It was an absolutely perfect morning in Kurohama County—sunshine was streaming through the trees, birds were chirping in perfect harmony, and bees were flying around doing their bee-business, like nothing could possibly ruin the idyllic peace. There was an air of quiet serenity… until KABOOM—the sound of pure chaos suddenly echoed through the hallways of Hoshinari Academy.
Qua, walking with his eyes glued to his phone, stumbled through the madness of students running around, throwing things, talking about everything and nothing at all. His earbuds were in, but it didn’t seem like he was in the mood for any music—just numb to the world. His head was tilted slightly down as his fingers swiped aimlessly, probably looking for a meme or something equally nonsensical.
Just as he neared the door to the Literature Club, a high-pitched scream sliced through the air like a banshee.
“AHHHHHHHHHH! GET IT AWAY FROM MEEEEEEEE!!!”
Sayori’s voice echoed through the hall like a storm of terror. Qua immediately winced, pulling out one earbud, prepared for the worst.
“Sayori… really?” Monika’s voice was like a cool breeze trying to rein in a tornado of panic. “Calm down, it’s not even real!”
“Aww, it’s not?” came Yuri’s disappointed voice from the corner. Qua had learned not to question anything when it came to Yuri’s oddly dark expectations.
Then, they all heard it again: another blood-curdling scream, followed by the sound of frantic footsteps and a clatter as Sayori continued her epic chase around the classroom.
“OH MY GOD, GET IT AWAY FROM MEEEEEEEE!” Sayori was practically ricocheting off the walls now, as if her only goal was to create the most elaborate obstacle course known to humanity.
Meanwhile, Natsuki was holding a book like it could somehow shield her from the oncoming terror, and Yuri? Well, she was recording the whole thing, like it was some kind of psychological horror film. Monika, on the other hand, was sighing—loudly.
Qua, ever the skeptical observer, walked into the room and took in the scene. “God… what is it now?” he muttered, rubbing his temple. Another exhausting day at the absolutely normal Literature Club.
The chaos froze the instant the girls noticed him. Sayori, still panting and wide-eyed from her impromptu cardio routine, popped out from behind the nearest desk.
“Hi Qua!” she squeaked, her hair a little more disheveled than usual, her face flushed with panic.
Natsuki jumped in, her voice sharp and defensive. “Some spider tried to crawl on me!” She was clearly still riding the adrenaline rush.
Yuri’s eyebrow twitched in a deadpan expression, as she turned to Natsuki with her usual calm demeanor. “It’s not a real spider, Natsuki. You’re just being a crybaby.”
Natsuki scowled, her arms crossing stubbornly. “No, you’re just being a dummy. I swear that damn thing blinked at me.”
Yuri facepalmed so hard Qua swore he could hear it from across the room. “It’s not real, Natsuki. It’s just a toy spider.”
Monika, standing with her arms folded and an eyebrow arched, couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, despite the absurdity of it all. “Seriously, guys, it’s plastic. Calm down.”
Natsuki’s eyes narrowed. “That thing looked REAL. It even had eyes!”
Yuri rolled her eyes, her tone heavy with sarcasm. “You’re being dramatic, as always.”
Qua stepped into the fray, adjusting his hoodie and shooting a bored glance at the scene. He scanned the room, looking for the alleged spider. The floor was littered with random objects—a couple of notebooks, a discarded juice box, a highlighter that looked suspiciously like it had been drawn on with permanent marker. But where was the infamous arachnid?
“Where even is this… ‘Spider’?” he asked, heavy air quotes draped sarcastically around the word.
Sayori, still cowering behind Qua like a shielded fortress, peeked over his shoulder. “Protect me, Qua! You’re tall, you’ve got this!”
Qua raised an eyebrow, then looked at Monika. “Is she for real?”
Monika shrugged nonchalantly, her eyes flicking to the commotion around them. “She’s for real. Also, I guess this is just Tuesday for us, so… you know, nothing new here.”
Yuri let out a long sigh, the kind that felt like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. “Yes, this is serious. She is indeed for real.”
Natsuki crossed her arms and shot a pointed glance at Yuri. “You’ve lost your eyesight, haven’t you? That thing blinked at me like it was about to have a conversation.”
Yuri’s deadpan expression never wavered. “I’m not the one screaming over a plastic toy, Natsuki.”
Natsuki’s cheeks puffed up in annoyance, and her face turned bright red. “I swear, if I get a bug bite from this, I’m blaming you, Yuri!”
Sayori peeked her head from behind Qua’s towering form, looking like a timid rabbit who’d been caught in a lion’s den. Her voice was a whisper now, as if she were afraid the very floor might sprout legs and attack her. “Is it gone yet? I’m not going out there until it’s gone!”
