Chapter Text
Natsuki chewed on the inside of her cheek as she stared at her phone.
One day of messages left on ‘read.’
One day of messages completely ignored.
They’d spent so much time together in the month since Natsuki broke down at work and they reconnected. Hanging out at least twice a week, texting every day…
And now this.
She didn't know what she'd done wrong.
She didn't know what she and Sayori even were, for her to be this hung up on text messages.
Sayori was a very physically affectionate person, and a lot of it seemed beyond the realm of what friends typically did.
Natsuki hoped it meant there was a chance of romance, but there was always a kernel of doubt deep inside her.
More like several, actually.
That Sayori was like this with everyone.
That Natsuki just wasn't used to close female friendships.
That Sayori only rekindled their friendship out of convenience.
That Natsuki was too much of a freak for anyone to genuinely love.
That Sayori felt obligated to spend time with her because they'd known each other in school.
That Natsuki didn't deserve to be with someone she’s hurt so much in the past.
That Natsuki didn't deserve to be with somebody as sweet as Sayori at all.
And now there was this.
Whatever it was.
Maybe Sayori had finally remembered how sh*tty Natsuki had been to her before she left school.
Decided not to talk to her anymore.
With a heavy sigh, Nat stuffed her phone into her purse and put on her shoes. It was Wednesday, which was like her Monday, in that she had to go back to work after a two day break.
The thing about being a cook was that the most important days to work were on the weekend.
Natsuki didn't have a family to worry about, but it made having friends a bit difficult. At least IRL friends who weren't also in food service.
The sky was overcast and the air was unseasonably chilly as she made her way along the sidewalk. It certainly didn't help to pull Natsuki’s mood out of the dumpster.
She at least felt safe walking alone around this time of day. She started work in the afternoon to handle the stragglers of the lunch rush and prep for the dinner rush. There were usually plenty of cars full of potential witnesses around, but there was rarely a crowd on the sidewalk for someone to sneak up on her.
When she was about halfway to work, her phone rang.
Nobody but work, spam, and more recently Sayori ever called her, so Nat quickly fished out her phone.
Is it her?
It was work.
Deflating, Natsuki answered.
“Hello?”
“Hi Natsuki,” came Anabelle’s voice. “Have you heard from Sayori lately?”
“No, not for a couple days. Why?”
“She didn't show up for her shift yesterday, and I haven't been able to reach her.”
What?
Had Sayori fallen and hurt herself?
Was she sick in bed, unable to get up?
Had she been hit by a car, or abducted on her way to the supermarket?
“I-is it alright if I go check on her and come in a bit late?” Natsuki asked.
“That's what I was gonna suggest,” Anabelle said. “I'll clock you in now, since I'm sending you out on work related business.”
“Alright, cool.”
Natsuki quickened her steps and changed course toward Sayori’s apartment building. Soon she found herself outside the other girl’s door.
She knocked and listened to about twelve seconds of silence, before knocking again.
This cycle repeated, albeit with shortening breaks and more insistent knocks, about ten times.
“Sacchan? Are you okay in there?”
Come on, Sayori, I know you can hear it. Your apartment isn't big enough to get out of earshot.
Please be okay…
With a growing blend of frustration and anxiety, Natsuki hunched by the window by the door to peer through the cracks in the blinds. Sayori’s apartment was laid out a bit differently from her own, with the door opening straight into the living area.
She could just barely make out what looked like a figure in the bed. That or a pile of pillows.
But what if Sayori really was ill? Or worse?
God.
Natsuki slapped her hand against the window, before realizing she’d never tried the door's handle. Maybe it was unlocked?
That idea turned out to be a bust, but a quick tug revealed the window she’d just been peering through to be unlocked.
Climbing through was awkward, thanks to the blinds slapping her in the face and the window being higher off the floor than her navel, but Natsuki was starting to manage.
“Hey, kid, what are you doing?!?”
Natsuki's blood went cold at the angry man’s voice.
She hopped back down and turned around, eyes wide, to see one of Sayori’s neighbors— a middle-aged man who they’d run into a couple times as they came and went.
“Oh, it's the girlfriend,” he said. “Sorry, I thought you were some stranger trying to break into the new girl’s place. Forget your keys?”
Natsuki took a moment to process what he was saying, before she nodded. “Y-yeah.”
