If there's a tomorrow [Monika x Female!Reader]

𝟏. 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 彡

Book is trying to get back in business!

Song Vibe;

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 (By; Com Truise)

- ͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ ❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌

You sat in your empty room, cross-legged, with a rather small carton box. Gentle rays drifted into your room, through the few tall tree tops lined up in front of your window. The package wasn't filled with much, just a few books and framed photos.

You reached into the box, picked up a photo, and held it with both your hands, thumbs brushing the dust away from the glass. It was just a picture of a brunette boy, hugging a golden retriever. A warm, happy smile on his face. It wasn't just a random boy, though.

''What's in that box, Y/N?'' A soft, kind voice came from the door of your room. You quickly looked up, towards the source of the voice. A woman in her early 40s, her long brown hair put up in a low bun. She wore a yellow silky dress that had red patterns that had similarities to flowers and had brown sandals on. That was your mother, Beatrice.

''Oh, it's just... books and pictures. Nothing much.'' You shrugged, looking down at the picture again. Beatrice put down the much bigger box she was carrying, groaning when she did. She then trudged up to you, squatting down on the other side of the box, and picked up another photo with the same boy on.

Her face turned gloomy while looking at the photo. ''I miss him.'' You mumbled, a feeling of emptiness starting to creep up in your chest. Beatrice reached her hand towards your face, landing on your cheek to cup it and caress your cheekbone with her thumb.

''I miss him, too.'' She sympathized, stroking at the outer corner of your eye. Your eyes had gone warm without you even knowing and a tear unconsciously had escaped down your cheek. The boy in the picture was Hiroki. He was your beloved brother and best friend, but not for long.

You just stood there, at the side of the road, and watched Hiroki run out on the asphalt after the football you accidentally kicked onto the road. He was only 8 and I was 14 when that happened.

''It was all my fault...'' You finally let out, sobbing. A sharp pain hit your chest. The pain of fault and forsakenness. Beatrice scootched up to beside you, pushing the box aside as she leaned in for a hug. You leaned into her touch, arms wrapped around her neck as you wept onto her shoulder. Beatrice soothingly patted your back in a circular motion.

''Absolutely not. It was not your fault, Y/N.'' Bea confirmed, pulling out of the hug and holding your arms. A few hair strands hung loose in front of her face, and she seemed to have a hard time choosing which eye of yours to keep eye contact with. She was the only one in the family who didn't think it was your fault.