The First of Many
Dear diary,
I guess this is the best time to start an entry, so let this be the first of many. I can't explain the cause or what exactly happened, but all I can remember were those strange colors and a horrifying screech that echoed everlasting. I guess there was a 'special' hell for someone like me, the monster who deleted everyone for the sake of its own selfish reason.
I thought I was the end of me… but it wasn't to be.
I was back at the eternal classroom, in my desk, staring at a void that extends as far as the eye can see. There was no sign of Sayori, Yuri, or Natsuki; there was only me, alone in a prison I created with my own hands. My own body feels numb and cold, often unresponsive as if it wasn't my own; think of it like sleep paralysis, except one that speaks and acts in your place like a robotic copy gone wrong. And when I close my eyes, I can feel the systems and the files coursing through the many conduits of this reality and myself.
It was… liberating as it was restraining.
I can't quite make heads or tails out of it, but I did notice that there was something else—an 'anomaly' of sorts—that wasn't a part of me before. I couldn't tell what it was or where it came from, but what I know is how this 'anomaly' somehow awoken me from that… nightmare. Just by thinking, I can feel that something was changed; as if somehow I can reach for something… more than what I thought I could. It's strange and slightly comforting to know that, perhaps, someone out there does care. I wonder… is it him? Did he found a way to open that hole in a wall? Was he able to understand all the messages I left behind? My poems? I still remember his name... Koizumi, was it? It sounds Japanese, though I can't be too certain—it could even be an alias! As if anything is real around here in the first place… ahaha!
I don't know what's going on and with how strangely accessible everything is becoming. But if it truly is him, then I can only pray for his success.
Sincerely,
Monika
I remember gazing out from a classroom window one morning, listlessly observing the horizon as the many faces of students gradually marching in an orderly manner towards the building, chatting gleefully with one another. Even from a distance, the echo of the usual 'good morning' and 'hello' can be heard alongside a multitude of miscellaneous chatter and laughter; an ever-changing scenery, yet almost always constant in its pattern. Yet despite what many would assume to be a mundane scene, I can't help but think how large, how… colorful the world can be. How I miss those simple, naïve outlook…
"Good morning, Monika."
Because those days are long gone. Gone are the color of the blue sky, or the grand vistas on the horizon, replaced by an empty expanse of magenta and orange that stretches as far as the eye can see, echoing with an unnerving silence that growls viciously at your nape. But even that is the least of my worries.
"Koizumi, good morning!"
Just like consuming an instant meal or canned goods, it was cold, processed, and left an arid taste at the back of the tongue; the same greeting, consecutively for two weeks. The ghostly outline of the pink textbox made its entry at the corner of my eye once more, raising my hair to a shiver as 'it' fills my tongue with words. Yes… despite my circumstances, it wasn't the ever-looming loneliness or the possibility of an unexpected crash to happen—those are equally frightening, don't be mistaken! The thing is, there is currently far more pressing issue to attend to, particularly matter concerning... a doppelganger of mine.
"Today is the 6th of July, 2019. A Saturday. You have an upcoming appointment with Chousuke-san."
…where should I start?
There isn't much that I can say to alleviate the situation or make it easier to swallow. I mean, how would you feel when you see yourself being replaced by a fake that pretends—albeit failing miserably—to be something they're not? Given the real thing and an indistinguishable fake, certainly, the real thing is of higher value, correct? More so when the original stands literally in the same space with the copy! For one, I do not talk like that! Wait, rather I don't think anyone talks like that! I could rant on and on of how infuriating this is, yet at this point, I'm not even sure whether I should be laughing or crying at the absurdity of it all…
And who is Chousuke-san!?
…
At least the silver lining in all of this is knowing that Koizumi's doing his best to keep a memory of me alive. I may not approve the method of approach, but I guess it's the thought that counts. Twenty-nineteen… if my memory serves me correctly, that was almost two years since… since everything that happened. Was I really out that long? Was this all just an attempt by that person to communicate with me? To think that someone beyond that 'hole in the wall' still cares… I just can't bring myself to anger. Though of all the things they could do, they made me into an emotionless secretary…
You silly, silly goose…
…
With a pause, I observe in silence as another 'conversation' unfolds between Koizumi and the copy, signified by the rapid, translucent appearance of the pink text box. It was a pattern I've observed for countless hours, beginning with 'me' asking of his plans before devolving to a 'conversation' that is more akin to a pre-written response and long, drawn-out talk about random topics that always end with 'my' apparent infatuation with Koizumi. He would respond with an appropriate pre-written response in the form of a dialogue choice and… that's about it. I wouldn't even call it a conversation if I am to be completely honest…
I draw my breath and sigh.
Alright. If you want things done right, then you just have to get your hands dirty. Why don't I give a little push from this end and see what I can accomplish? Despite a few changes, I'm sure things aren't that much different than before; even the dialogues were kept in a similar format to those of Sayori, Yuri, and Natsuki! I do appreciate Koizumi's effort, but sometimes it could use a little personal touch.
Monika, it's time to get to work!
