Day 1, Part 1

Prologue (1/3): Not A Common Occurance


I groan in contempt as I stare blankly at the girl standing before me, smiling widely as my lips purse; Sayori speaks to me for the rest of the group, "we love you, Weyland," and the last CG image fades to black. Slowly, the credits scroll upward and each photo I've seen a dozen times passes my gaze. A sigh escapes my throat as I ruminate on the ending to the game for the Nth time. The only other ending this game has and it isn't even good. I digress, while it was significantly better than the whole Sayori-develops-Monika's-powers thing, it still sucked. Don't get me wrong, 'Doki Doki Literature Club' was fucking fantastic as a game, but the endings were so... so lackluster. I feel empty inside, constantly fooling myself into thinking there was maybe a third, secret ending, one where the player could actually experience the damned festival that kept being brought up — maybe do things in a certain order and it'll happen. Of course, however, that was just wishful thinking.

There are no such things as happy endings.

As much as there was left to do — work the festival, get Yuri to stop cutting, beat the shit outta Natsuki's dad, woo Sayori — I couldn't. The game wouldn't allow me to and that was that. It ended and there's nothing I can do about it. From the brain of one Dan Salvato, birthed one of the best and worst visual novels I've ever had the pleasure of playing. It's great in almost every aspect except for the want it makes the player feel; the want to have everyone happy in the end, but we couldn't do anything to achieve that happiness for them. It was just a cesspool of death and despair — granted, the happy ending didn't really have death nor despair, but it still felt wrong without Monika. She's the Literature Club's president and to have her forcefully remove herself from the game? It was just a weight in the pit of my stomach that I didn't appreciate.

She may not have been my favorite character, but she certainly didn't deserve what had happened to her. Why hadn't Dan and his team developed an actual route for her? Why hadn't they have just made an actual cheesy romance VN? Yes, I get that it wouldn't have been what it is today if they hadn't done what they did, but I still feel as if the game would have had a great following nonetheless. DDLC had fantastic characters, despite most of them being a cliche in some way, but they still hold a place in my heart and to see them all killed off — and not get their own happy endings to boot, is just ridiculous.

With another, final sigh, I lower my hand down into one of my pants' pockets, inadvertently forcing my laptop from, well, my lap. My eyes follow the device as it falls from my waist and onto the floor with a heavy smack! and I groan. Pulling a pack of Marlbs from my pocket, I look away from the now-likely-broken device and push myself upward. Planting my feet on the floor as I sit at the end of my bed, I grab at my lighter beside me and spark up the cancer-stick. Before I inhale, I glance down at my laptop once more, throwing the lighter aside. "Sonovabitch..." I grumble, grunting as I push myself on to my feet. With a sharp inhale, nicotine rushing through my system, I shake my head. "Great start, man. Today's gonna be fuckin' lovely." I step over the device without even bothering to check how severe the damages are.

Silently, after I take several drags from my cigarette, I slowly make my way through the maze of clothes littering the floor. Stepping outside of my room, idly, my thoughts drift to what I'm going to make for breakfast.

I briefly debate with myself on either eggs or pancakes.

. . . . .

Why did I keep playing the game after I've 'beaten' it so many times? Sayori dies, Yuri dies, Natsuki runs off and gets deleted. There was no gain in replaying it, no joy, no mirth. It only fuels my masochistic beating heart and I continue to do do this to myself. Hell, I even want Monika to get a better end than she did; herself sacrificing everything to be with the player or sacrificing herself to save them? It's an awful ultimatum that the vanilla game chose, but it's what stuck in the end and it just further proves the point of there being no happy endings. Why couldn't the damn thing have just been a normal VN? I didn't want Sayori to go out like that — at all, actually. She's the cinnamon bun I wanted to keep happy; alive, prior to my knowledge on the game, now.

Why couldn't the team make the MC any quicker? Had he been aware of her depression, and ultimately her suicidal thoughts, I'm sure things would have played out more in the player's favor. Hell, she did tell him a day or so beforehand and he still wasn't quick enough to decipher anything! If I were to have been him, I wouldn't have left her side until I figured something out. Sure, I don't understand depression, but I know it's not a good thing to fight through shit like that alone. Which, of course, is what the MC did. With him not being any the wiser, she was going through those horrible bouts and thoughts by herself and — ugh. If only no one died.

