Sayori was; hard to describe.
Perhaps that’s an understatement. It wasn’t sayori herself that was hard to describe, words like bittersweet, gentle, excitable, passionate, or even tragic could fit the coral haired girl bouncing into the literature club quite nicely.
Maybe it was more how Sayori made Yuri feel, electricity and warmth soaring through her lungs like lightning bugs on the first days of summer. The shorter girl seemed to give the room a much appreciated brightness, even on days the skies turned dark and the sounds of thunder echoed through the literature club.
Yuri might’ve only known Sayori for a short while through the literature club, but somehow Sayori gave a nostalgic feeling to anyone she met. It was difficult not to find comfort in the moments of contact Sayori gave so casually.
“Hiya Yuri! Do you wanna walk home together?” Sayori’s words sent a wave of longing through Yuri’s heart, something she once believed was far beyond her reach. “Oh! Um.. Sure!” Her legs seemed to move without command, rushing up with her bag in tow, her footsteps in near sync with Sayori’s.
The two put on their outdoor shoes, and managed some conversation on the upcoming festival, some plans Monika and Sayori had created for the club’s future, and just about anything Sayori’s mind could think of. Yuri made a mental note of the way the sunset made the shorter girl’s hair glow a beautiful shade of orangish-pink, before forcing herself back to the reality in front of her.
“Hey sayori?” Yuri’s voice wavered. “Yeah what’s up?” Sayori chirped back. “Well, isn’t your house the other way?”
“Oh! Yeah, well…” Yuri couldn’t help but notice a slight blush on Sayori’s face as she pressed her fingers together, something yuri had concluded she did when she was anxious or embarrassed, similar to the way yuri fiddled with her hair or natsuki pressed on her knuckles. “I don’t really get a lot of chances to talk, yknow, just the two of us. Ehehe….”
Yuri’s heart pounded. She could’ve sworn Sayori could hear how loud it was beating, but somehow it seemed involuntary, disorderly, abstract even. But in some strange way, there was a foreign sense of comfort in the way Sayori made her heart feel on the verge of bursting.
Sayori’s hand reached for Yuri’s, sky blue eyes falling on light purple. Uncertainty matching with disorder in a kind and gentle way that seemed to put Yuri’s thoughts at a loss of understanding
But as their touch lingered, Yuri smiled.
Understanding is far too overrated.