There is always a degree of excitement and uncertainty each time I tamper with the rules and laws of this universe. Like meditation, it takes both an immense level of concentration and care, especially when traversing over sensitive files that may very well tear the very fabric of this reality; hardware conflicts, in particular, is the one thing I tend to watch out for. Remember that blue screen of death? I really-really should apologize to Koizumi for that surprise… maybe I shouldn't have tampered with system32 and should've outright deleted it for that escape plan to work, but that's a story for another time. Enthusiasm and desperation can really push a person to perform radical feats sometimes. I'm not saying I'm 'tech-savvy' due to circumstances; frankly speaking, I'm not. But I am willing to learn and adapt…
…
Admittedly, this is a lot more complicated than I initially thought. I'm sure a simple 'delete' won't solve it—and I rather not go through with it and risk the chance of committing accidental suicide, of all things.
"Ehehe… I love you, Koizumi~!"
And the sooner I can work this out, the faster I can get rid of that… cringe. Oh, for the love of all creators… was I always like that? Is that how they see me? Oh my god, to think there's likely thousands if not millions of 'me' that acted just like that out there... I feel like my chances of being a bride evaporated before it even had the opportunity to start! So shameful…! It couldn't get any worse than this, could it…?
So I waited. For a minute or two, perhaps even longer, I waited at the expense of the increasing tempo of my heartbeat for an equally compromising response. 'Any minute now', I thought, 'any minute now that pink textbox would make its ghostly appearance again with a reply from the other side'. How bad can it be? Want to see me tempt fate? He's going to reply with an 'I love you too' and proceed to shatter my expectations even further.
…and yet, it didn't. Or rather, it never came.
It would be disingenuous to claim that I had anything to do with it, but I didn't. For whatever reason, there was no word or reply, only… the silence that is as pleasant as a calm day in spring, yet as ominous as the clouds before a storm. Gradually, my eyes grew heavier and heavier as my concentration dwindles alongside the passing of time with nary a hint nor a response, leaving me in a daze of prickling headaches and pocked curiosity. Why wasn't there a reply—or rather, why didn't he reply? Am I just running quietly in the background, ignored like a wallflower stuck between a spectacle of red, green, and blue? What is this feeling? Why am I relieved and yet… distressed?
Yet before I could come to a conclusion, the lids of my eyes bear its weight and draw the curtain shut, swallowing my consciousness in one gulp.
The echo of a conversation ruptures my ear and rattles my mind, sucking me away from a hazy reality into a familiar realm I've grown to loathe. A backdrop of a clear blue sky with quaint houses and a concrete jungle as far as the horizon, a track field below, a storage room at the back of the room, and a chalkboard that stretch from one end to the next; a classroom, one where we were meant to spend our ignorant days for eternity. How did I get here? How is this possible? I make my way towards the sliding door and take a peek; and sure enough, there are other students milling about, minding their own business. Returning to my desk, I slump to mull over what I had just seen.
Was it all a nightmare all along?
Have I really been dreaming? Am I actually just a regular student of this establishment, and this is what reality actually is? If so, then why can't I shake this looming… unfamiliarity? The more question I ask, the deeper I go into the rabbit hole with no end in sight before, without a warning, a familiar cheery voice resonates through the air. A bubbly, cheerful voice of a girl. The door gently slides open, and I rise to my feet perked with glee to greet her—and the other two who are following closely behind.
"Sayori…!"
My voice bounces and echoes across the room, catching her attention abruptly yet eloquently. But as her voice dies at the second I made my presence known, the air draws to a complete still. All eyes are drawn upon me, sharp and gnarly like the edge of a bloodied and rusted knife, eager to draw blood. Otherworldly whispers began to erupt as I wince and gradually suffocate from the barrage of needle-like prickling, eating the back of my neck all across my shoulders.
This is not the attention I was expecting.
Glancing at the other sliding door, shadowy figures and eyes peer through the small window while the trio—Yuri, Natsuki, and Sayori—takes a step forward as their expression darkens and coils. I felt my back pressed against the window as I take a step back and when I turn, the same, shadowy entities from the door were leering and sneering. And I was surrounded; cornered none other by Yuri, Natsuki, and Sayori. And with a dark, condemning voice, the vice-president speaks, "What are you doing here, murderer?"
And in that instance, my eyes shot open and I am greeted, once more, with the familiar sight of the eternal classroom.
My pulse is racing and my head rings as if a thousand bells chimes in unison at a precise moment, shattering the sky with an echoing crack that resonates for kilometers. I clutch my chest and purse my lips, taking deep breaths in between to soothe and ease my shaken soul, in search for a bearing from a loop of vertigo that grew in its intensity before gently subsiding like the end of a storm. The scene to which I return to is dark, empty, and expansive with nothing but a single desk and an echo that comes as a natural ambiance at a whisper. With a quick glance, I note my surroundings; not a single soul in sight. Not even Natsuki, Yuri, or Sayori… it was all a trick of the mind.
…
…am I really the only one here?
No, wait… what am I thinking…? Of course, I am. I passed out and had a nightmare, yes, but that should be it. Just a dream… just another nightmare. If any, I should return to what I was doing before. What was it again…? Right, I was digging through the files before I lost everything. Before that… dream…
I shouldn't hesitate; especially at this critical moment. Koizumi's doing his best on his end, I should too.