Monika kicked the plastic spider out of the club room like she was booting a soccer ball into the stratosphere. “There. It’s gone. Happy now?”
“See?” she said with a slight smirk. “Just plastic. It can’t hurt you.”
Natsuki, still not fully convinced, stuck her tongue out at Yuri. “It looked real, though.”
Yuri barely flinched. “You need glasses, Natsuki.”
Qua just stood there, arms crossed, shaking his head. “I swear, it’s every day with you girls…” He took a deep breath, like he was trying to mentally prepare for the next round of whatever absurdity was coming.
Sayori, now peeking out from behind him like some kind of sidekick in a buddy cop movie, pouted. “Aw, don’t be so grumpy, Qua!”
Natsuki rolled her eyes dramatically as she plopped down into a chair, arms folded stubbornly. “You’re always a grouch, don’t act surprised.”
Yuri smiled to herself, perhaps enjoying the rare moment of normalcy—or what passed for it in this club.
And as Qua took a seat, he couldn’t help but think: At least it was a pretty normal Tuesday… for Kurohama County standards.
Monika clapped her hands together, her voice cutting through the murmur of idle chatter like a gavel striking order in a courtroom. “Alright, everyone! Today we’re diving into the poems I so generously assisted you with. And because I love chaos, I’ll decide who goes first with the timeless art of Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Mo.” Her finger wagged theatrically through the air before landing on Qua. “And the lucky winner is… you!”
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Qua, slouched so deeply in his chair he looked like he might sink through the floor, barely glanced up from his phone. He lazily raised one finger, as if it were a legal objection. “Yeah, uh… gonna keep it a buck with you, Monika. I was high as hell all weekend, so… no poem.”
The room fell silent for a beat. Sayori gasped audibly, her hands clasped to her mouth in faux shock, while Yuri’s eyebrow twitched as if Qua had just insulted the very essence of literature itself. Natsuki snorted into her hand, trying to suppress her laughter, and Monika… Monika just pinched the bridge of her nose like a teacher teetering on the edge of despair.
“Of course you didn’t,” Monika muttered, her words barely audible over the thrum of her disappointment. “Why do I even bother…” She straightened up with a sigh that could have carried the weight of a thousand unfinished assignments. “Fine. Yuri, you’re up. I know you actually did your homework.”
Yuri practically beamed, the moment she’d been waiting for finally arriving. She cradled her notebook to her chest like it was a sacred artifact. “Oh, I would love to share my poem!” she announced, her voice trembling with excitement. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and began as though channeling the spirit of a gothic poet reincarnated just for this moment.
“A shadow whispers beneath the veil,
A voice that quivers, sharp and frail.
Its song, a thread of violet hue,
Weaves tales of dusk where dreams unspool.
The quill, my blade, it carves the air,
In strokes of ink, a silent prayer.
A labyrinth of thoughts confined,
Yet bloom like nightshade in my mind.
The stars, they weep in muted tones,
Their light entombed in velvet stones.
Each flicker speaks of hearts undone,
A requiem sung for the noonday sun.
Yet still I walk, through ash and flame,
Drawn forth by whispers, soft, arcane.
Each step, a hymn to all I fear,
Each breath, a shard of broken mirrors.
For beauty lies where shadows creep,
In truths unveiled, both dark and deep.
The thread of violet calls my name,
Its endless pull, a haunting flame.”
The club room descended into a stunned silence as Yuri finished, her voice lingering in the air like the final note of a haunting melody. Sayori blinked several times, her expression a mix of admiration and confusion. “Wow, Yuri… that was… um… really…”
“Depressing?” Natsuki interjected, raising an eyebrow. “Seriously, what is it with you and writing stuff that sounds like it belongs in a haunted house?”
“It’s called depth,” Yuri replied, her tone icy enough to rival an arctic tundra. “Perhaps if you attempted to expand your literary palate beyond sugar-coated drivel, you’d appreciate—”
“Oh, here we go,” Natsuki groaned, throwing her hands up. “If you think for one second I’m gonna sit here and listen to you trash my—”
Monika clapped her hands again, her voice rising in forced cheeriness that barely masked her desperation to keep the peace. “Okay! Let’s not turn this into another debate about poetic styles. Yuri, your poem was… well, very you.”
“Thanks,” Qua said suddenly, breaking his silence as he straightened up in his chair. “I didn’t hear a word of it, but the vibe? Immaculate.” He gave a slow, sarcastic thumbs-up.
Yuri’s cheeks flushed crimson, though whether it was from embarrassment or suppressed fury was anyone’s guess. “You could at least pretend to be interested,” she hissed.
“Why pretend when I could just—” Qua started, but Monika cut him off with a sharp glare.
