Chapter Text
It’s the day after the festival.
I’m still a little worn out from walking the festival with Yuri. Especially that DDR duel we got into, but the thought of coming back to the Literature Club and seeing Yuri again is enough to keep me going.
I pull myself out of bed, take a quick shower, shovel a granola bar down my throat and head out my front door. Already, I can see Sayori waiting for me.
“Good morning, MC~” Sayori says, smiling that innocent smile of hers as if she didn’t just call me ‘MC’.
“Oh come on, Sayori!” I say, beginning to walk towards the school. “I write just one less-than-stellar rap as my poem, and now even you won’t stop calling me MC!”
Despite my protests, Sayori just giggles. I swear, she’s enjoying this little joke just as much as the others. But when she speaks again, she says something I wasn’t ready for.
“Ehehe~ The other girls might be making fun of you, but do you know why I call you ‘MC’?” she asks.
“Because you’re in on the joke?” I say.
Sayori pouts. “Oh come on MC! Give me more credit than that!” And then she was right back to smiling. “I call you ‘MC’ because I’m sure that you could be an awesome rapper someday, if you just put your mind to it!”
“Heh… Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, Sayori.” I say. Of course, I’m not all that passionate about becoming a rapper, but I’m not about to shut Sayori down when she’s trying to be supportive.
We keep on walking, only making a little more small talk on the way before we reach the front gates of the school and part ways.
The school day passes, but through the doldrum and monotony, I can tell that something isn’t quite right. When I got to the lunchroom, the guy I usually wind up sitting next to… Daichi was his name, I think. He wasn’t acting like himself at all. Usually, he would talk up a storm with anyone else nearby and treat us to his endless reserve of puns. I don’t really know the guy, but he usually made me smile at least once a day.
But today? He barely responded to anything. All he did was groan a few times, clutch his head and glare at anyone who engaged him for too long. He wolfed down his lunch like a madman, though. As if he’d gone hungry so long that he’d forgotten what chewing felt like. Daichi isn’t the only one acting strange either. A solid half of the student body is worryingly unresponsive. I really hope none of the Literature Club has the bug.
The day carries on, even more dead than usual. History class comes, and I tune out right when the teacher starts to discuss the formation of the United Prefectures of Japamerica. Yes, yes. FDR and Hirohito had a political marriage and our great nation was formed. Just don’t make me think about the honeymoon.
While I’m tuned out, I begin to think of the literature club, of Yuri, of what’s going on in my animes right now, and then it occurs to me. I haven’t heard any kind of government advisory about the bug going around. Nobody’s confirmed if it’s the flu, mad cow disease, a collective panic attack, or anything. I haven't even heard if the government was investigating or not. I ask around, and even the students who are lucid enough to talk are as clueless as I am. It’s like this illness just materialized this morning.
Hell… maybe I have it. Can’t tell if I’m sick or just so bored by the banality of my classes that I’m falling asleep. After what felt like a week of monotony and worrying about catching the bug, it’s finally time to go to the literature club. Thank God.
I walk up in that club, and the usual scene greets me. Natsuki’s off in the corner with her manga, Yuri’s at her desk with her horror novel, and Monika and Sayori are up at the front of the classroom with their conversations.
I take a seat at the desk next to Yuri. She glances over at me, but doesn’t protest. In fact, I see a smile grow on her face
“Sup, Yuri?” I say, scooching in a little closer.
“Oh, hello MC.” She responds, without any hint of her usual shyness. After all the experiences we’ve shared over the past week, I’m guessing she finally feels comfortable with me.
The two of us assume our reading position, but after a few minutes, it becomes clear that the two of us have far too much we want to talk about to focus on Markov or his portrait.
“You’re not still mad at me about that whole banana peel sniping thing, are you?” I ask, the memory of Yuri’s reaction to going from 1st to 7th in the last lap of Mario Kart fresh in my memory.
“Oh! No…” Yuri says, her cheeks reddening. “I do apologize for that outburst, though.”
“Hey. Mario Kart’s a ruthless game, Yuri.” I say. “In fact, I probably would have been even worse in your shoes.”
“Yes, but…” Yuri’s cheeks go even redder. “The way everyone stared at me. I don’t think I can show my face around them again.”