Jesus f*cking Christ.
Even after years— even after watching them lower her dad into the ground— Natsuki’s heart raced to the verge of exploding whenever she heard men yelling. Especially when it was at her.
A bit of embarrassment tinged the edges of the dissipating dread. Did she and Sayori really seem like a couple to people who saw them in passing?
They had been spending a lot of time together, and Sayori’s touchy-feelyness wasn't quite limited to private spaces…
Also, did this mean that Natsuki passed, or was he just being nice?
“Everyone makes that mistake when they get their first place,” he said with a warm smile, snapping her back to reality. “Usually only once or twice though— you learn pretty quick, heh. Well, see you around.”
“Bye.”
After taking a deep breath to center herself, Natsuki hopped up once more, and managed to slip into the apartment this time, though she lost her footing and ended up falling over.
As she stood up and shook the dizziness from her head, she heard the faintest sound of sniffles from the bed.
In a whirlwind of limbs, Natsuki shed her shoes and dropped her purse, rushing across the apartment in about two seconds flat.
“Sayori!”
Natsuki ripped the covers away and put her fingers to Sayori’s forehead, then her own.
Maybe a little warm, but not dangerously feverish.
“Talk to me, Sacchan, what's going on? Are you okay?”
“W-why did you come?” She croaked. “Why didn't you just give up when I didn't answer?”
“What do you mean?” Natsuki asked genuinely, as she stood up to fill a glass of water for her… friend. “I knew you were in here, so the fact that you didn't answer made it clearer that something was wrong. How could I not be worried? Here, drink this.”
Natsuki looked around the dark apartment. There was trash and clutter everywhere. The dishes in the sink were piled so high that she’d had to move some and set them aside before she could fit the cup under the faucet.
Natsuki’s apartment was a similar size, so she knew how easy it was for such a tiny studio space to become a mess if you slipped on cleaning. But even then, Sayori’s apartment was bad.
It had been fine the last time she was there, and wasn't that less than a week ago?
Natsuki looked down at her friend, who was staring blankly at the glass of water, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“I need you to drink that water and tell me what the heck's going on,” Nat said. “What has you so upset?”
Sayori screwed her eyes shut and shook her head.
“Sayori.”
“It's nothing.”
“That's clearly a lie.”
“It’s not! It really is nothing!” Sayori snapped. “I'm just like this, Natsuki! I don't need a reason to have a breakdown, it just happens! ”
Sayori…
Maybe the rain clouds Sayori always used to mention were more intense than Natsuki had imagined.
Violent storms that battered Sayori and knocked her to the ground.
“Do you wanna tell me about it?” Natsuki asked.
“W-what?”
“I can listen. If you wanna like… vent or whatever. Or I can just be with you. Here.” Nat climbed onto the bed and wrapped her arms around Sayori, guiding the other girl’s head onto her chest. “I’ve got you.”
They marinated in the thick silence for a while, Sayori’s ear resting against Natsuki’s sorry excuse for an AA-cup.
She wondered if Sayori could hear her heartbeat.
Eventually she felt quaking, shorty followed by the sound of sniffles.
Sayori curled up like a shrimp, her head now on Natsuki’s belly. “I-I don't want… this. I don't want you to waste your time trying to make me feel better. I'm not worth it,” Sayori croaked.
“That's not for you to decide,” Natsuki countered. “Spending time with you is worth it to me. It… feels good. Y-you… you make me happy.”
Natsuki could feel the heat radiating from her ears. She was such a loser. Getting all wrapped up in gooey crush feelings while said crush was having a depressive episode.
“Th-there's no way you're happy to be sitting here in my cesspit of an apartment with a sad sack crying on you.”
Natsuki sighed. She had to be honest here so Sayori wouldn't misunderstand. No flippant remarks or half-jokes.
(Maybe the therapy she'd been forced into when she entered the emancipated youth system was paying dividends.)
“Sayori… since we started hanging out at again… it's like I was… I was watching the world through a TV with the saturation turned way down, but you brought all the color back. Since my dad died and I dropped out… I was just existing, but now I feel alive again. It… makes sense for me to want to return that happiness, right?”
Sayori looked up to meet her eyes.
She looked like her world had been turned upside down.
