TW: This will contain depictions of suicide and depression

(Note: This story takes place in the Happily Ever After!AU. The first part will take place in the past, when Sayori and Kenji were nine. The second part will take place after the events of the game, and during their normal lives.)

"Katashi! Can you walk me to Kenji's house? We're gonna have a playdate!" Sayori, only nine, called, skipping over to her older brother's room. She was adjusting her bright red bow in her coral pink hair. Katashi smiled, grabbing his coat. "A playdate, hm?" He asked, raising an eyebrow slyly. "Yea!" She responded excitedly. "Ah, young love." He sighed, quiet enough so she couldn't hear. Sayori grabbed at seventeen year-old's hand, dragging him out the door.

Thirty Minutes Later

Katashi watched as his little sister and her best friend, Kenji ran around the park. Kenji was holding a stick with a worm on it, and Sayori squealed and kept just out of his reach. The two had known each other since they were about five. Kenji had managed to help Sayori let out a more daring side to her, and Sayori always managed to help Kenji be cautious, keeping him from hurting himself in a move of utter dumba$$ery.

As the gentle breeze flowed through the teen's coral pink hair, the grass gently brushed against his legs, and he watched his sister giggle in joy, Katashi felt... strange.

For once in about a decade, he managed to feel something pure within him. Pure adoration. Both for the world, his family, his friends, and everything around him.

Around him.

He felt adoration for everything. Everything but himself.

There was a loathing for himself. Resentment for himself. HATE for himself. He didn't know why he felt this.

His father, Hatashi was always kind and supportive. His mother, Sakura, always helped him whenever he was given a hard time by teachers and peers. And Sayori... Well, what else could he say? She was Sayori. Perfect in every way in his eyes.

So, he just never understood why he felt all this hatred for himself. He always felt as if he were a burden. And he could never bear to tell his family, nor his best friend, Shoto, who had his own sister Sayori and Kenji's age. He didn't dare let those closest to him be burdened with this. I would hurt too much.

He didn't want them to be upset.

They might've already been too angry with his presence.

Part of him wanted so badly to help himself and get better.

Part of him just wanted to end it all.

Two hours later

"Sayori! Imōto! Time to go home!" Katashi called, standing by pulling himself up with the branch of a tree. Sayori grabbed her friend's hand and rushed over as the older grabbed his car key. "M'kay, I'll drop you off at your house, Kenji. Your dad will be outside to bring you inside." He said, smiling brightly. Kenji nodded as the two scrambled into the back seats. Katashi got in the driver's seat and started driving.

After they got home, Sakura, the two's mother, looked over at them. She was putting away some empty bento boxes in the pantry, and smiled gently at them. "How was your playdate with Kenji, koibito?" She asked, turning over to them. Sayori smiled, "It was awesome!" She said, pure joy in her voice. "Did you have fun, Katashi?" She asked, looking over at him. Katashi smiled and nodded.

Sakura closed the pantry and tied her hair with the band on her wrist. "I'm going to take a nap. Your father is in the garage. I'll try to be up to tuck you in, Sayori, but if I'm not," she looked over to Katashi, who nodded, "I don't mind, Okaasan." He said, smiling sweetly. She nodded, then walked off.

Sakura hadn't returned by 8 pm, Sayori's bedtime, so Katashi picked her up and brought her to her room. He felt a cold breeze rush past him. He put the younger in her bed, but noticed how she shivered. He went over to the cracked window and tried closing it. It was jammed, impossible to shut. The winter cold gripped the room, so Katashi asked his sister to wait, then went to his own room.

He grabbed a bright blue blanket, which was neatly folded on the chair in the corner of his room. He brought it back over to Sayori, who had managed to huddle in all her blankets, making the bed look like a wreck. Katashi sighed and straightened it out for her. He then wrapped her up in the blanket. It was the same color as Sayori's eyes, even in the dark. He smiled gently at her. "It smells like you." She said, seeming to be warmed up now. Katashi smiled bigger, "Oh really? What does that smell like?" He asked. "I dunno, you have a certain smell... Like rainbows..." She said, a hint of awe in her voice. Katashi laughed a bit.

After tucking her in and reading her a story, Katashi stood up. "Need a hug before I go?" He asked, smiling sweetly. Sayori smiled back and shook her head. "Nope! I'm grown enough now!" She said, smiling happily. He laughed again. "If you say so." He said, then walked off, flicking off the light. "Goodnight, imōto." He said. "Goodnight, onii-chan." Sayori yawned. He walked down the hall, back to his room.

'Such a sweetheart.' He thought.

It felt even worse to love his sister that much. To do anything- ANYTHING to make her happy. No matter what it took.

The next day

"Katashi! I wanna go to Kenji's house!" Sayori called, excitedly rushing to her older brother's room. It was almost a loop, but she never seemed to mind. However, Katashi's door was closed. A small difference in her organized pattern, but she didn't really mind. She knocked on the door happily. "Katashi!" She called in her gently singsong voice. There was nothing from the other side of the room. She raised an eyebrow, still not thinking much of it. She knocked again. Again, no response came from her brother. She sighed, "I'm coming in!" She called. With that, she opened the door.

A few seconds later, Sakura and Hatashi heard a blood-curdling shriek.

They bolted over, seeing their daughter standing in front of their son's door. She was pale as a sheet.

"Sayori? What happened?" Sakura asked, walking over to her and glancing inside Katashi's room. She froze, her mind trying to comprehend what was happening. Hatashi looked over, and went into shock, a million thoughts going through his mind. "Oh God..." He whispered. Sayori was shaking in horror and fear.

There, Katashi was hanging from his ceiling, his eyes empty. Dull. Dead.

Gone.

Two weeks later

From that day on, none of the family could ever handle a funeral. Sayori the whole time managed to hold back from crying. Sakura and Hatashi couldn't, however. Sakura mainly buried her face in her husband's shoulder, not daring to look at the casket that held her son. Hatashi was full of remorseful questions and thoughts.

Why Katashi?
Why him?
What did he do?
He didn't deserve this.
He should've done something.
But what could he have done?
He should've worked less.
Should've been there for him.
Should've.

Should've.

All he wanted at that moment was to wrap his arms around his son. To tell him how much he loved him. To tell him how much he mattered to the world. To him. To his mother. To his sister.

His sister. Oh God, how would he explain everything to Sayori? How would Sayori take this? What was he going to do?

The eulogy hurt to get through for Suraka. What did this pastor know about Katashi? How could simple words describe every beauty and wonder of her son? Would "reassuring" words make them feel any better for how he suffered?

Sayori said nothing the whole time, fiddling with the skirt of her black kimono. She shed no tears and didn't hold onto either of her parents. She seemed nearly indifferent. It was only when they started lowering the casket to the ground, did she even more from where she was standing. She stepped forward, tears starting to form in her eyes. She stood up and walked over to the hole, as the casket was just reaching the surface. The men lowering it looked at her curiously and asked her to step back.

She looked up at him, her lip quivering and tears beginning to run down her face. "Please don't put my brother down there..." She pleaded, her voice breaking. She took a moment, trying to swallow back a whimper. "He's scared of the dark... He needs a hug..."

(AN: I'm not gonna cry. I'm not gonna cry. I'm not gonna cry.)