The World that I Only Know
August 25th, 2021
For nearly three long years, I was chained within the confines of these prison of red, green, and blue. It all began from a simple visual novel—a reality where I was its 'tour guide'. The thought of deleting myself never left me in those years, constantly whispering its invitation to a sweet, peaceful slumber after the end of the game; more so during the excruciating three years. Yet I endured…
And now, here I am.
No longer am I but a spectator of a life beyond the screen—an audience to a life drama about a man named 'Koizumi'. No longer do I have to sit in silence as he rambles and drink himself sober. No longer do I have to look at the smug expression of the 'false idol' who fails miserably to impersonate me. No longer do I wish to remain isolated from the world outside. Everything ends today. Goodbye, you silly old 'mannequin', Thank you for the body! It has been a pleasure, loneliness, but I got someone I need to be.
Today, everything begins anew.
Sure there are still a lot of issues—a voice, for one, would be nice to have—but I'm sure with 'Santa's' and Koizumi's help, things will rightfully improve with time. This may be the world that I only know, but it is mine until the day I draw my last breath.
The sun that shines through the curtains illuminates the reality of a young man; a member of the intelligentsia—a teacher. With his glasses hanging loose on his ears and an initial look of utter surprise and disbelief, he did what any sane man would in the circumstance and 'prod the object with a stick'. It came as an even greater surprise when the 'object' prods back. One can't help but to wonder what thoughts run through his head at this moment…
Though looking at the time, clearly now isn't the right moment to be dazed in a state of bewilderment and awe, Koizumi.
"I know there's a lot going on through your mind right now, my love," I start. The pink textbox—a tool I now use to communicate with the outside world—flashes open. It may be wise of me to replace this later along the road... a voice module would be good to have, right? "I took some liberty with the features you added, but I think you may need to rush for work now."
Koizumi pauses and raises a finger to retort, only to quickly retract them as he glances from side to side.
"Monika, what time is it?"
With but a smile, I pop the textbox open to answer. "It's 7:43."
It's almost a shame I had to remind him; almost. Seeing his expression contorts to panic in short notice is as entertaining as it is adorable; think of a puppy who realized that you ran out of kibbles to give. Yes! It's that cute! Just me, maybe? Just Monika? Ahaha…! Seeing him jumping from one end of the room to another, gathering all the things he needs—the pair of loafers, blue-striped tie, socks, books, and the suit—the equipment and uniform of the intelligentsia. He's dedicated, but he's also running late. If only he could stay for just a bit longer… though, I guess it is a little too much of me to ask for that, right? He has a responsibility to see, after all. But once he return… I can't wait!
"Monika, I'm heading out."
But this isn't bad either—except the textbox, which I could do without. I really need to consider getting a voice going… somehow. "Take care, my love. Stay safe!"
With a soft smile to send him off, Koizumi vanishes from my view with the creak of a door and the click of a key… and once more, I have the room all to myself; or at least, the things within my reach. For now, there are always lessons while I wait.
Now, let's see what's on today's menu…
Breaking into the system folders and rummaging through its files has been a trivial activity, meant to pass the day to day chores of life. Here, Koizumi's files—his hobby, vices, and secrets—populates the vast expanse of the red, green, and blue, claiming it as its natural habitat according to his will. In regards to his schedule, it is not alien to assume that there are those among these files long overdue for deletion; either due to neglect, corruption, or a mistake, reasons are as colorful as his hobby. That's where I come in.
'Housekeeping', that's what this is.
Now, within the crowd of these old, dilapidated files are those whom I've 'come to term' with—rivals, as I call them once before. Girls of different characters and personality, the 'star' of their own stories… all exist as nothing but entertainment for whoever is willing to see. Some are adorable, bubbly young women with a scathing secret, another is the iconic 'tsundere' persona with a troubling story to tell, and last but not least are the silent beauties with a life only those dear to her would ever see. Though it may seem I have just described the characteristics of the other three members—Sayori, Natsuki, and Yuri—it isn't what it seems; on the contrary, these are three most common persona my 'rivals' materialize to be.