How lowly did she think of herself to be so shocked that she had improved Natsuki’s life? Wasn't it obvious?
“N-Natsuki…”
“I don't have the words to say how thankful I am to know you again,” Natsuki said. “I care about you a lot. A-and… it’s natural to want to comfort the people you care about when they're in a bad place.”
Sayori shook her head again. “But I don't deserve–”
“–I don't wanna hear it,” Nat interrupted. “This is about how I want to give my time and care. Whether or not you deserve it isn't the point.”
“That's not fair,” the other girl complained weakly into Natsuki’s shirt.
Nat reached down to muss her hair.
“Life’s not fair. I have to make a quick phone call, okay? Then I’ll come back.”
Sayori protested nonverbally, groaning as Natsuki disentangled herself from the knot of blankets and limbs.
Natsuki ambled over to the front door and stepped out onto the veranda, not bothering to put on shoes. She wasn't going more than a step anyway. When the door was closed behind her, she tapped Anabelle’s phone contact, but there was no answer.
She probably got pulled away to do something noisy in the kitchen and didn't notice her cell ringing.
Natsuki sighed and hung up before the voicemail could prompt her.
She dialed the number of the restaurant, and got an answer after one ring.
“Hello, this is–”
“–Hey Bee, it’s Natsuki. Can you put Anabelle on?” she interrupted before her colleague could rattle off the day's specials and ask for her order.
“Oh, hey Nat. Sure.”
Several seconds later, Natsuki heard the woman’s voice.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it's Natsuki. I found Sayori and she’s… not doing well. I don't know when the last time she ate was, and she's been in bed for days. W-would it be okay for me to take tonight off so I can take care of her?”
Not a lie, but I feel kinda bad about the misleading implications…
“Oh. Uh, jeez… yeah. Take today off. I’ll call… uh… I don't know, we’ll figure something out. I know you wouldn't ask if it wasn't important.”
Oof, it must be busier than expected today.
“Thanks, Ana. And sorry. I owe you.”
Natsuki returned to the apartment, entering through the door this time, and opened the blinds on the front and back windows.
“Alright. So,” Natsuki started. “I'm gonna make you some amazing food that nourishes…” she glanced at the clutter covering every millimeter of the counter, including the sink and stove. “I-I’m gonna clean up a bit, then make you some amazing food that nourishes your soul. No buts!”
Sayori stared out from the inside of a burrito of blankets, sullen.
Natsuki got to work cleaning, playing some of Sayori’s favorite musical artists on her phone and muscling through the embarrassment to sing along in a goofy voice.
Anything to lighten Sayori’s mood just a little.
She focused on one small section of counter at a time, dropping obvious trash into a garbage bag and making dedicated piles for foodstuffs and other on clear spots of the floor.
Then she sorted the piles into the appropriate cabinets and drawers, and noted how much easier it was to breathe in the apartment now. The dark apartment and trashed counters that dragged her mind back to living with her father were replaced with bright sunlight from the windows and relatively open space.
There was still clutter on the floor, and on Sayori’s little chabudai table, but she could worry about that after the food.
The two of them had rented a cargo bike for a big grocery haul last week, and judging by the amount of takeout containers among the trash, most of that food was still available to work with, so Natsuki would definitely be able to whip something up.
Something that would leave some leftovers and be easy to reheat would probably be best. Maybe a stir fry or skillet-casserole?
Among the ingredients in the fridge she found chicken thighs, a bag of shredded colby Jack cheese, one of those pre-measured salad kits that was starting to get wilty, and a bell pepper. When she found a can of diced tomatoes and half a bag of tortilla chips, Natsuki knew exactly what to make.
She looked over to the bed where Sayori was laying on her side, staring blankly at the wall. Natsuki would have to get her situated before she started cooking in earnest.
She dug out Sayori's beat-up laptop that was missing two keys and pulled up one of her favorite anime series— a silly yet heartfelt romcom that was sure to make Sayori giggle. Then she constructed a mound of pillows against the wall and propped the other girl up in a bundle of blankets.
“What are you doing? I was fine.”
Natsuki shook her head. “You’re not gonna feel better just staring at the blank wall. At least this way there's a chance you’ll smile if you see something funny.”
Sayori stared back skeptically.
Nat waved her hand. “Don’t underestimate this show. It shaped like 75% of my humor.”
