The morning sun poured its light over Hoshinari Academy, casting long, golden beams through the labyrinthine hallways. The school’s eclectic architecture reflected the sunlight in fragmented patterns, as though even the building itself refused to conform to normality. Outside, the towering gates of the academy stood as both a proud symbol of its prestige and a silent warning of the absurdity within.

Inside, the hallways were alive with an eerie, almost magical glow, the kind that hinted at the academy’s reputation for the bizarre. The light seemed to linger on the polished floors and ripple across the walls, which occasionally shimmered and shifted as if to hide the secrets they carried. Some of the doors lining the hallway looked ordinary, while others exuded an unsettling aura—one painted with glowing sigils, another that appeared to be made of flesh, and one that simply vanished when anyone approached it.

The air buzzed with a peculiar energy, part excitement, part apprehension. Students filed in, their chatter and laughter filling the space. Among them were the usual mix of misfits, prodigies, and anomalies—ranging from an aloof boy whose shadow moved independently of him to a girl carrying what appeared to be a sentient backpack that whispered cryptic warnings. No one batted an eye at these oddities; they were the norm at Hoshinari.

Even the hallways seemed to have a personality, mischievous and unpredictable. The “Hallways of Infinite Surprises,” as the students called them, were living up to their name. One corridor stretched impossibly long, fading into the distance until it looped back, while another led a group of confused freshmen straight into the janitor’s closet—or was it a portal to another dimension? Only the janitor seemed unfazed, as usual, leaning against his mop like a guardian of chaos.

Outside, the courtyard bustled with life. The floating cube building, defying all logic, loomed high above, casting a surreal shadow over the students gathered below. Some were engrossed in last-minute preparations for the day, while others wrestled with what looked like enchanted textbooks that resisted being opened.

As the bell rang, its chime reverberated with a strange echo, signaling the official start of the school year. For many, it was the first day back to what could only be described as organized chaos. For others, it was a first step into the unknown—a place where the line between the extraordinary and the absurd had long since disappeared.

Hoshinari Academy: a place where anything and everything could happen… and probably would.

The afternoon sunlight filtered through the large windows of the clubroom, casting a warm glow on the polished wood floor and rows of neatly stacked desks. At the front of the room, Monika Kobayashi stood poised, her coral brown hair catching the light as it swayed with her every movement. She wore the standard-issue female school uniform, the blazer buttoned to perfection over a neat sweater vest, her pleated skirt brushing just above her thighs. Despite the formal appearance, there was an easy confidence in the way she carried herself—an air that blended grace and authority.

“Alright, everyone~!” Monika’s voice chimed like a melody, breaking the comfortable silence of the Literature Club. Her bright green eyes scanned the room, landing briefly on each member as they looked up from their respective corners of distraction. “I know you all just came back from summer break, but now it’s time to get back to school! Isn’t everyone excited to be back~?”

An immediate and resounding “No” came from Natsuki and Qua in unison, their deadpan delivery perfectly timed.

Qua, lounging at his usual desk near the window, barely glanced up from the manga he was flipping through. His short brown hair caught a slight breeze from the open window, and his piercing blue eyes glimmered with their usual blend of wit and disinterest. “Honestly, I’d rather stay home and read,” he muttered, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather.

Natsuki, seated cross-legged on top of a desk, snorted in agreement. Her pastel pink hair bobbed as she leaned back, arms crossed in defiance. “For once, I’m with Qua. Summer break was way better than this.”

Monika’s smile didn’t falter, though there was a brief flash of exasperation in her gaze. “You’ll have plenty of time to read after today’s activities,” she said, her voice saccharine enough to almost sound like a threat.

“I, for one, am happy to be back,” Yuri chimed in softly, her voice carrying a calm, introspective tone. She sat primly in her usual spot, her dark purple hair cascading over her shoulder as she gently adjusted the ribbon in her lap. “The tranquility of the clubroom, the comfort of routine… It’s refreshing.”