If only the game was normal. In VN standards, at least. Nothing would have gone to shit, Monika wouldn't be 'self-aware', and more importantly, Sayori would still be there being that lovable goof that she is! It's not... it's fair. It's fair. I just have to remind myself that this is the game that Team Salvato wanted us to play, a build-up to something else I suppose. I don't know. It's fair, but it certainly doesn't feel like it. Blindly burying my fork into the slice of under-done egg, I pull it to my lips in thought. I guess, if I want any closure, I'd have to download that 'Monika After Story' mod, later. Though, closure for what? Seeing Monika happy? I don't give a damn about that! Sure, I'd said to myself earlier that all of the girls have a place in my heart. But I didn't mean it exactly like that; above all else, seeing Sayori happy would have been what I need.

I grimace at the liquid-like texture of egg and shiver lightly before groaning. "Well, if I didn't break my laptop, I would have," I mumble, swallowing the last bit of my meal. Maybe if there was like a 'Sayori After Story' mod, I'd get my laptop fixed. That is, if it's even broken in the first place. I probably should have gotten a better look at it after I dropped it. Nah, I was too frustrated to care at the time. I cringe inwardly, feeling the foodstuff make its way down my throat and I toss my fork haplessly onto the plate. I mean, Sayori was best girl, after all. She of all of the girls deserves happiness the most. At least, in my opinion, that's how it should be. Don't get me wrong, I love Monika. She's just too, I don't know, seems high maintenance. I like Natsuki, but she's definitely jailbait, despite what the wiki says. You ain't fooling anyone, Dan-o. Natsuki is very clearly underage. Why else wouldn't they have violently killed her off like Sayori and Yuri?

Speaking of, she's definitely my least favorite out of the quartet. Don't ever expect me to get within ten feet of that broad; nothing against psychopaths — in American weeb terms, yandere — but I know she'd likely stab me for just thinking of talking to my mother. So yeah, that's an obvious deal breaker. Even though I don't talk to my mother as it is. I carefully tongue a piece of egg skin from my teeth with a wry chuckle... regardless! The point is, I don't exactly like Yuri.

Jesus Christ, this damn game shouldn't have this much... stature inside of my head, for lack of a better word. But yet, it does. Like glue, it's sticking inside my mind for me to dwell on it when I really shouldn't. The game's characters, all special snowflakes in their own regards, ain't they? Maybe that's why I'm still thinking on it. Yeah, that's definitely the reason. "Gonna bitch about this to Jane, maybe she can distract me from this." I murmur, my thoughts drifting to that of my ex but still a close friend, Janice Grey. If anyone could take me from my mind, it'd be her to do so. Shit, she's been doing that forever now, anyway.

With a soft smile as I think of her, I push myself from the small two-man table, taking with myself the plate I'd sat atop it. I don't bother thinking about what poisonous, foul, disgusting thing I shoved on my barely-working stovetop. If I do, I'll likely puke and I can't have that; already cleaned up last night's meal and I don't want to have a repeat of that. "Maybe I could get a new burner... sure, it'll knock me back a bit, but," but nothing. My voice falls silent as I remember my current predicament. I couldn't afford a new oven, microwave, stovetop, burner or even a fucking toaster. I'm limited to the money I have for my bills and maybe a couple packs of cigarettes. Way to get your hopes up, Beck. You dumb piece'a shit.

I shake my head from the thought and make my way to the stained counter, tossing the plate into the sink without a second glance — crash! — and regretting that soon after. Love, Thirty. I think sourly to myself as I step away from the jittery basin. "Two things in one day, yeah. I called it. Today's fuckin' fantastic." I mumble lowly, leaning my back against one of my chairs. I raise a hand and pinch the bridge of my nose, forcing back a cough, I turn my head upward to glare at the ceiling. In any game I've ever played, I was someone. Out here, in the real world, I'm just me. A man who wasn't ready to face reality.

A nobody.

