like a long time. Every time she registers Yuri's presence again, she has the goofiest smile she's ever seen on her face. She's talking and explaining and holding up different kinds of pocket knives to show off to Natsuki.
And Natsuki wonders if she looks like that, when going on about baking and decorating.
And Natsuki feels really bad, because she hasn't been paying attention at all.
Yuri will probably scold her. At least, she hopes she does. Hopefully in that condescending tone she hasn't heard in a while.