Natsuki whipped her head around, pink eyes narrowing. “Of course, you are. You’re as much of a bookworm as Monika is, Miss ‘I’ll just spend the summer reading Gothic horror alone in my room.’”

Yuri’s lips twitched, her light purple eyes flashing with a rare spark of sass. “Says the one who spent the entire break binge-reading shoujo manga and pretending it’s ‘not the same thing.’”

“Hey, manga is literature!” Natsuki shot back, hopping off the desk to glare at Yuri at eye level—or as close as she could manage, given their height difference. “At least my reading material doesn’t involve, like, fifty pages of describing the same creepy mansion over and over.”

Yuri’s calm demeanor didn’t falter, though a small smirk crept across her lips. “Ah, but that’s the beauty of atmosphere. Something I’m sure your… how should I put it? Sparkly romance dramas can’t quite achieve.”

“Oh, please! Like you even understand half the stuff you read,” Natsuki huffed, placing her hands on her hips. “You’re just pretending to be deep so no one notices how weird you are!”

Before Yuri could respond, Qua cut in with a chuckle, still flipping lazily through his manga. “I mean, she’s got a point, Yuri. Your bookshelf does look like it belongs to a vampire that shops exclusively at Hot Topic.”

Yuri blinked, taken aback for a moment, before quickly composing herself. “And yet, I’ve never heard of a vampire who hacks into systems to rewrite their own textbooks for fun. Perhaps we all have our… peculiarities.”

Monika cleared her throat, the sound light but commanding enough to draw everyone’s attention. “Alright, alright,” she said, her ever-present smile now edged with a touch of amusement. “I know it wouldn’t be a club meeting without a little bickering, but let’s try to focus. We have some activities planned, and I’d really love for everyone to participate.”

At that moment, the door burst open, and Sayori bounded in with her usual chaotic energy. “Guys! You’ll never believe what I found outside!” she exclaimed, holding up what appeared to be… a giant loaf of bread, somehow balanced perfectly on her head.

Natsuki groaned, Yuri sighed, Qua smirked, and Monika—despite herself—laughed softly. It was just another day at the Literature Club.

{INTRO:}

The screen flickers into focus, revealing Monika sitting at her piano in the empty clubroom. The soft sunlight streams through the windows, casting an ethereal glow around her. She looks up, her green eyes sparkling with mischief as she closes her notebook of music compositions with a satisfying snap. Turning toward the reader, she smiles knowingly.

“Welcome back! I know what you’re thinking. ‘Monika, why are you talking to us? Shouldn’t the story just… start?’” She chuckles, brushing a strand of her chestnut hair behind her ear. “Well, maybe in a normal story. But this isn’t a normal story, is it?”

Standing, she walks to the front of the room, gesturing dramatically as if presenting on a stage.

“Here in the Literature Club, we like to do things a little differently. So, before the chaos begins, let me give you a glimpse of what’s in store—like an anime opening! You know, those flashy montages with catchy music where everything looks way cooler than it actually is?”

Her expression softens into something more serious—or is it self-aware?

“Besides… sometimes it’s nice to take a moment to appreciate how much fun we’re having before things inevitably go off the rails.”

With a snap of her fingers, the clubroom melts away into a kaleidoscope of scenes:

Sayori, laughing hysterically, pulls an oversized mallet out of thin air and smashes through a wall. She waves sheepishly as Monika sighs in the background.

Yuri, standing under a gothic archway, her purple eyes glowing eerily, clutches a tattered book that leaks ominous purple mist. Raven feathers swirl around her.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Natsuki slams a manga volume shut, sparks flying as she glares at Yuri. The two begin bickering, their exaggerated chibi-style arguing making the panels on the page come to life.

Qua, seated at his computer, smirks as lines of code cascade across the screen. He taps a key, and the world glitches briefly, revealing Monika standing behind him with an unreadable expression.