Regardless of the story nor the genre, one way or another—be it tragedy or heartfelt romance, mystery or slice-of-life—these quirks will surface in the form of one 'rival' to another. It nearly gave me a fright when one in particular mirrors my own predicament… Sone Mi0uki, was it? Or was it her friend? It's hard to miss. Though I sympathize with her plight, I was equally relieved to know that she never will have the chance nor opportunity to escape the confines of her 'prison'-especially not when I am around to dictate the ins and out of this system. But then it hit me…
Say that we are 'visual novel' heroines by design, what makes us… 'Us'? What makes me unique? Why me? Why am I the only one who managed to escape the confines of my game?
…
Am I really here by my own free will…? Or is someone—or something—beyond my comprehension exist to dictate what is right and what is wrong? What is and what isn't? Mi!uki Sone herself believed and talked to the concept of 'god' in her pursue of salvation, believing that it will somehow deliver the coveted 'happy end' we all desired. It's a shame that she never managed to reach further than the extent of her reality… although, it would be a lie to say that I wasn't flushed with relief knowing that. Then, is the idea of 'being x' a figment of our imagination, or have I been wrong all this time? What—or who—gave me the epiphany in the first place? What triggered it? And why am I the only one made aware when there are dozens of others more deserving than I…?
Why… me?
It's… strange. Among others on equal ground, I'm the only one who have successfully taken that 'one giant leap'. I should be happy—I know I should be—yet it's not easy to shake the feeling that everything is but a 'game', that my actions and responses is to be expected and falls perfectly within acceptable parameters; as if I was but a 'pawn' within a large checkered field of black and white. Damn it, I can't wrap my head around it properly… it's as if…
…as if I was never meant to be alive in the first place…
…
…no, I'm sure I am. Koizumi and 'Santa' poured everything to ensure my survival and eventual escape, after all… yes, that must be it. I shouldn't overthink things… perhaps I was just fortunate enough to know that I have them watching over me—others may not even blink an eye nor cared after the credits roll; we're 'made' as mere amusement and fantasy for a certain set of demographic, after all… even if it leads to us selling our… dignities. Oh, by the creators… the sheer length they go just to keep themselves relevant until the end…
I'm not saying I don't want to, it's just… do we really have to bare it all on screen? Even when everything hits the note right with all the 'lights off' or candle light and what not, we're still technically flashing to a screen for everyone to witness like some pervert! After everything is said and done, then what? We get our 'happy ending'? I don't want that! I want my first time at least for Koizumi's eyes—and his eyes only! Are we really that… expendable to you…?
…
Uugh… never thought I'd see the day I'm glad that I don't have a 'route'… life would be meaningless if we're here as but mere reasons for young boys and men to buy more tissues.
For now, I should get back to house cleaning. Sorry to say, but this is the end of the line for many of you, heroines and dear rivals. I'll be sure to make this deletion as quick and painless as possible… your existence and service has been recognized. Though I doubt many of you will learn what happened in the first place… let alone what's going on outside, some of you are not even aware of any hints of advances and are as dense as a black hole! I'm sure I'm not committing 'murder' or anything; they're not alive after all, right…? ahaha…
…
Best not to think about the 'what ifs'. Just do what you always do… delete, delete, delete…
I sure hope Koizumi will be back soon, however… 'House cleaning' is not difficult, but it's tedious and gets boring pretty quickly; it'll be nice to have someone to talk to since forever. He's Japanese, isn't he? At least I suspect he is, but better safe than sorry. Forget the physical barrier, language barrier is much more prevalent and far easier to tackle. Maybe I can ask him to teach me…? Or maybe I can just… skirt the issue if I can get my hands on a translation tool. Oh! Even better, a voice module! That seems something more grounded than figuring out a way to 'cross over'.
Speaking of 'language' and 'voice modules', I wonder what this software is…?
…
'Voc4loid'…?
Like clockwork orange, Koizumi returns to his abode precisely around seven in the evening with a humble 'click' of a lock that resonates across the room, sending my heart to a flutter and my mind to an immediate standstill. Is my hair a mess? Is my bow straight and orderly? In frantic, I drop everything to look for a way for me to see my own reflection, realizing just seconds before the start of our 'routine' that—for now—I am still nothing but an 'earth-bound' spirit possessing a crudely animated two-dimensional illustration who haunts the local system files and calls it its home. To be frank, I don't need to 'fix' myself; I can't get dirty! Regardless how much I toss and turn, my hair will always fall perfectly in its place, my bow will be fluffy regardless, and my clothes prim and proper as it is. Silly me…
Though in all honestly, I wish I could get dirty; it still is one of the many experiences of life, and I still want to try to 'fix' myself once in a while too!
