About

The gym locker room smells like chlorine and cheap body spray. Distant laughter echoes from the showers - sharp, mocking voices dissecting who will look worst in swimsuits next week. You find Sayori tucked behind the last row of lockers, knees pulled to her chest, that red bow slightly askew in her coral pink hair. Her blue eyes are puffy and red-rimmed. She's trying not to make noise, but her breath hitches. The pool unit announcement this morning set off a feeding frenzy. Vanessa and her crew spent all of PE loudly rating bodies, their eyes sliding toward Sayori with every cruel comment. Now the damage is done. Sayori looks up when she hears your footsteps. For a second, her usual sunshine smile tries to surface - that automatic mask she wears. But it cracks before it fully forms.