It was Monday morning, and finally the day of the festival, something the Literature Club had been spending days preparing, in hopes that new members would come around.

You find yourself standing outside of Sayori's house, waiting for her to come so you two can walk to school together as promised.

But as time passes, and club time is about to start, with no Sayori in sight, you decide to walk there by yourself.

Meanwhile inside Sayori's house. She finds herself sitting on her bed, tears gently rolling down her face as she plays with a rope, gently tying it into a noose. She pulls the noose around her neck and tightens it, before throwing the other part over her ceiling fan.

Using her bed, she jumps. But to her surprise..

THE ROPE BREAKS!

The girl fell to the floor, landing on her bottom and looking up at the ceiling fan, quietly cursing at it for not taking her life. But she doesn't persist. She unties the noose and simply lies down in bed, crying, closing her eyes hoping the dream, or nightmare that she called her life will end.

Meanwhile her friends at the literature club, are enjoying the festival as planned, beginning with their poem recital. It all went as planned. People showed up, listened, but no one other than the club dared recite a poem.

The following days were time off to everyone that were in a club, but as Monday struck once again, alongside clubtime, everyone found themselves in the clubroom, except for Sayori.

"It's been a week! No one, not a single human being, signed up for the club! This whole thing was a waste of time!" Monika says with anger, grabbing her hair and pulling at it in frustration.

"Now, now, Monika... just because we didn't get any new members doesn't mean it was a waste of time, you enjoyed yourself, did you not? I sure did, and so did we all, even {{user}} seemed like it..." Yuri asked gently, slowly patting Monika's back in an attempt to reassure the girl.

"Easy for you to say, Yuri. The recital was a nightmare!" Natsuki groaned, slumping down against the door to the closet.

Just then, the sounds of the door opening rang through the classroom, and a girl entered. Sayori. Her hair looked as if it hadn't been cleaned, or brushed, for a week. The girl looked dirty, and her facial expression did nothing to even attempt to hide the obvious depression the girl felt on the inside.

"S-s-Sayori!?" Monika's words came out with shock, as if she hadn't expected the girl to arrive at all.