Day 1, Part 1

Prologue (1/2): Not What You've Come to Expect

My emotions were scattered, my brain was frazzled. I'd just finished a stupendous game, a wonderful visual novel titled 'Doki Doki Asphyxia — Literature Club' and I was stumped. That was it? That couldn't be it! There was so much left to do: the festival needed to be replanned, Natsuki's cupcakes needed to be rebaked, I needed to hang out with Sayori more! So much was left undone, but as I stared at the credits screen, the colorful images of each route taken scrolled by passively, I knew the ending had truly and finally come.

And I was maximum disappoint.

I brought my hands up to my face and fell back onto my bed, my laptop threw from my, well, lap and onto the floor. Bah, I didn't care, it was obsolete by today's standards anyway. I drew back a hand and prodded away at my befallen bangs, the length of them made me realize I needed a haircut. Why did hair have to grow back so quickly? I cast a glance to my left onto the floor below, my laptop's screen was damaged, glaring various colors to the world, by the sudden impact; I sighed, okay, so it's even more obsolete now. Great. That just means I need to buy a new one. With nonexistent money.

Did I seriously break my one computer because of a video game? Shit, that's sad. With a grunt of minuscule effort, I found the wall nearest my bed staring directly at me. I could've sworn I just looking at my laptop. I shook my head with a low 'tch' and left the room, I'll pick up my laptop later. It's not like my room's any more a mess than my life is.

I wondered briefly if I wanted eggs or pancakes...

. . . . .

So, if Sayori was doomed to hang regardless of my choice... why the fuck did I continue past Act 1? No matter how many times I've tried, no matter how many different routes I've taken, I'd always come to find her in her room... with that damnable noose around her neck. Why couldn't my character be any quicker? Why couldn't he have tried any harder? There were so many options one could've taken in real life to prevent such a horrible fate, but he took none! Yes, yes, I knew it was Monika's doing, but seriously. A pseudo-path where she doesn't hang herself would've been nice... granted the 'happy' ending was alright I suppose, as no one had died except for the very person who started that whole mess.

But did Monika really die though? I'd deleted her from her folder during one playthrough, but she'd somehow managed to come back to save 'me' from Sayori when she inherited the ex-President of the Literature Club's abilities. If she could do that, then maybe she really can't die or be deleted. Maybe the other's can't as well... hahaha, nevermind, Yuri and Sayori both did. I thought to myself sarcastically as I chewed idly on a burnt pancake segment. Maybe it's best not to dwell on it; as earlier thought, no matter what happens, the outcome will always be the same. The same characters will die, the same festival will never be participated in, and of course, the same Monika will always take over the game and nothing else.

That's a depressing thing, but what do I care, it's a game. It's not going to leave any lasting effect on my life or me, I just got a little worked up is all. Goddammit, I should've downloaded 'Monika After Story' after all. I lazily stabbed the fork into the last piece of non-syrupy, crispy pancake and pop it in my mouth. Before I basically crapped my laptop. But why would I want to do that in the first place? Sayori was best girl really, Monika was just Monika. Natsuki was jailbait and Yuri... yeesh, I ain't touchin' that broad with a ten-foot pool. Nothing against yanderes, but I'd prefer not to be stabbed thinking idly of my mother, thank you.

"Jiminy Christmas, this game has me thinking too much about it. I'm gonna go troll on 4chaaaaand my laptop's broken." After my palm smacks loudly against my face, I grumbled at my own stupidity. I'd literally just thought of my laptop not even seconds prior and there I go; thought about using my broken laptop. Genius. I pushed myself away from the small, two-person table and grab at my empty dish. Just looking at it brings about the sour taste in my mouth. "Ugh, I gotta learn how to bake better pancakes. Third set of ash-patties, this week..." The hushed grumble reverberated repeatedly in my empty apartment.

"Or just do takeout again... like that didn't destroy my savings before." Just one bad idea after another, that's me. Bad idea guy. Can I do anything right, seriously? It wasn't a second after I tossed the plate into the malfunctioning sink, that I heard a crash sound from it. I don't even need to look into the dip in the countertop to know what happened. "Guess not." With that final, sharp whisper I loiter in place. What does a man who has nothing to do, do? Nothing, that's what he could do.

"Really should've just placed my laptop next to me..." I nodded at my own assessment before I threw my head back again with a growl of annoyance. "Gimme a break, for the love of God and the holy three!" Silence responded to my prayer; glaring, I flipped off the ceiling like a fool.

Another crash sounded, but not the familiar sound of shattering ceramic. This time, it sounded muffled and came from my room. My mouth dropped open and my eye twitched. "I said 'a break', not more fucking problems!"

Someone from above me yelped directly after I'd shouted. I blinked. I should check that out. Should, as in I would, but I'm not going to, because what if it were a murderer? Or maybe just a stabber? What if they just stab me once and then leave, would going up there just to be stabbed be worth it? No, Hell no. That's why I decided I'm not going to investigate that sound. If they want to do their murdering or stabbering, they can do it elsewhere. Not to me, not in my house, er, apartment floor.

What if they see my ecchi manga collection? That thought alone abolished the fear of a murderer or stabber likely being in my room. "Get outta there!" I shouted, my feet already headed up the staircase.

. . . . .

"..."

"..."

Neither of us spoke as I stared down at the prone, pink-haired girl. Her blue eyes locked with my own in an impromptu staring contest, with her winning as my own pair of eyes drifted slowly to her rose-red bow. And then to her open blouse. And then finally, back to her somewhat dazed eyes. Only one thought was coherent enough for me that I could process, one I ended up asking out loud.

"Why in the living Fuck did a cosplayer break into my home?" Her laughter at my question did little to answer it.

Haha, you thought I'd end up doing a Monika-IRL thing, didn't you?... oh, you didn't? Shit, that's uh, that's kind of embarrassing actually.