“Qua. Don’t push it.” She turned back to Yuri with a strained smile. “Thank you, Yuri. Your poem was… lovely.”
“Lovely is an understatement,” Yuri corrected, her tone clipped but polite. “It was an exploration of the existential truths that—”
“Oh my god, nobody cares!” Natsuki interrupted, throwing her head back dramatically. “Can we please just move on?”
Sayori raised her hand enthusiastically, her usual chipper demeanor cutting through the tension like a ray of sunshine. “Ooh! Ooh! Can I go next?”
Monika sighed but couldn’t help smiling. “Go ahead, Sayori. Save us from ourselves.”
As Sayori bounded to the front of the room, Qua leaned over to Natsuki, whispering, “Think her poem’s gonna rhyme ‘sunshine’ with ‘fun time’ again?”
“Five bucks says it’s about cupcakes,” Natsuki whispered back.
“Deal.”
Everyone blinked in unison, like a synchronized group of confused pigeons. One second, Sayori was standing off to the side, bouncing on her heels like an excited puppy, and the next, poof—she was suddenly right next to Monika, her grin as wide as the moon.
“Ah, yes! It’s my turn!” Sayori exclaimed, as though there had never been any doubt in the world. She grabbed her notebook with the same enthusiasm as someone about to unveil the world’s greatest secret. “My poem is called ‘The World in a Cupcake,’ by Sayori Roote!”
Monika gave a small, resigned smile, already knowing what was about to unfold. She looked over at Qua, who had been nonchalantly leaning back in his chair, his expression a mix of half boredom, half amusement.
Sayori cleared her throat, launching into her poem with the kind of gusto reserved for a Broadway performance:
“Oh, cupcakes make the world so bright,
With sprinkles twinkling in the light!
They’re fluffy clouds of joy to eat,
A sugary treat that can’t be beat!”
Frosting so sweet, I take a bite,
It feels like dancing in the night!
With every swirl, my heart takes flight,
I think this cupcake’s pure delight.
But wait! There’s more, it’s never done,
A cupcake’s magic is so much fun!
I pull one out from thin-air wide,
It’s like a roller coaster ride!
A sprinkle’s twirl, a frosting slide,
And suddenly, I’m on a ride—
The world turns wobbly, oh what a view!
Like a cartoon, I’m flying through!
So here’s my poem, full of cheer,
A cupcake world, both far and near.
Now don’t you fret, just don’t you pine,
I think my poem’s a fun time!”
As Sayori finished, her hands were thrown dramatically into the air like she had just finished a high-energy dance routine. She waited expectantly for applause.
Monika and Yuri exchanged glances—Yuri’s was a look of mild exasperation, while Monika’s face was somewhere between forced politeness and “I need a vacation.” Sayori stood there grinning, like a child who had just presented her parents with an art project that consisted entirely of scribbles.
Natsuki, meanwhile, had her arms crossed, but she was biting her lip to hold back a laugh. She was doing her best to look unimpressed, but the corners of her mouth twitched upward. “Well, that was… something,” Natsuki finally said with a snicker. “Is this the real Literature club or a cupcake fan club?”
Sayori’s face lit up with joy. “See?! Cupcakes can do anything! They can even make the world go wobbly!” She nodded proudly as if she had just solved the mysteries of the universe with frosting and sprinkles.
Qua, who had been half-dozing through the whole performance, suddenly shot forward in his seat, wide-eyed, like someone had poured ice-cold water on his face. His voice was a little louder than necessary as he declared, “Okay, alright, I’ve definitely gotta pay up.”
Natsuki, who had been trying (and failing) to hold in her laughter, straightened up, her smirk growing as she pointed at Qua with a dramatic flourish. “You owe me five bucks, Qua. I called it—cupcakes.”
Qua blinked, staring at Natsuki with an expression that could only be described as ‘betrayed disbelief.’ “No way,” he muttered, pulling out his wallet with a groan. “I thought it was gonna be a little less… ridiculous.”
Natsuki grinned like a shark about to feast. “Nah, man, I knew what I was getting into. That was peak Sayori poetry. Fluff and sugar. Literally.”
“Ugh, whatever,” Qua said, throwing the five-dollar bill at Natsuki like it was an affront to his dignity. “I swear, this club’s a circus sometimes.” He looked around, half-dazed, before muttering, “I can’t believe this is my life now.”
Monika let out a soft chuckle, already moving on to the next moment of club chaos. “Okay, well, that was… certainly a fun time.” She gave Sayori a thumbs-up that was equal parts genuine and exhausted. “Your enthusiasm is contagious, Sayori.”
Sayori, not missing a beat, threw her hands up again and squealed, “Yay! Cupcakes forever!”
