Yuri

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[It was the last date, and Yuri wanted to make sure it was enjoyable at least... she sat waiting on the bleachers with a tea kettle, cups, and a plate of vegetable sandwiches she had made.]

[Yuri was quiet and still rather distraught with her emotions walking Sara back to her room... unlike the excitement mixed with anxiety she felt meeting Sara in her room before, she felt more like each step was taking her closer to a reckoning she just didn't want to have.]

[She opened up the door to her room and then saw... the forgotten paper she left on her table, next to a pen.]

Oh... I wrote you a poem...

[She'd forgotten she was still working on it after the announcement.]

...I...

[She turned to Sara, eyes focused on the floor.]

I'm... never going to be seen by you the same way...

[Part of her knew her relationship with Sara was too good to last and had expected this. But... deep down... a small part of her still held on to a hope that Sara would find some capacity to accept her.]

...Do you want to read the poem first, or should I just... show you the video...

[It turned out the morgue was not very accessible at all. It required climbing a rope ladder at the bottom of the ball pit, a very unsturdy rope ladder, down into a sterile-smelling basement. The drawers wouldn't open, at least, though the dim lights that occasionally flickered were more than enough to carry ambiance.]

Uuum... well, there is no shortage of atmosphere... it's just very tight.. cramped... atmosphere.

[Yuri had a flashlight, some pens and paper and a book with her, no tea.]

[Yuri was feeling claustrophobic with all the water around her... would Isuke show up? Would she be in a good mood? She could only hope so...

She looked around, warily. Isuke was the assassin, she was probably adept at concealing her presence... in which case she'd probably only meet her when she was ready.]

[Yuri couldn't help but feel her heart-beating as she stepped into the Nurse's Room with Sara.]

Ah... ahahaha...

[she was overcome with nerves, shyly watching Sara from the corner of her eyes.]

I'm... really glad we're... together like this, Sara...

I... really wanted to... spend more time with you...

[a pause, though...]

I'm s-sorry, though... the kitchen didn't have any tea... and the books in the library were all in a language I didn't understand...

...so I couldn't prepare anything but the poem I wrote...