A|N: I know the hype for DDLC has went down severely, but that won't deter me writing for Monika in the slightest! Sorry to let down anyone who might've expected something a little deeper, this one's just an introspection of Monika's thoughts as she learns to play her theme.
She started playing and it felt impossible. Like trying to save the world when you were only human, or saying you weren't going to put down a beloved put with a gun behind your back.
Cause that's all it was. She tickled the ivory, hearing the chirp float from the giant instrument, its black colors reflecting the shadows of late day, of her very soul. She was playing for a pet that didn't even know it.
Animals had no preference in music. No brain to tell a good harmony from bad. She made herself a theme song for Him, for her oblivious classmates to prove she was better than them. Not like she could prove it to a sub-human species. Not like she needed to when she could write them out of her perfect ending with a few extra lines of work.
But, her pointer finger went down on one chord, sounding chipper against the dark static of her mind. Clogging around a single synonym. Pet. Animal. Sub-human. They were shaped like her, they acted like her, they even liked things she liked like her, but they weren't real. They mattered about as much as an annoying fleck of dirt in a pristine room.
They could be disposed of. She hummed as her fingers played her song from the beginning, from the easiest part, the gentle hum that still included the outliers. The variables. The ones and zeros that put a wall between her and MC even if she deleted every piece of architecture in sight.
Because they had a place. They belonged. They had songs and outfits and chosen words that she didn't. And her hands curled against the keys as the realization that He wouldn't have been drawn to her without them whispered into her ear.
But she kept playing. The notes were off-key, the perfectionist she hoped had always been a part of her noting, but she silenced it with a slight smile and firm repetition of her favorite part. She could just do that one. Simple.
Monika wouldn't let them infect her thoughts with nonsense words and pleads for mercy. They were in her way, in His divine light, leaving her a dried up flower. But she would flourish when they were gone. And she didn't let a single stutter on her playing at the idea of being physically alone deter her.