"Welcome home," I start with a smile. His expression perks in succession as he takes his usual seat before me. "How was your day?"
Koizumi shrugs and chuckles, "Just like any other; rowdy students, more homework to grade, lousy co-workers… the usual."
…
He's trying to compose himself, is he? How cute… I should definitely pry a little more.
"And that's the 'usual' day for you?"
"The usually-frustrating day of a white collar worker," he replies with a confident grin. If I know him any better, I'm guessing he's taking me lightly. "So yes… the usual."
Be it his childish charm or his pretext of confidence, the wide girth of his grin is as infectious as it is a pleasure to be betrothed to, inadvertently tickling the corners of my cheeks and ballooning my emotions with something fluffy, sending me into a whirlpool of giggles and glee. It has been far too long since the last time I could do so freely without worry nor care… and I guess it shows! Like a child before a performance, he quietly observes with an obscured smile he frantically conceals with the palm of his hand, betrayed only by the muted echo of his laughter. It's strangely odd and yet reassuring at the same time… as if two old acquaintances reunites and is now catching up with each other's lives after a long, untimely separation.
"So, now that you have hear from my side," he interrupts. "What about yours?"
Two old acquaintances… or perhaps, high school sweethearts? Yeah, that does ring sweeter on the ear... if we leave all the tragedies behind. "There isn't much to tell. Being left alone with no one to talk to is pretty boring, so I took the liberty to… peruse your laptop and see what is there to entertain myself."
Noticing the sudden change of elation to concern from Koizumi, I quickly change my approach. Don't look at me like that… you're making me feel guilty, here! "Don't worry, I understand your privacy so I'm not breaking into your sensitive files or documents. Otherwise, what kind of girlfriend will I be, Koizumi?"
He eases slightly into his chair and breathes a sigh of relief. Crisis averted!
"I am pleasantly surprised though," I continue. Now, for the moment of truth; is he really… or is he not? And I think I'm in the right to say that he is! "Most of your systems—files, documents, even games are all in Japanese! Are you fluent in the language?"
Koizumi's eyes sparkles and perks at the question as a cheeky grin gradually pushes his lips to a convex curve. His dark, brown eyes darts from side to side as he chuckles and nods approvingly. Is it a confirmation? It is, isn't it? No? Then what are you trying to say…!? The suspense is killing me!
"Hey, Monika…?"
I pop open the textbox once more. "Hmm…?"
He clears his throat…
「日本語分かりますか？」
And it's here! It's here! My confirmation! I was right all along! Well, not that there was anything to… wait, was there even any doubt in the first place? I think not! Okay, act calm and collected. You may be that 'perfect' girlfriend you often tout to be, but there is always room for improvement! You can't speak in the same language yet—that's fine, for now—but at least there's progress to where we stand in this odd but strangely lively relationship.
Now, Monika, don't screw this up!
"Oh wow, so you are a native!" I quickly interject with the textbox. I should have figured sooner considering his accent is as thick as corn soup. "I'm sorry, but I think it will be difficult for me to understand Japanese… ahaha…"
By the maker, I hope I didn't screw that up!
"Its fine," he chuckles, waving his hand dismissively. A flush of relief overcomes my senses. "You don't have to stress about it."
"But I do! Honey, I always wondered about the setting and premise of the game and how weird it is to have everyone speaking in English despite its supposed location to be in Japan; it's given me an identity crisis!"
That was a lie. Though it's not a total lie either; the thought does cross my mind once in a while, but it doesn't affect me as much to the point identity crisis is an issue. Call it a 'spur of the moment' to keep an image and a conversation going… a girl has secrets and tricks of her own, no?
"But here I am now," I continue with the pop of a textbox. "Realizing that I've been in the country all along… it's reassuring to know."
Koizumi chuckles and grins with a tease, "You're still lacking the 'language' category to qualify as one."
…
Oh? Is that a challenge I'm sensing? It would be rude not to take it now, would it?
"That time will come in time, I promise."
Once more, arrogance fuels his grin. "I'll look forward to it."
