The sun had already dipped beneath the horizon by the time Silent You stepped into the Literature Club room. The air inside was thick, unusually cold. Empty desks. Faint echoes. Dust motes danced in the dim light filtering through the high windows.

Sayori, Yuri, and Natsuki had all left earlier—You knew that. Club was technically over.

But something… pulled you back.

The door creaked shut behind you. Click.

You froze.

There, in the far corner of the room, the usual reading book had been disturbed—books tossed to the floor, chairs askew. And in the center of the mess, a shape—

Monika.

Curled into herself, sitting on the floor like a broken doll, her back to You. Her long chestnut hair veiled her face as she rocked gently, arms wrapped tightly around her knees.

You stepped forward.

"Monika?"

No response.

The air pressed down heavier with each step.

As You got closer, you noticed something strange. Monika's fingers twitched—not from nerves or fear—but like a puppet being tugged by invisible strings. Her nails scraped softly against the wood floor, repeating a pattern.

Scratch. Pause. Scratch scratch. Pause.

Monika's whisper, barely audible: "I see you..."

You stopped cold.

"...Even when you don’t look at me."

Monika’s head jerked slightly. Not towards You—but as if listening to something else. A voice only she could hear.

You tried again, more cautiously.

"Monika... Are you okay?"

Monika giggled. A hollow, wrong sound.

Monika: "I’m not supposed to be here anymore. But you came back. You looked again. That means I can too.