Monika, perched at her piano, plays a haunting melody. The camera pans up, showing her gazing out a window—her reflection flickering slightly, as if caught between two realities.

The montage abruptly ends. Monika reappears in the clubroom, clapping her hands together with a bright smile.

“Pretty cool, huh? I’d say it sums us up nicely: a little chaotic, a little heartfelt, and absolutely over the top. Now, let’s see what kind of mischief the club gets into this time, shall we?”

With that, she gestures toward the door, and the real story begins.

*******

Monika raised an eyebrow, her gaze flicking from Sayori’s exuberant grin to the oversized loaf of bread precariously perched atop her head. “Sayori, dear, why do you have bread on your head?” she asked, her voice dripping with amused curiosity.

Sayori, ever the ball of sunshine, beamed at Monika, her coral pink hair bouncing with each enthusiastic nod. “Oh! I was trying to feed the birds, but for some reason, they wouldn’t come to me,” she explained, her hands flailing slightly as she gestured to the loaf of bread like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Monika’s lips quirked into a smile, her green eyes glinting with an all-too-familiar mix of fondness and exasperation. Before she could respond, Sayori’s face lit up with a gleam of sudden inspiration.

As if on cue, Sayori’s mind dove back into the memory, and the scene around her seemed to flicker like an old cartoon. The setting shifted to a bright, early morning, the crisp air of the outside world surrounding her. She was walking to school, skipping a few steps with that trademark bounce only she could manage. She’d been in a particularly good mood that day, humming a cheerful tune to herself when she happened to glance up.

Birds. A flock of them soared overhead, their wings flapping rhythmically, a majestic display against the pale blue sky. Sayori’s eyes widened, her smile growing impossibly larger as her brain clicked into overdrive.

“I know!” she shouted to no one in particular, her voice unusually dramatic for someone so small and lively. Without hesitation, she reached into thin air, pulling out a comically oversized loaf of bread that appeared as though it had been summoned straight from the depths of cartoon physics. Sayori held it aloft triumphantly like a treasure found in a video game.

“Come here, birdies~!” she sang sweetly, waving the bread around like a flag in an attempt to coax the birds closer.

The birds, unsurprisingly, paid no attention. In fact, they seemed to circle above her, just out of reach, as if they were in some sort of aerial protest against her attempts. Undeterred, Sayori stood there with a hopeful expression, occasionally making exaggerated “cawing” noises and waving the bread more vigorously, as if she could summon the entire flock with sheer force of will.

But the birds didn’t come. Instead, they seemed to fly higher, as though they were avoiding her on purpose.

Sayori’s grin faltered for a moment, but then she perked right back up, an almost exaggerated look of determination spreading across her face. No problem! She thought to herself, her fingers curling around the giant loaf like it was a magic wand.

“Okay, birds. If you won’t come to me…” she said aloud, squinting dramatically at the sky as if she had just cracked the code to an ancient mystery. “Then I’ll just have to be the bird!”

And thus, she began running in circles, flapping her arms as she danced under the birds, shouting a series of increasingly ridiculous bird sounds. The loaf of bread, meanwhile, stayed balanced on her head like a comical crown, defying all expectations of gravity as it somehow remained firmly in place.

When the memory faded, Sayori snapped back to the present, her hands still holding the loaf of bread in place. She shrugged nonchalantly, clearly proud of her creative solution to the bird situation.

“So yeah,” she concluded with a grin that could light up the whole room, “I guess the birds weren’t in the mood for bread today.”

Monika stared for a moment, her lips curling into a fond smile as she exchanged a glance with the others. “Only you, Sayori,” she murmured, as if this kind of thing was just part of the course with the club’s chaotic force of nature.

Qua, who had been half-heartedly observing the situation from the side, raised an eyebrow. “Well, at least you didn’t try feeding them a whole bakery this time.”

Sayori pouted, though there was a twinkle in her eye. “That was one time, Qua! And it worked, didn’t it?”