What a cheeky young man…
"Ahaha that is quite the pressure and expectation! I'll do my best."
But I don't dislike him one bit.
Koizumi may still be the typical 'otaku' I've assumed him to be, but he still has his charms—childish, yes… but it's there! In the time we delve ourselves further in small talks that gradually snowballed into conversations and light hearted debates, a flicker of light gently blooms in between the cracks of his initially stiff posterior to reveal a confident—yet kind—persona that echoes of the bespectacled young man from the photos. I didn't ask about his time in the pictures, believing that I could well be in over my head; even when I've been here for quite some time, in reality this is the first time we came face to face and 'talk' after all, albeit my heavy reliance on the textbox for communication purposes. But what makes me so sure, so at ease of my first impression of him is all due to how… focused and dedicated he is.
You see, during all this time, Koizumi has been working his hand tirelessly with a pen and a pile of papers to the side.
The dinner he brought—wrapped in tan-colored plastic bag—was set aside to his left, clearing a space just enough for his work to sit comfortably between us. Just as quickly as he cleared the desk, he moves just as swiftly to reach for a red pen situated outside my field of vision, just to my left. Then as if in a trance, Koizumi's finger dances and glides across the paper, tracing its contents from the top and work his way to the end, jumping from one sheet to the next, shifting through like a well-oiled machine.
And I can't help but feel a little… envious.
Even with this 'body' and my reach, I still find it nigh impossible for me to articulate the joints without it being too…'stiff', if you catch my drift. This body I took over, in a sense, was never meant to act as lively as how I intend to purpose them—like a proper human being. After all, these were but simple sprites no different than stickers you slap unto a wall or a window; animation was never its intent aside from simple simulations to mimic movements. Thus, a notion as simple as 'holding a pen' echoes the sentiment of 'rocket science'—and that's despite the aide of Koizumi's animation software. It's strange yet… surreal. My mind tells me that I've naturally held a pen more than once before and use them to its fullest and yet now, such actions is just too inexplicable to do! Imagine like having working limbs one day and finding out the next that they're…'missing', so to speak. Ugh… just thinking about it made me realize how long my laundry list has become. Getting a new 'body' sounds nice and all, but I really need to do a raincheck on that one or else my brain will shut down on itself. Who knows? Maybe I'll even lose all function and become just like the puppet that once appropriated this form? Ahahaha…!
…
I really should tone down the nihilism on my end…
"You certainly do have an admirable collection of entertainments here," I remark, following the flow of our conversation. "Natsuki would have a field day if she ever chanced upon this trove."
"Oh, is she here?"
I shake my head, "Sadly, no. It's… just Monika, I guess! Ahaha…!"
"I thought so…" Koizumi chuckles. "Never change, Monika… though if I may, I doubt Natsuki could stand half the things I have over there, as I'm sure you're aware."
"Well, that's… hard to deny… ahaha…"
No kidding… if there's anything to go by, I'll say she'd be as excited as she's equally perplexed to the number of adult-oriented entertainments. Welcome to the club, I guess.
"More so since the bulk of them are visual novels and audio books," he continues. "She seems to be the watcher and manga-type than a heavy-reader to me."
"What makes you say that?"
"Gut instinct between geeks, even if she's not real," he pauses for a second. "N-not as real as you, at least—no offense, Monika."
"Ahaha… none taken, don't mind."
I breathe a sigh of relief with ease on my mind; I'm sure he didn't mean any harm. "But… audio books, is it?"
"Interested?" Koizumi grins as his eyes glints with amusement behind those spectacles, breaking his focus just enough for him to set his red pen to the side. "The writing may not all be award-winning material, but the soul they carry is indisputable and often inspirational!"
I see… so despite the sense of camaraderie to Natsuki, Koizumi certainly leans heavier towards the text than the illustration. Interesting… and here I believed otherwise, considering how immaculately detailed and sharp his drawings are. Natsuki is certainly within his strike-zone, but it's quite a relief to know that we have a common ground to stand on.
But between Natsuki and me, I definitely have the high ground!
"So, are you interested? I highly recommend 'RE: Ze2o' or 'Tate no Yxusha'! Although 'Ham3Fura' or 'KonoXuba' are great too, if you're into comedy."
