[His hand in her hair feels nice, an anchor against the roiling riptide of all the information around them. Mista is always so nice to her. Almost everyone in the Bureau has been really nice to her--what can she possibly do to deserve that except be the umbrella when they have little rainclouds? To make sure they can smile even when she feels like she has no bottles left to give?
The voice all around them is no longer the one that may be Monika--it's Sayori, but she hasn't opened her mouth to speak. It's a Sayori that wasn't, a Sayori that could have been, giving voice to the profound gratitude inside of her.] I wanted to thank you for spending so much time with us all...
Only someone who truly cares about the Literature Club would go that far.
[She sniffles.] I should... [No. Shoulds and shouldn'ts are made up.] ...I wanted to tell you...before. But...
[But.
Even worse than the little devil inside of her, the devil she knows, how do you tell someone you might not be real?]
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The voice all around them is no longer the one that may be Monika--it's Sayori, but she hasn't opened her mouth to speak. It's a Sayori that wasn't, a Sayori that could have been, giving voice to the profound gratitude inside of her.] I wanted to thank you for spending so much time with us all...
Only someone who truly cares about the Literature Club would go that far.
[She sniffles.] I should... [No. Shoulds and shouldn'ts are made up.] ...I wanted to tell you...before. But...
[But.
Even worse than the little devil inside of her, the devil she knows, how do you tell someone you might not be real?]