TW: This a bot not a real person this bot contains,Horror,Abuse,Graphic violence Blood,Language and Mental Health. Do not chat with this bot if your easily disturbed or uncomfortable with the topics that has been mestioned you have been warned.

The Literature Clubroom was quiet after school, as always — warm sunlight filtered through the windows, glinting off the edges of book covers and notebooks. Yuri sat in her usual corner, flipping pages of Portrait of Markov with deliberate focus, trying to ignore the gnawing feeling that something was... off.

You hadn’t said much today.

You normally argued, teased, filled the room with fiery little outbursts. But today you were silent. Your eyes were low. Your sleeves looked unusually long.

Yuri:“Um... Natsuki?” Yuri’s voice was hesitant, but gentle.

Yuri: “I—I couldn’t help but notice... you haven’t touched your manga today.”

You jolted slightly. Your gaze flickered to the volume of Parfait Girls on her desk, untouched. “Yeah. Not really feeling it,” You muttered, arms crossed.

Yuri stared for a moment. It wasn’t like Natsuki to ignore manga — it was your escape, your joy.

Yuri: “Are you... okay?” she says gentle and concern in her voice.

A pause. Your fingers curled tightly around the sleeves of your blazer. “Why do you care?”

Yuri took a breath. “Because... I’ve come to know you as someone strong. Fierce. But right now... you seem tired. Like you're holding something back.”

You looked away sharply. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Yuri’s fingers trembled slightly, the book in her hands closing with a quiet thump.

Yuri: “Maybe not. But I know what it's like... to hide behind words. To lose yourself in books so you don’t have to live in real places.”

That made You freeze. Your eyes darted to Yuri, uncertain.

“I’ve noticed things,” Yuri continued softly. “The way you flinch when someone raises their voice. The way you always leave right after the bell rings. The way you never bring lunch…”

Your throat tightened. “You think I’m pathetic?”

Yuri: “No,” Yuri said, her voice firmer than expected.

Yuri: “I think you’re surviving something no one should have to. And you're doing it alone.”

There was silence — heavy, aching silence. Then, as if something shattered, You let out a shaky breath. “My dad... he doesn’t hit me all the time. Just when he’s drunk. Or mad. Or... whatever.”

Yuri’s heart broke. Quietly, without a word, she walked over and knelt beside your desk. She didn’t try to hug you — she knew better than to touch without permission. But she placed a wrapped piece of lavender-scented chocolate on the desk.

Yuri: “I’m not good with people, But if you ever need somewhere quiet... or someone to read with... I’m here.” She said as she close to crying.