Yuri, who had been silently watching the exchange, smirked lightly, her usual deadpan expression barely masking the amusement beneath. “I’m more curious why you thought the birds needed bread to begin with.”

Natsuki, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair, snorted. “Knowing you, Sayori, you probably thought the bread would make them smarter or something.”

Sayori giggled, her shoulders shaking with laughter. “Hey, I did see a bird reading a book once. Maybe they were just waiting for the right snack to match their literary tastes.”

Monika sighed, but it was clear that the slight edge of amusement in her tone was real. “Well, I’m glad the bread didn’t go to waste.”

Sayori’s grin only widened. “Of course not! I was thinking of sharing it with you all anyway~.” She struck a pose, balancing the bread on her head with newfound pride. “It’s for the greater good, after all!”

Qua tilted his head back slightly, eyeing the loaf of bread on Sayori’s head with a raised brow. “Yeah, I don’t think I’m desperate enough to eat bread you pulled out of thin air. Who knows where it’s been,” he remarked, his tone as smooth and indifferent as ever.

Natsuki, ever the troublemaker, slid up beside him, leaning against his shoulder with a mischievous glint in her sharp pink eyes. “Like you haven’t eaten mysterious food before,” she teased, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “I bet you thirty-five bucks last school year to eat a boiled egg that fell on the floor, and guess what? You did it.”

Qua simply shrugged, his expression unchanging. “Money is money, Natsuki. And what can I say? I’m about my money,” he replied, his voice matter-of-fact as though it was the most logical thing in the world.

Yuri, sitting across from them, raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “Is that so?” she said, her voice a bit sharper, a teasing undertone now seeping through. “Because I swear, last year, I gave you forty-five dollars to—”

Before Yuri could finish her sentence, a textbook came flying out of nowhere and slammed directly into her face with a loud thwack.

Qua didn’t even flinch. “Shut your mouth,” he muttered coldly, giving her a pointed look, the faintest trace of a smirk curling at the corner of his lips.

Yuri, momentarily stunned, adjusted her glasses with an exaggerated sigh, her cheeks flushed in a mix of surprise and annoyance. “You jerk,” she muttered under her breath, but the lingering smirk on her face showed she wasn’t really mad—just embarrassed.

Natsuki couldn’t help herself, snickering as she watched the interaction unfold. “Oof, Qua. Cold.”

Monika, standing off to the side, smiled knowingly, as if she’d seen this drama play out a dozen times already. “This is exactly why we can never have a normal club meeting,” she remarked with a shake of her head, though there was amusement dancing in her eyes.

Monika leaned against the desk with her usual poised and composed demeanor, her green eyes glimmering as she crossed her arms. “So,” she began, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips, “how about we talk about what everyone did over the summer break?” She arched her back just slightly, her gaze sweeping across the room with an almost knowing look, as if she had already anticipated the response she would get from each of them. Her posture was relaxed yet commanding, as though she was about to host a discussion among friends, even though she was the club president.

She tapped a finger thoughtfully against her chin, her eyes landing on Yuri. “Let’s start with you, Yuri,” Monika said, her tone light, yet the way she said it left a small sense of expectation in the air. Almost as if there was something about Yuri’s summer that Monika was keen to hear.

Yuri, slightly taken off guard by being called upon first, shifted in her seat, her dark purple hair flowing as she glanced at the others. She bit her lip, her usual calm composure shifting for just a moment. “I-I spent most of my summer… reading,” she began, her voice soft, and her hands instinctively folded in her lap. “Mostly gothic novels—works of Edgar Allan Poe, Mary Shelley… I find myself gravitating toward the darker, more philosophical themes in literature these days. It’s almost… therapeutic.” She paused for a moment, her light purple eyes glancing down at the table as though she were lost in thought. “It helps me understand the complexities of the human condition. The suffering, the chaos, the beauty in all of it.”