Qua groaned, collapsing back into his chair, feeling like he was just an extra in someone else’s sitcom. Meanwhile, Natsuki, unable to hide her grin, gleefully pocketed the five bucks as if she’d just won the lottery.
Monika, still holding a very small amount of composure, clapped her hands. “Alright, well, that’s enough about cupcakes for now. Let’s move on before Qua really decides to combust.”
Natsuki leaned over to Qua, her voice dripping with smugness. “Next time, you might wanna bet on anything else but cupcakes, okay?”
Qua shot her a half-hearted glare but didn’t have the energy to respond. Today was just… one of those days.
Monika clapped her hands to get the club’s attention. “Alright, Natsuki, your turn! Do you have your poem ready?”
Natsuki shot Monika a glare that could have melted steel. “Geez, I don’t know, Monika. Do I?” she said, rolling her eyes dramatically.
Monika raised an eyebrow, not backing down. “Alright then, come up here and read it.”
Natsuki huffed in frustration but, as expected, stomped up to the front of the room with a folded sheet of paper in hand. She stood up straight, arms crossed, clearly putting on a bit of a tough act, but her voice betrayed her as she began to read:
“Beneath the Pink”
By Natsuki Gushiken
I’ve got a fire burning bright,
And you won’t catch me losing the fight.
I’m small, but don’t mistake my size,
I’ll knock you out with just my eyes.
You think I’m tough? You think I’m loud?
Just wait—there’s more beneath this shroud.
Don’t mess with me, don’t push me too far,
Or I’ll show you just who you are.
Yeah, I’m brash, I’m bold, I’ll never bend,
But don’t forget, I’ll always defend.
Underneath the heat, there’s something kind,
But I won’t let you see that part of my mind.
I’ll fight, I’ll argue, I’ll never back down,
But when it counts, I’ll always stick around.
So keep your distance, and don’t you pry,
Or I might just make you cry.
I might be tough, a little rough,
But the ones I care for? They get enough.
So yeah, I’m pink, I’m fiery, I’m loud—
But I’ll stand by you, unbowed.”
As Natsuki finished reading, she folded the paper up with a snap, the edges barely staying intact in her grip. There was a moment of silence in the room, the others seemingly taking in the weight of the words. Natsuki had a fierce, almost defensive look on her face, her arms still crossed tightly in front of her.
Monika was the first to break the silence, her smile warm but tinged with an understanding nod. “That was really… powerful, Natsuki. I think you really captured that balance between strength and vulnerability.”
Yuri nodded thoughtfully, her hand resting gently on her cheek. “Yes, the way you portray toughness, but also the softer side… it’s very moving.”
Natsuki shifted uncomfortably under the praise, her cheeks turning a shade of pink that clashed with the fiery tone of her poem. “It’s… just how I feel sometimes, alright? Not that it matters.”
Sayori piped up from the side, beaming brightly. “I think it’s really cool! You show so much strength, and I can tell you really care about the people you love!”
Monika turned her attention back to Qua, who was slouched in his chair with a look that could only be described as ‘overly relaxed.’ “So, what do you think, Qua? You had a front-row seat to all the drama.”
Qua glanced up lazily, his eyes half-lidded as he scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, yeah, it was cool, I guess,” he muttered. “I mean, it’s Natsuki. Of course, it’s got fire.” He paused, a wry grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But don’t expect me to get all emotional about it. I’m just here for the chaos.”
Natsuki rolled her eyes at Qua, her lips curling into a defiant grin. “Well, someone has to keep the peace, even if you’re too busy looking like a lazy bum to notice.”
Monika chuckled, deciding to step in before things escalated too far. “Alright, alright, calm down, both of you,” she said with an amused smile. “Great job, Natsuki! You’ve definitely earned a place in the spotlight.”
Natsuki gave Monika a side-eye, still holding onto that tough exterior, but there was a subtle softness in her eyes, one that she only allowed to show when she wasn’t paying attention. She quickly shoved her hands in her pockets, muttering, “Whatever. Just don’t make a big deal about it.”
Sayori, ever the optimist, clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling. “No big deal, just a super cool poem, okay?! I think you’ve got something really special there, Natsuki!”
Qua leaned back in his chair, mockingly tipping an invisible hat. “Yeah, yeah, you’re tough. You don’t need me to remind you. But I gotta say, I didn’t expect the emotional depth, even if you did write it on a pink piece of paper.”
Natsuki narrowed her eyes at him, but instead of snapping back, she let out a small, almost imperceptible chuckle. “Alright, maybe one person gets it.”
As the room relaxed and moved on to the next person, the tension around Natsuki began to ease, though she kept her tough exterior intact. The others could see through it, but for now, they let her have her moment. It was a side of her not often shown, but one that everyone secretly admired.