I put my hand on Yuri’s shoulder and look her in the eye. “C’mon Yuri. I watched them. They glanced in your direction and went right back to what they’re doing. I doubt any of them even remember by now.”
Yuri finds the strength to meet my eyes, and I can see my words starting to sink in on her face.
“...Promise?”
“I promise. Even I forgot until you brought it back up.” I say. Gradually, Yuri seems to coax herself out of whatever self-critical tear her mind had gone on before I spoke up.
“I… I did quite enjoy myself yesterday, MC…” Yuri says, even daring to let herself smile. “Thank you… for sharing it with me.”
I smile and put a hand on Yuri’s shoulder. “I had a great time too. Let’s do something like that again some time, eh?”
Yuri lowers her head, I suspect she’s trying to hide a blush behind her hair. “Yes. That sounds wonderful...” Her head snaps back up. The expression on her face makes me wonder if she left the oven on back home. “Once this illness that seems to be going around has subsided, that is.”
“Whoa. Yeah, good call.” I say. I’d gotten so wrapped up in Yuri’s presence that I’d forgotten all about the bug. “Speaking of, what’s your take on all this?”
Yuri sighs and holds one arm in the other. “I’ve a feeling that this is a portent of something truly terrible…”
We never left our reading position, so it’s quite easy for me to put an arm around Yuri and pull her close. “Yuri… Remember what I said about your mind turning small things into big, horrible things?”
Yuri says nothing, but gives me a look that says she’s listening.
“It’s probably just a particularly nasty flu. Just give it a few days, and if things get worse, then you start worrying, alright?”
Yuri puts her head on my shoulder. I wasn’t expecting that, but I’m not about to stop her.
“Alright. I’ll trust you, MC…” she says, almost whispering. The moment is so tender and warm that I can ignore the fact that she called me MC.
I hear Natsuki huffing with annoyance behind me. Whatever. Why should I care what she thinks? She’s like someone in a restaurant getting annoyed at me eating Tuna when she personally dislikes Tuna.
After a few blissful seconds, Monika cuts it short.
“Okay, everyone! It’s time to share p-”
[SLAM]
Someone throws the door to the classroom open, and everyone stops dead in their tracks when they hear the noise.
We all see a male student standing in the doorway, his posture limp. His glazed over, grey eyes stare into nothing. It looks like he tried to rip his collar off, but forgot what buttons were and just clawed it off with his fingernails. For a few heavy seconds, he just stands there, muttering gibberish to himself.
Monika is the first to break the silence. “Ahaha… Can we help you?” she says, glancing over to us with a highly uncomfortable smile.
While everyone else looks a little weirded out by the stranger’s behavior, there’s something different about Yuri’s expression. It looks more like outright fear. As if she recognized this guy for all the wrong reasons.
“Yuri? You okay?” I ask.
“I hoped he would never find me here…” She says, grasping one of her wrists as she tunnel visions on the intruder.
Oh, I don’t like the implications of that one bit…
Especially considering that look in his eyes. Like he’s one harsh word from ripping someone’s throat out with his teeth.
“Toxic ex?” I venture, keeping myself talking to try and hold my nerves together.
“Wha-? Certainly not!” Yuri says, perhaps a bit louder than she’d meant to. The student in question briefly looks in Yuri’s direction with a startled noise, but quickly refocused on Monika.
At least that got her looking at me, rather than the guy who’s been giving her trouble.
“No. He’s… made a habit of seeking me out as I read and…” Yuri trails off and shakes her head. I fear the worst, but maybe she’s just struggling to find the right phrasing.
“He gives you shit?” I ask.
“That’s an apt summary, yes.” She says. “Mockery, attempts at snatching my book, threats to spread rumors…”
I’ve heard enough.
“Yo. Asshole. The fourth grade classroom is that way.” I snap at the gurgling, limp-postured student. No response.
As this goes on, the strange student seems more and more agitated. His quiet mumbling turns into a throaty moan of anger. Kind of like someone trying to gargle while doing a death metal growl.
Natsuki gets about halfway through asking “What the hell is your problem?” before the student lunges at Monika. Whatever’s wrong with him, I just know in the pit of my stomach that he’s going to try and kill her.