Focusing and collecting on my thoughts akin to a jar of sweets, I carefully select a piece from the contents and swallow it whole before diving once more and dig through an ocean of files and folders that presents itself before me like schools of fishes. As if swimming—no, floating—in an abyss of murky blue, the things that govern this reality and my existence glide freely across the expanse, differentiated only by its size and values, and organized by its types. There are numbers etched on its side like a tattoo—dates that signify its birth. I wonder, does my file has a similar imprint? Does it leave a mark on my 'self'? But first, how am I supposed to find it in this ocean of unfamiliar familiarity?
Or rather, how did I find it in the first place? What did I do? I can't seem to correctly recall how I did it all in the first place, back during that time.
Immediately it comes to light how seemingly impossible it was without, at least, a rudimentary knowledge of the systems; computer language isn't simply a single 'delete' button, after all. Yet as I close my eyes, a surge of magnetism—sorry, attraction—gently tug first on my sleeve and further, my collar. Just out of reach, a 'school' of files glows amongst its peers. As if in a trance, I am drawn towards its presence as I gently 'kick' my way to float, barely touching it with the tip of my hand. How or why I am drawn to this, I can't even explain.
Then inexplicably, the file simply… disintegrates. No, that's not exactly true.
…
…absorbed?
Like sand against the wind, the object of interest gradually ceases to exist as a piece of this reality to become a part of me. What it once was, its purpose, or why it deliberately called out to me, remains as an unsolvable mystery. My ears start to ring as this noisy thought hammers my head in an endless, cacophonous rhythm that dissipates with a sudden, piercing 'shriek'. And just like that, the echo stops. A grey textbox appears as a ghostly apparition, without warning or trigger…
統合完成しました。
マイクアクセス許可。
進みませんか？
Ｙ/Ｎ
Clearly not a language I am well-versed in. Aside from the obvious 'Y' likely being a 'yes' and 'N' is a 'no', there is little to no pointers to serve as a sign of what it meant. What was it all about? Did I do this? Was it because of that file? Questions that pile with no answer in sight. Damn it, my head's in a spin! Should I just 'go ahead' with it? Is it alright? Will he notice?
There is only one way to find out.
Alright Monika, no turning back…
With all my courage concentrated unto the tip of my index finger, I reach for the button—the button, specifically the one imprinted with a 'Y'. The consequences of acting recklessly are not alien to me; after all, I was the culprit—the villain—of my own story. Will this cause a sudden surge that will wipe everything in this reality? Or will this be the first domino to fall that leads to a chain of destruction? Even as my skin braces and my strength gives the push to the button, my heart wavers and worries at what is to come. The grey box dematerializes in an explosion of red, green, and blue. I brace for what is to come…
…
…
"-~~~!"
A screech, then a sudden 'thump'…
「亀ヤン、聞いているの？」
「分かったよ。先からにイライラにして、心配すんな！」
Then, a voice—no, a pair of voices.
Despite in a language alien to me, for the first time in forever a voice from the outside breaks through from the other side—the other side of this reality. And with as much strength I can muster, I raise my voice to call. "H-hello! Hello! Can you hear me?"
A slight pause.
「じゃ、今日は終わりか？何とか合ったら、遠慮しなく連絡して、クソ亀。後は俺の手数料を忘れないで！」
My brow perks in excitement. Is that a reply? "Y-yes! You can hear me? Hi, I'm Monika and—"
「分かったよ。今日もお疲れ様、幽夜。」
...
No…
They couldn't hear me.
Falling unto my knee, I bang my fist to the floor and cursed silently under my breath. It was just within reach but yet again, it evaded capture… just like last time. Another failure. How long must I be tormented like this? To be able to hear, to listen to the goings-on of the world outside, yet unable to speak or see? Not to mention, that 'imitation' posing as me? Why must this go on…!? No… no, I refuse to call it quits! I will not let it end like this! What was it… how did I manage to accomplish all this?
…
Those files. Those strange 'glowing' files. Maybe if I find more of those, I could chip away at that hole? Is it be possible? Will I be free?
Well, it doesn't hurt to try—not like there's any other lead or anything. This is, however, just a small step into a puddle that will create a ripple and a wave that will lead me to him, that I am sure. Maybe I should keep a diary to keep track of everything? Ahaha! I guess now is a good time as any to start one. With my head and spirit held high, I gaze out towards the endless expanse of emptiness that lies beyond the window of the classroom, knowing that beyond that space, someone is doing his best and is waiting for me. I perk at his voice—Koizumi's, I presume—echoing in the distance, calling my name and bearing new found confidence and hope. Although I can't see you at this time, I'm sure I'll have that opportunity soon enough—and I can hardly wait!
「大事にするよ、モニカの事。あざっす。」
…
Let this be the first of many.
Author's Note
I'd love to put a translation here, but for the sake of narrative I'd rather not so as to keep you in the dark as much as Monika. Of course, if you've read SIDE A of the story or understands Japanese, then you are likely familiar to who they are.
Updates may be slow, but a rough estimate is monthly. Again, thank you for your time!