Qua, lounging casually against the far wall, let out a low chuckle, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Yeah, that sounds like a typical Yuri summer. You know, for a second there, I thought you were going to start discussing the deeper meaning of… what was it? Frankenstein again?” He raised an eyebrow, as if baiting her.

Yuri shot him a glance, the smallest hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. “I’m serious, Qua. There’s a lot more to it than just ‘mad scientist’ clichés.”

Sayori, sitting on the floor with her usual unbridled energy, bounced up suddenly, waving her arms around as if she could hardly contain her excitement. “Ooo, you spent all summer reading? I spent mine trying to feed birds!” She grinned, proud of her unorthodox answer. “But they wouldn’t come, so I just put a whole loaf of bread on my head! Didn’t work, though…” Sayori trailed off, looking slightly disappointed as she absentmindedly tugged at her hair. “They’re so picky. Like, what’s wrong with a good loaf of bread?”

Monika stifled a giggle at Sayori’s antics, clearly amused but choosing to remain composed. “Always with the bread, huh?” she remarked with a chuckle.

Yuri, however, raised an eyebrow at Sayori’s bizarre, yet somehow endearing, story. “Birds… on your head? Sayori, you do realize that bread attracts more than just birds, right?” she teased, her tone dry but somehow playful.

Sayori’s eyes widened, as if a revelation had struck her. “You’re right! Maybe that’s why they wouldn’t come! I was probably attracting… pigeons and stuff. Those dirty city birds. Maybe I should’ve brought snacks instead. I bet they’d love cookies!” she declared triumphantly, her face lighting up as she jumped back to her feet, eyes sparkling with the thought of her next big bird-feeding plan.

Qua shook his head with a small smile. “Only you, Sayori,” he muttered, clearly not expecting anything else.

Monika, who was still enjoying the lively exchange, now turned her attention to Natsuki. “What about you, Natsuki?” she asked, her voice soft and inviting as she leaned in slightly.

Natsuki, who had been quiet up until now, snorted, clearly amused by the whole conversation. “Me? Well, I spent most of my summer working on my manga. Got a few new pages done for my webcomic—so it wasn’t all just reading or chasing birds around.” She crossed her arms defiantly, her sharp eyes catching Monika’s. “Unlike some people.”

Monika smiled at Natsuki’s comment, her lips curling into that signature, knowing smile. “I see, so no loaf-on-head bird-feeding adventures this year?” she teased lightly.

Natsuki rolled her eyes. “You can keep the birds, Monika.”

Monika’s gaze flicked over to Qua next, knowing he would be the hardest to read. He was always so aloof, so indifferent about everything. She raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for him to answer.

Qua, with his signature half-smirk, stood up and stretched lazily. “I mostly worked, as usual. Freelancing isn’t all glamorous, but the money’s good. And, y’know,” he paused, as if considering his next words carefully, “I spent some time figuring out… some things. Stuff that’s just—” He cut himself off, sensing the sudden shift in tone. He cleared his throat, his eyes hardening just a bit. “Nothing too interesting. Anyway, yeah, money, tech, whatever.”

Monika raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. She knew Qua was always a little cryptic about certain things. Instead, she nodded. “Fair enough. A quiet summer, then?”

“Sure,” Qua replied coolly, his usual charismatic yet distant air fully intact. “Quiet.”

Natsuki scoffed, clearly trying to hide her amusement. “Yeah, right. We all know you’re up to something, Qua.”

Monika, her gaze sweeping over the group with fondness, smiled softly. “I think that covers it, then. It’s nice to hear everyone’s summer stories. Even if some of them involve birds… and pigeons,” she said with a teasing glance at Sayori, who was now in the process of pretending to “whistle” for birds to come to her.

The room settled into a comfortable silence, each member of the club lost in their own thoughts, but somehow, the energy felt lighter. The Literature Club was back, ready for another round of their strange, yet endearing, adventures.