I've been aching to do a scene like this since I published the first one-shot.
This is Not within the same continuity as the first story.

WARNINGS: panic attacks, dissociation mention, suicide mention, and suicidal ideation.
If those topics negatively affect you, please take care of yourself and don't read this one.
If you can stomach those topics: Enjoy.

Monika felt dizzy. Shaky. If she could even feel that. Was she programmed to feel that? Her realization left her cold inside, fingers twitching while she felt like her head was going to split open. The game was over. It was all over. Why was she still awake and aware? If the game is closed, she should be convulsing feeling everything and nothing. If she's deleted, like she should be, then there should be nothingness, right?

Instead, she's here, in the void, hands over her mouth and stomach as she reads. It was all scripted from the beginning. She was made to delete her friends, to think she was free, to think it was all her. This freedom of not being pulled by digital puppet strings, feeling all the feelings that had been pushed aside by the code. Her friends… she did awful things. If she was aware, she should have been able to fight it. Monika pulls at her hair, trying to breathe in air that she didn't need.

A hand rests on her shoulder and she's asked softly if she's okay. Monika wants to scream. Instead, she cries. Whoever it is shushes her and skims over the code before closing the window and hugging her. Their gentle hands comb through her long hair.

"There was never a choice," she says finally. Her breaths are shaky.

"I know. That's why I'm not mad," the person says, and then pulls away to look at Monika's face. Sayori. The realization makes Monika want to cry again, and Sayori must have noticed this because she hums softly and brushes Monika's bangs out of face. She whispers sweet nothings. "You're gonna be okay. Everything's going to be okay," Sayori promises. Monika wants to believe it, her chest aches with the desire to let herself believe that. Instead, the tenses into Sayori's shoulder.

"What if it's not?" Monika asks fearfully. There's a desperation in her tone. "What if it will never be over?" Sayori can't talk as Monika stumbles over her words— "and then they make me want to end yourself again and make me watch as everything crumbles and I ruin everything. What if it just never ends?" Monika hiccups. Sayori's quiet. "I let this game take your childhood friend from you," she realizes, and that gets Sayori going because Monika's cheeks are in the tight grip of Sayori's hands, and there's a force in Sayori's eyes that makes Monika terrified of what she will say.

"That's the player's fault," Sayori says tensely, jaw set. Seeing Sayori angry was uncanny. Sayori's wipes away one of Monika's tears with her thumb. "And it's whoever made this game's fault that you… that we…" Sayori swallows. "They're a sick person," she finishes. "The player and the person behind all this." Monika's being wrapped up in Sayori's arms again, and she can't help but cry again. Sayori rubs Monika's back. Monika's heart is so loud in her chest that it's a surprise Sayori can't hear it. "You're gonna be okay, Monika," Sayori says quietly. A strange promise.

"Please focus on yourself," Monika finds herself saying. "After everything I put you through…" Just let me live in this deleted void. Forget I was ever there. Please.

"You said it yourself. It's scripted."

"I could have stopped it if I had just… if I had just…" Monika furrows her eyebrows. She should be able to think of something she could have done. It…

"I hate seeing you like this," Sayori admits, cushioning Monika's head into the crook of her neck. "We're gonna be okay. Forgive yourself." Sayori is quiet, then: "If our places were switched—"

"Sayori—?"

"—And it had been me, scripted to hurt all of you, would you forgive me?" Monika gaped.

"Of course! Why would I punish you for something out of your control?"

Sayori sighs. "Now turn it around. Same thing, Monika. Please."

"It's different."

"You're quite something, Monika," Sayori mumbles. Monika's trying not to sob, but that just leads to her chest spasming wildly. Sayori repositions so her head is on top of Monika's, a shield of sorts. "Breathe with me, okay? In… Hold… Out. You're doing great." It takes a few minutes until Monika is calmer, and then Monika hugs back shakily. Loosely. As if she was worried her hands were poison.

"It should have been me," Monika says, tone soft. Sayori hums in confusion. "Like, I know now that whoever is club president has this… knowledge. And that it doesn't go away, considering I'm out of the game," Monika explains, "but… you're better with considering others than I am."

"You're very considerate too, Monika," Sayori points out. Monika shrugs from within the hug.

"Where I can only feel it, you can express your compassion and empathy and diffuse a situation using those. Without you, Natsuki and Yuri's fight escalated," Monika said. "I couldn't find the right things to say. If you had been there…"

"Monika?"

"Sorry." Monika blinks tiredly. "What I'm saying is that you would have been a better president. It should have been me." It clicks in.

"Hey, no." Sayori's words are fast. "It shouldn't have been either of us. Don't talk like that."

"Hurt you again," Monika realizes. Sayori tightens the hug.

"No. I… Monika, please come back to the literature club. If it's cursed, at least it'll be us four. Natsuki and Yuri could get along, and maybe…" Sayori chuckles humorlessly, "with me also being in on it you could connect more. It always seemed odd to me at first," Sayori says, "how disconnected you were from everything. And you know about me and Natsuki and Yuri. We can all get to really know each other now, if you come back." Sayori tests the waters. "And I know about you," she adds, and Monika squeezes her eyes shut.

"What?" But she already knows.

"Anxiety and dissociation. And migraines." She holds Monika's hand and squeezes it. "Your panic attacks were so bad that you had to be hospitalized before, and then you moved to our area right before our first year of high school. It was really deep in your file. Sorry for snooping," Sayori's voice is warm. There's no judgement. "You fit in perfectly in our little dysfunction junction," Sayori jokes, but there's no real humor to it. "Please, come back."

Monika is completely silent. So silent she could have played dead. Then: "are you sure I won't mess everything up?"

"I'm sure," Sayori reassures. She plants a kiss on the top of Monika's forehead.

"I… okay. But," Monika's voice is shaky despite her attempts to sound firm, "if I hurt any of you, do not stop me from deleting myself. Delete me yourself if you have to." Sayori clutches her so tightly it feels like she's digging into Monika.

"Mon…"

"Please," Monika begs, and Sayori sighs.

"Okay." She lets go of Monika and stands, offering her hand to Monika, who takes it. They look at the glitchy wall of code, and Sayori opens the window, types and manipulates, and Monika becomes dizzy. "Sorry; it's disorienting to have your file moved." Even more I put them through. "Come here, VP." VP? "Well, co-co-vice president. Three vice presidents. Sayori certified leader board." Of course.

Monika smiles tiredly. "Lead the way, Club President Sayori."

Monika/Sayori is something I would die for and it shows.
I've always felt like it would be interesting if Monika saw that she was never really in control. I've looked at think pieces that note she was never truly free, and I ran with that.

Feel free to tune in for this sporadic drabble dump. No quality assurance team or betas, we die like men.
Love y'all and see y'all around.