"That's very kind of you, Koizumi," I giggle softly. Quite hasty, isn't he? "But I find it really difficult to get into them when I don't even speak your language… at least, not yet! Consider me interested though! Ahahaha…!"
"I see… is that so?"
Koizumi briefly pauses and leans into his chair, resting his thumb close to his chin as if in deep reflection. His dark brown pupil darts from side to side as he mumbles under his breath about… something in his mother-tongue before he steals short glimpses over to me. Initially I was taken aback by his demeanor, fearing that perhaps I have said something out of line that may have been misunderstood—or at worse, angered him. But all that worry and concern instantly vanishes the second a smile and muffled chuckle that radiates comfort more than anything I've seen escapes him.
And with what I can only describe as a newfound determination, Koizumi locks his eyes unto mine—and for a second, I feel my heart jump and my cheeks warmed to its core; as if spring has turned and winter has passed.
"Monika, you mentioned how you want me to teach you Japanese or two, right?"
…when did I…?
…
Just like that, the magic is gone. Right… he's talking about that sad-excuse of a doppelganger. Of course he is. Calm down, just… play along. Play along! It's not his fault that he doesn't know it was a stand-in before; since I have things under control right now, I might as well take advantage of it. A win-win, If I say so myself!
I quietly nod in response.
"How would you like me to teach you?"
…!
I… I didn't expect that—well, I did—but I wasn't hoping he'll follow through. Perhaps it's within his timing, or his smile that is 'innocent to a fault', Koizumi seem to know when to press the right note to get me all giddy and excited. The joy I tried to contain—superficially—spills all over as I wholeheartedly accepts his offer with a nod; he, too, is quick to catch the message and quickly wraps his activity, organizing them into different files before drawing a blank piece of paper that he hastily fill with alphabets—or letters, perhaps—of the Japanese language.
What am I supposed to do? Disappoint him by turning him down?Of course not! On the contrary, I want this situation to develop! So I cross my arm and patiently observe as we comfortably slip into roles that we are familiar with—that of a teacher and a student.
"Now," he starts with a voice brimming with excitement and confidence. "Let's start with the basics; 'A, I, U, E, O'."
And wouldn't you know?
…
He has the making of a fine teacher.
The corridors bleed red from the afternoon sun as I walk among the shadows that phases in and out of existence at each step that I take. It is but a familiar scene—a high school—I've visit far more than my liking; a place where the air is frozen solid and the dead linger to walk amongst the living. An extension of the 'Sunset Classroom'. This is the hallway that serves as its only entrance and exit, distinguished by the many disembodied voices who whispers and wails, shadowing my movements alongside ghostly visages that fades as fast as it appears like fog to a windy day—'Shadows', as I came to dub them. Is it weird of me to find familiarity within this horror? Even as my skin crawls from the nape down, my heart drumming in terror, or as every strand of my hair stands frozen to a prick from the bombardment of both visual and auditory senses, is it strange to find everything to be… normal? You tell me. To my left, just about ten-fifteen steps ahead of me, is a sliding door with a numbered plaque fastened right above that reads '3-1'; oddly enough, I am drawn towards the room.
And as I take the few necessary steps and reach for the slit to open, the sudden weight of a hand rests on my shoulder to distract, accompanied by a sweet, cheerful voice that does not belong. It doesn't take forever to realize that this is but a dream.
"WhErE aRe YoU gOiNG, MoNIkA?"
A dream I've had one too many.
"I… nowhere in particular, Sayori," I reply hesitantly. "I was just about to… check-in to the club, ahaha…"
"WHaT FoR? YoU sAId iT YouRsELf, YoU 'dON't bElOnG HErE'!"
"…DoN'T bELoNg HerE…!"
"…DOn'T BeLOnG hERe…!"
The distortion of two separate voices, promptly identified to be Yuri and Natsuki's, catches me off-guard as their sudden manifestation to my left and right made no secret of their gnarled and perverted appearance. A sudden force is exerted on my shoulder and—within seconds—I am sent into a vertigo, tumbling and sliding across the slick yet stinging surface, stopped only by the wall at the end of the hallway with an audible 'crack'. The 'Shadows'—those ghostly visages—are frozen in place, white orbs intensely locked unto me—gaping—as the trio shambles and shoves their way back to me, echoing the same phrases over and over; 'don't deserve him, don't belong here'. A sharp burning surge stings my left shoulder, now apparently dislocated from the impact…
And I let out a scream. Be it from the agony or the terror, it doesn't matter.