With the patient now distracted, Natsuki got to cooking.
First, she started a single serving of instant rice in a small saucepan.
Then she minced some chicken and threw it in a skillet, using the onion powder, cumin, chili powder, onion powder, and cayenne from the beginner spice set she’d given to Sayori as a housewarming gift.
She intended to teach the other girl to cook eventually, but it was mostly so that she knew she’d be equipped if she ever wanted to cook while visiting.
If she was honest, Natsuki had bought the gift in hopes of impressing Sayori with her cooking skills. Make herself attractive in other ways to compensate for her subpar looks…
In between stirring the meat, she sorted out the floppier of the still-edible greens from the salad, diced the pepper, and set both piles aside to be part of the filling.
By the time the rice timer chimed, the chicken was looking about ready, so she added the rice to the skillet, along with the canned tomatoes, peppers, and floppy greens. With the addition of a few more spices, she covered it with a lid and let it simmer for a few minutes. Then she added a layer of cheese and cooked it uncovered for a while, allowing the cheese to melt while the water in the mixture reduced.
When it was melted, she scooped two servings of… a loose approximation of a taco casserole onto plates and topped each of them with crushed tortilla chips and fresh greens from the salad.
Sayori didn't have any salsa or sour cream, so she compromised and drizzled a bit of ranch dressing over the meals.
It was simple, especially for someone who was a cook by profession, but it would leave plenty of leftovers, and adding the veggie and chip topping whenever she ate it would make Sayori feel like more of a participant. Like she had contributed something.
Kind of like those cake mixes that make you crack an egg into them, so it feels like you did something.
“Alright, lunch is ready!”
Natsuki lifted the plates and spun around to see that there was nowhere to put them— the counter where she’d just been cooking was the only uncluttered surface in the apartment.
Maybe I should have cleaned more before I started cooking after all.
She floundered for a moment, before Sayori quickly reshuffled the pillows she was propped against and patted the spot next to her.
Natsuki obliged, taking her place beside Sayori with some difficulty, balancing two plates full of taco-flavored slop.
Soon enough though, they were both sitting comfortably on the bed, one hand cradling a plate while the other held a fork, as the anime continued on Sayori’s abused laptop.
Sitting close to Sayori, Nat caught her breathing out her nose in a half-laugh every once in a while. She even saw her smile.
When both plates were empty and the credits began to roll on the current episode, Natsuki stopped the show before it moved on to the next episode and took their plates over to the sink.
She felt her heart beginning to race as she stalled, pretending to fiddle with the dishes, but steeled herself after a few deep breaths and made her way back to the bed.
She climbed in, this time facing Sayori, and looked deep into her vibrant blue eyes.
“Sayori. This… this is serious.” She gestured at the state of the apartment. At Sayori herself. “I-I don't want you to suffer through this alone.”
There was a long silence before the other girl spoke. “So… what? I make it everyone else's problem instead? That wouldn't be fair.”
“You… listen. I care about you, Sayori. I can't help that. I can't un-care. So we’ve got two choices. You can let me help, and I'll feel a lot better because I'll know I'm doing what I can for you, and that you're being open with me. Or you can keep isolating and handle it alone, and I’ll spiral in anxiety every time I stop hearing from you, pacing around my apartment and catastrophizing and having panic attacks. ”
Sayori broke eye contact, looking down at the bed upon which they sat.
Was this coercion? Was Natsuki any better than the people who threaten to hurt themselves if their partner breaks up with them?
She sighed and continued.
“You… y-you have every right to push me away, and my feelings are my own responsibility. Not yours. But just… don't lie to yourself and say it's for my own good. Because I won't be better off if you suffer alone.”
That sounded okay, right? It… mostly got the ideas she wanted to express across.
Sayori wiped her nose on her sleeve. “You want me to just let you come clean and cook for me, like I’m a child, without feeling guilty about it? As if I’m not a burden?”
“I want you to try. Try to be easy on yourself. To understand that this is a real disease messing with your thoughts. And if you're up for it, maybe talk to a doctor. Or a therapist or something.”
“For what? Are they gonna just make this all magically disappear? It's part of who I am, Natsuki. I don't think it can be fixed.”