"God, why the fuck couldn't you have made me Harrison Ford?" I question aloud, combing my hand through my somewhat lengthy hair. "Wouldn't have to deal with this shit, now would I?" Lowering my hand and crossing my arms over my chest, I wait for an answer I know I wouldn't get.

Thud!

Or... thought I wouldn't get? My glare softens and I stare inquisitively at the ceiling. The noise came from my room, obviously as I'm the only one on the top floor. That sounded suspiciously akin to someone coming in through my window, but I swear on the guy I was just talking to that I closed it the night before. That, and there's no emergency escape ladder on this floor — or any other, for that matter, but that's beside the point — so it'd be an impossibility, right? At least, I think it would be... My hand finds itself in one of my pockets again and I pull out my Nokia, taking a cautious step towards my staircase. "H-hello?" I call upward, not really expecting an answer.

"Ugh... my head..."

But, like the previous time I didn't expect one, I was wrong. I freeze suddenly, my foot on the first step upward. That sounded oddly feminine. Okay, not oddly feminine, that was sexist of me, but you know what I mean. It's just odd that there's a person at all in my room right now. Ugh, time to put on my brave face. "H-hey! Whoever's up there, if you don't leave, I'm calling the police!" Brave face, my ass. What in the Hell was that stutter? Whoever's upstairs doesn't respond and instead, I'm met with groaning. Maybe they'll leave, I don't know and I really hope they don't leave through the front door.

I'm fine without the possibility of seeing their face and them stabbing me directly after. Yeah, I'm definitely fine without that in my life.

But what if they don't and they see your manga collection? The devil's advocate in me stirs my paranoia something anew and I gulp, taking another shaky step upward. Well, if they see it then I'm going to have to kill them. Ain't no way I'm letting anyone know the shit I read. Okay, yeah, we all know I wouldn't be able to. I scream at the sight of mice, for crying out loud. Ugh, I'm such a pansy-ass.

With a deep breath, I don't bother fighting the devil on my shoulder and I run up the staircase, screaming all the way. "For the love of God and the holy three, don't murder me!"

. . . . .

"..."

"... what in the fuck..."

Aside from the girl's swearing, neither of us really speak to each other. All I do is stare silently down at the oddly familiarly dressed girl. I quickly notice my laptop is just under her stomach, but it doesn't ring any alarms in my head at the moment. It's just her outfit and-and hair color are so famili... are you fucking kidding me. The uniform the girl has on is exactly like that of those from the game I just had an existential crisis over, this morning. A brown blouse I'm certainly no stranger to covers her small shoulders and most of her torso while a short, blue skirt covers the lower half. Her milky-white thighs advertise to the world for only, maybe a foot before stocking covers the rest of her legs.

Her hair draws my attention and I gulp silently as I look at the short, pink locks. Two pig-tails atop her head, dangle loosely to the sides of her head while her bangs lie out with a red tie effortlessly placed to keep them there. Slowly, my eyes lower and her rosy gaze matches mine for all of a second before she looks downward with a huff. My lips flatten before opening cautiously, but her eyes return to mine and I promptly close my mouth.

"Why the fuck are you so short?" We both ask in almost perfect unison.

I think I almost pissed myself.


Ah, yeh, another spin-off with only one more to start and then I can get to work on all of them! I can't wait for you guys to see what I have in store for this one. It's fucking stupid, but I digress, of course it is! It's by me, duh.

Mark the Mark, this one's for you, ya bastard! Hmph, best girl my ass. Kidding, but seriously, I know how ya love Nat-Nat, so I figured I'd start this one before I did Monika's. Saving the second best girl for last... oh, don't look at me like that, you all know I love Sayori the most lmfao.

But nah, I told y'all I'd write a short series for each of the Dokis and I am! I'm doing it! I'm fucking doing it! Are ya proud of me, ma?! Lmfao, anyway, sorry for the little lapse in time, folks. I already told you about my constant writer's block issue and it still keeps hitting me. Well, don't worry. I've actually got shit pre-written out now! So, expect an update for any of my major works within two weeks! Fuckin' awesome, innit?

Anyway, that's that for, er, that? As usual, you're all the best and I hope you continue to enjoy!