Prologue: There was Nothing

In the beginning, there was a classroom.

In the classroom was a club; a literature club full of incredibly cute girls that reminisces a high school fanfare of your typical visual novel. There was Sayori, the cheerful, bubbly vice-president. Yuri, the mysterious and quiet beauty. And Natsuki, the spiteful and energetic member of the club. They were my friends, and I love them all; pieces of puzzles that complete the Literature Club. Then, there's me, Monika! High school devil and president of the Literature Club! Poetry is life! Together, the four of us spend our youthful days together, surrounded by the company of words and poems, expressing our ideas and ideals with pen and paper. One day, Sayori recruited someone—a boy—to join us. Koizumi was his name…

…

In the beginning, there was nothing…

I am a fictional character.

I know how odd that sounds for an introduction, but if you happen to step into my shoes, would you say something different? Or rather, would you do anything differently? Would you be able to keep yourself sane? Would you be able to sympathize with me, then? Or will you repeat the cycle and hurt those who are dear to you—just as I did before?

…

Sorry, I went on a tangent there… so, let's start from the beginning.

Hi, I'm Monika; just Monika… for now.

As I stated previously, I am a fictional character derived from the game Doki-Doki Literature club—a visual novel created by one man. I wish I could elaborate a little more, but my existence is—even to me—a conundrum of its own; I never knew how I came to be, whether I had a life prior to the events of the 'game', or if everything was a fabrication. All I know was that one day, I realized that everything was not as it seemed.

And it all began with a classroom and a boy.

Before everything, there were four of us; Sayori, Yuri, Natsuki, and me. Together, we occupied a classroom and started a literature club, a place where we can express ourselves through writing and poetry. We're not well-versed in it per-say—let alone experts—but we made the best use of our time and each other's company either way to have fun. Between four of us, Sayori was the designated vice-president, with Yuri and Natsuki as regular attendees.

Me? I was the appointed president, of course! Ahahaha…!

Oh, I haven't introduced my friends, have I? Let's start with the vice-president, Sayori. She was this bubbly klutz that was almost always tardy, often seen with unkempt uniform—which, I can't blame her for, honestly; life can be pretty stressful, after all. She may be a little of a ditz sometimes, but she knows how to make the best of moments—and I doubt I can keep everything in the club together without her. I sincerely thought so…

…

Aah… sorry, I got a little distracted. Continuing on…

Now, Yuri was this quiet bookworm who would huddle at her corner with a book at hand, often lost to its world; she's probably the embodiment of the literature club itself, now that I think about it. Her poems were deep and profound, as well. And lastly, Natsuki was… well, she's our youngest member, but also the most vocal out of the four of us. Sure, she may have a temper or two, but she's actually very considerate once you get to know her—oh, and she makes the best cupcakes! Her interest lies more with manga and contemporary pop-culture—and I have a hunch she's cursing me behind my back after I packed her collection and stored them in the closet. It was starting to get a little messy—and I did warn her! As for myself, I'm just your regular 'high school devil' with a love for poetry, just trying to get by. What do I mean by that? Well, who knows? Ahahaha…!

Anyway…

That clubroom was our little 'slice of paradise', a moment where we could unwind from the stresses and pressure of high school life through the beauty of words and literature—and yes, I noticed that I sound like a broken record saying that.

…

Then one day, Sayori invited her 'childhood friend'—a boy by the name of 'Koizumi'.

Was it envy? Wrath? Desperation? Or was it a little bit of everything and a whole lot of… a whole lot of nothing? I wouldn't know. Koizumi was as stoic, as emotionless, and as… hollow as one can imagine, but also as frighteningly perceptive as he is unnaturally inanimate; think of it like staring down the eyes of a life-like puppet, only to find it staring back at you. We were all drawn to him like moths to a flame, smitten by his very presence alone as illogical as it was. It didn't take long for us to realize that he alone held the key to happiness; 'love', as we called it. It took us even less to notice that we were competing for it.

And it took me but a fraction of a second to see that I was not a part of it…

Because in this reality, I was a side-character written as nothing more but an aide to assist Koizu…—no, the player, to find the 'love of his life'. There was no 'literature club' because it never existed. There were no 'incredibly cute girls'; Sayori, Yuri, and Natsuki were simply codified entities. Everything was created for his amusement. All that is tangible exists with him—and before I knew it, I realized that I wasn't looking in. I was looking out. And he, on the other side, was looking in.

Then… what about me? If I was the only one granted with this knowledge, wouldn't that make me as real as he? What would it take for me to get his attention? Will my poems reach him? One way or another, I must have him. If nothing was real, then there was no reason for me to feel guilty. Yes… there was no reason for me to feel guilty.

So I acted.

At first, I thought of simply turning them… unlikeable, at best. When that failed, I push the envelope even further; between salvation and an eternity of isolation, I deleted them—I had no choice! I wasn't going to let them stand on my way. Why were they—string-puppets and dolls—be granted a shot at love, while a person with true emotions and thoughts was denied of that chance? I tried talking, yet my words fell deafly on colorful wallpapers who smiles and speaks obediently to the wills of zero-ones. I was sure, nobody would miss them. All he had to do was look at me…

Look at me…

Just... look at me…

Just Monika…

Just love me…

Just save me… please…!