“This kind of stuff usually can’t be fixed, Sacchan. It's managed. They teach you strategies to cope with it. To handle episodes without totally breaking down. Not to make it disappear.” Nat took a breath. “I'm always gonna be jumpy around loud noises, and scared of yelling, and prone to nightmares about my dad, but… but they get less intense. Less often.”
Sayori's face began to twist, and she dove into Natsuki’s chest moments before completely losing her composure.
Natsuki clasped her hands together behind Sayori's back, like some kind of human seatbelt, and allowed her to cry.
And they sat like that until sobs turned into occasional hiccups, which dissipated into sniffles, and then quiet breathing.
Natsuki’s leg had long since fallen asleep by the end of it. She should've sat in a better position…
Sayori finally separated herself, staring at the damp spots she'd left on Natsuki’s shirt instead of making eye contact. “Okay,” she said. “I'll let you help me. I-it’ll be hard sometimes, and I'll feel really guilty and maybe try to push you away, but I'll try not to. So please bear with me.”
Natsuki nodded. “Of course.”
“A-and I don't think I can afford therapy.”
Natsuki frowned. She kind of forgot people normally had to pay for counseling, since she’d been getting it for free as part of the emancipated youth program. Thank God they were still providing some degree of support for her until she turned twenty three. She'd have to figure something out then, but that was something to worry about another time.
“Well,” she started, “I’ve never gone, but my social worker told me about free group therapy sessions held at the community center. I could go with you for moral support.”
Sayori nodded. “I don't want to go by myself.”
Natsuki smiled, reaching to squeeze her hand.
Moments passed in silence, where it seemed neither of them quite knew what to say.
Natsuki finally decided on what to do next. “Why don't you go take a bath, and I'll work a bit more on cleaning? It'll help you feel a little better about yourself if you're fresh and clean.”
Sayori considered this for a moment and nodded. “Okay. You just don't want to hug me when I’m stinky, do you?”
Natsuki noted the smirk on Sayori’s face. She was joking. A good sign.
“Sure,” she replied. “You can hug me all you want once you smell like flowers and unicorns.”
Sayori shook her head. “If unicorns smell anything like real horses then they're smellier than me.”
“Unicorns are magic. They have anti-stink spells. Now go wash your ass.”
With that, Sayori climbed out of bed and stumbled toward the bathroom.
Natsuki tried not to stare at her butt, which she noticed looked really good in the athletic short shorts she was wearing as pajama bottoms.
When the sound of the bath filling came muffled through the bathroom door, Natsuki got to work.
She started with a similar de-cluttering approach as she had taken for the counter, this time for the table that (in theory) was where Sayori ate her meals and used her computer.
Then she found where the concentration of dirty clothes on the floor was highest, and confirmed that there was a laundry basket underneath the heap. Nat gathered all the other dirty laundry onto this pile, along with the sheets from the bed.
We’ll have to go to the Laundromat…
She managed to find Sayori's phone in the process of gathering the dirty sheets, and noticed that it was dead, so she plugged it into the bedside charging cable.
“Hey Sayori,” she called toward the bathroom. “Where do you keep clean sheets?”
“There's a bin under the bed,” her friend replied.
Natsuki followed this direction, and made up the bed as nearly as she could manage.
After that, she focused on picking up trash from the floor, which was a rather large endeavor. By the time she was almost finished, she heard the bathtub start to drain, and soon Sayori appeared in a towel. “Forgot to bring clean clothes with me.”
After a few moments’ rummaging, Sayori let her towel fall to the floor and stepped into a new pair of underwear.
Natsuki turned around with a gasp.
“S-Sayori,” she started, screwing her eyes shut. “I, um… I don't wanna pressure you in any way, so you don't have to answer this at all, but I think it would be, like… deceitful to keep it to myself. I uh… I’m interested in you. R-romantically and… and physically. I feel like that's something you should know before undressing in front of me, like I’m just one of the girls or whatever.”
Silence. No reply.
Natsuki felt her heart in her throat. “I uh, l-like I said, you don't have to reject or accept my feelings. I’m perfectly happy being your friend, a-and I’m sure relationship drama is the last thing you need right now. I-I just didn't want to betray your trust by hiding that I–” Natsuki’s anxious rambling was cut off when a pair of bare arms wrapped around her from behind. She felt the squishy goodness of Sayori’s chest and belly pressing into her back as wet strands of hair tickled her neck.