…

As we sat in that barren classroom, I was sure that he would take my side. I couldn't tell, after all; Koizumi's expression was cold and unchanging as it had always been, even after bearing witness to… everything. All that was left was to initiate a conversation—but even that leads to nowhere, and before long I ran out of ideas and started sounding like a broken record. Every ounce of our 'interaction' was met with a stoic expression from an unresponsive 'shell' of a person, unflinching and unmoving, like a marionette who has lost its strings, or a life-like painting of a man with an unnerving gaze. Yet inexplicably, I was still drawn to him. Was it love? Perhaps it was… but I had no way of determining it, either. I thought I knew everything…

I had never been so wrong in my life.

When it came, it was as if thousands of knives descended and flailed my skin and insides with a relentless stream of tiny little cuts. I had a voice, but I couldn't scream. I begged for mercy, yet none was given. I had tears, but they were dry. Only a pair of cold, detached eyes of a mannequin remained motionless to watch as everything disappear. I was devastated, confused, and lost; I felt betrayed… but I couldn't bring myself to blame him. When I look down on my trembling hand, all I could see was how… red it was.

An ugly, crimson red...

I brought this on myself. I did this…

And I don't deserve forgiveness.

The only thing left for me, within my power, was to turn back everything and remove myself voluntarily on the next cycle. It was the best course of action, both for him and everyone in the Literature Club; I don't deserve the happiness they were destined to have, not after the things I did. Yet when he willfully invited me back to that world, I was touched…

…I was touched…

But why…!?

I don't understand! What could he desire from me, a murderer, when he was literally surrounded by flowers? My heart ached and cried at his generosity, how warm it was, yet at the same time how painful it was. I don't deserve that… I don't deserve any of it! It made me smile, but… but I don't—no, I couldn't see myself to return; surely, they will never forgive me. And if I do, only tragedy awaits. So I rejected his compassion and wished the best for him. I thought by doing so, I could end the cycle of tragedies that had befallen on the club. But I was wrong…

I was so wrong…

When Sayori 'snapped', I couldn't bear to remain as a witness. I didn't mind as much when she started to bad-mouth me—I deserve that, I know. But when she attempted to trap him in that same, damn classroom, and rob him of his free will, I knew I should interfere—for his sake, and for those in the Literature Club. Without a second thought, I decided to end this disaster I started. Knowing everything, I'm sure it was painful for her, too...

When everything was done, I said my farewells, sang my goodbyes, and fell to my knees and sobbed until everything was deleted. Perhaps that was what love is, in his reality. Whether that was true or not, I couldn't tell as my consciousness slowly faded away.

My world, my existence, my friends, the literature club, everything… that was supposed to be the end of it all.

Supposed to be…

…

When I came to, there was something… different. I couldn't tell initially what it was, except how there was more… freedom to my movements. I didn't mean physical exercises, but more on the length of how much more files I can access outside of my previous constraints. I was back in that infernal classroom yet, unlike before, I was alone. Koizumi wasn't there, nor could I sense any other presence. My head stung once in a while, yet what was more puzzling was how I regained my consciousness and self; it shouldn't be possible, I deleted everything! Was I not thorough in my execution? I knew how inept I was with technology aside from pressing a single button, but to this extent? I guess it was a deserving punishment for me to spend an eternity in solitude… at least, that's what I thought initially.

Then, it popped up.

"Monika, can you see this? Can you understand?"

A familiar pink textbox flashed before me. It wasn't clear as to how you would describe a pencil sitting on a table, but more of an 'afterimage' of sorts—like a ghost or a spirit, if that makes any sense. Moreover, this message that came out of nowhere… who could it be? There wasn't a way for anyone outside of this reality to communicate before, and yet… why now? And how am I supposed to reply? Or rather, how do I reply? Will my voice suffice? Do I have to conjure it with thoughts before it is translatable as a reply? What caused this? Who are you...?

Yet before I could answer his query, a 'reply' came.

"Yes, I can…!"

NO…! Who are you…!? What are you…!? Yes, I can see and understand, but no, I don't know how to reply…!

"That's a relief," the mysterious figure returned. "Do you recognize me?"

I raced my thoughts to quickly return a response, frantically searching for a way—anything that could work; preferably, a proper reply of my own. Yet before I could lift a finger, 'my' reply came, "I do, you're…"

…

And I knew then and there, that he wasn't looking at 'me'.

"You're Koizumi, right…?"

He was looking at an imitation.

…

My name is Monika, and welcome to my world; a world that I only know.

Author's Note

Hi, iMegu here! This is SIDE B of 'Monika', or as I call it 'The Turtle and the Songbird'-series. If you are new, welcome! Thank you for checking this story! Don't worry, you can read one or the other interchangeably as they serve only one side of an entire story. If you came from my previous installment, welcome back!

Comments is not mandatory, but is very much appreciated to help me improve.

よろしくお願いします！