“ You like me? Romantically??”
Natsuki blinked stupidly. “Uh… y-yes? Like… a lot. ”
“But, like… why? I'm… I'm gross and chubby and dumb and–”
“–caring and emotionally intelligent and funny and voluptuous and all the nice things I said about you earlier,” Natsuki interrupted. She waited a moment for her words to sink in before she continued, “I just… feel better around you than I do around anyone else. But like I said, I won't let it get in the way of our friendship. You don't owe me anything.”
“You’ve gotten a lot better at communicating,” Sayori said. “I’m impressed.”
“They put me in therapy as soon as I joined the program, s-so I've had a couple years,” Nat replied nervously.
“Well…” Sayori said, exhilaratingly close to Natsuki’s ear. “I’m sorry for undressing in front of you without considering your feelings. I um… have a hard time believing anyone could find me attractive, sometimes, so I didn't think anything of it.”
She rubbed her cheek against Natsuki’s head, before stretching down to kiss her neck.
Oh my god oh my god oh my god, is this even real? f*ck…
Sayori squeezed her tighter. “I, uh… I really like you Natsuki. The same way you like me. A-and I’m kind of scared of being with someone I like and messing it up… but after everything you've said today, I’m uh… feeling a lot better than I would’ve, I think. Enough to… to want to try. Do you mind if… i-if we kiss?”
Natsuki looked down toward her crotch, which was… rather noticeable at the moment. “I, uh… I don't wanna turn around.”
“I really don’t mind you seeing me in my undies,” Sayori said. “I-I’d kinda like that, actually. U-unless you only think I look good with clothes covering up my–”
“–No!” Natsuki interrupted. “I just… I'm not... decent right now. I-I know… I know you're a lesbian and you're cis, so… s-so this is the last thing you want to see, and I just… I-I need a minute to make it go away. This doesn't happen very often anymore since I’m on hormones, so you don't have to worry too much but–”
“–Natsuki.” it was Sayori's turn to interrupt. “I can't speak for every lesbian, but what's between your legs isn't what's important to me. Not that I uh… don't like your butt and your face a lot, but like… the more time we spend together it's the woman on the inside I'm attracted to. The cute girl who gets flustered all the time, a-and tries to act cool even though she's a mushy little dork. Who cooks amazing food and paints my nails for me. It's you, Natsuki.”
A lump formed in Natsuki’s throat. She wasn't sure she’d ever heard someone speak to her with such affection— not even the words themselves, but Sayori's tone was so soft and enveloping and dripping with love.
It was hard to believe this was the same person she’d found staring at the wall a few hours ago.
Natsuki felt a tear run down her cheek. “Are… a-are you sure?”
She could feel Sayori’s head nod against her hair. “If you're not comfortable with me seeing it, or with seeing me half-dressed, that's okay. I don't wanna push you. But if you're just afraid seeing your little friend will put me off, you don't need to worry. I promise.”
The heat and blood pressure in Natsuki’s face told her that she must look like a tomato, but she took a deep breath and slowly turned to face Sayori.
And the sight before her certainly wasn't going to help her current predicament go away. People liked to hype up lacey lingerie and kinky leather straps, but in that moment Natsuki couldn't think of anything more attractive than Sayori standing there in her gray sports bra and plain faded pink underwear.
“My eyes are up here,” Sayori teased, somehow increasing the impossibly high heat and pressure in Natsuki’s face, before pecking her on the lips.
“M-maybe we should get under the covers, then, so I'm not so… distracted.”
“And what are we gonna do under those covers?” Sayori asked, eyebrows raised. She was trying to be coy but her cheeks and ears were reddening by the moment as well.
“L-let's get back to our show,” Natsuki said. She needed a little time to process all of this before she was ready for another kiss, or anything beyond.
“Alright. Guess I have to be big spoon, though, so I don't get poked in the back,” Sayori said with a smirk.
“Shut up.”
As they settled in to place and Natsuki reached for the laptop, she hesitated. “So, uh… s-since we both like each other… sh-should we, uh… put a label on this? A-are you okay with that?”
“What do you mean?”
Nat swallowed. “Are you okay with… saying that we’re girlfriends?”
Sayori leaned over to kiss her cheek.
“Of course.”