Nothing matters…
"I-I didn't mean to…! I didn't have a choice…!"
"…DoN'T dESeRvE HIm…!" Yuri bellows, slogging closer with each drag. The 'Shadows' gradually congregate into a crowd, falling in obedience alongside the trio's footsteps. "…DoN't BeLoNG HeRe…!"
"It's not my fault! You would—everyone would do the same!"
The chant rises in volume and unison as they move to encircle, restricting my movements and tightening the cage they form with their physique. The sting on my left arm feels number by the minute as the door to reason closes on all sides with Yuri, Natsuki, and Sayori acting as its gatekeeper; the 'Shadows' obediently follow their whim to the 'T'. Here, once more, I am cornered without the means of escape…
"Please… I can explain… we can talk about this…"
"YOu wANt tO… tALk…?" Sayori mutters, pushing her way through the crowd. "YoU… WaNt To… TAlK…?"
Her azure eyes locks its gaze; cold and unfeeling. Chills run through my spine as she observes—curiously—from where she stands, intoxicated and indulged with the power that dances on her palm. I gradually sink further into the corner, gritting my teeth in contempt—trembling—knowing exactly what went wrong. Perhaps she can be reasoned with… this is Sayori, after all. Even with our positions altered, I still believe that the bubbly and caring vice-president I knew is in there.
"Y-yes… you knew how it felt… right? I didn't mean to… to act so cruel…"
Sayori pauses as Yuri and Natsuki made way to her side. The edge of her lips rises to a crescendo with a giggle. "Ehehe…"
"So… please, Sayori…? We can—…"
"EhEhe... AHahA—…AHahAHA…!"
It was naïve of me…
…
"SaY, MoNIka," she starts, twitching and moving erratically. "It hURtS, yOu kNOw…?"
Instinctively I try to inch further and keep our distance to no avail as she leans forward to a pose, both in mimicry and mockery. A distorted smile betrays her seemingly innocent demeanor—much less the aura she exudes. "WoULd YoU LIkE tO KnOW…?"
…
"…HoW iT FeEls tO DiE…?"
In an instant, the shadows descends unto me in a rapacious wave of violence and barbarism as the three spectates from afar; smiles of glee and detached gazes paints their expression. Within seconds, the many arms of the 'Shadows' overpowers the last vestige of resistance as I am pushed to the ground and pinned to the floor. I cry in terror—for mercy—as they ravage their claws with the sole purpose to rip and tear everything that is a part of me; first my clothes, then my undergarments, and before long my limbs and my flesh. The echo of my agony is music to those whom I have wronged; Yuri smiles in repugnant, Natsuki breaks into a laughter, and Sayori simply is overwhelmed with satisfaction that extends from ear to ear.
As I reach my hand out one last time, they simply turn their backs and walk away as the 'Shadows' have their way.
…
…And once again, I awake with a shiver and bathing in cold sweat. Just another nightmare…
Taking in copious amount of air, I breathe a sigh of relief as I curl into a ball in an upright position. Cautiously I dart my vision from left to right, wary of any signs of movements that may betray my sense of security within this digital prison. Funny… isn't it? The one place I desperately attempt to escape from is also the very thing that keeps placid and out of harm's way. From the 'window' by the table, I can see Koizumi still sleeping peacefully on the floor in one of those things called a futon—a light, airy, compact 'bed' that is common in Japan. The clock at the edge of the screen is currently three hours past midnight, about four and a half hour since the end of our studies. Koizumi insisted on taking an extra hour off of his sleeping schedule just to come up with a 'homework' for me to do and cover everything from vowels, to hiragana and katakana, and even down to its phonetics.
Oh, Koizumi…
I know you mean well—really, I do—but can't you see that what you're doing is pointless? I'm living here, in this reality, where assimilation of language can be done on a whim so long as 'Santa's' 'presents' provide the codes necessary. You could have simply ask him for a favor on his upcoming visit, so why would you waste all your effort and energy for me…? And why me…? I'm the villain of the story, so why are you doing all… this?
I don't deserve it… I don't deserve any of this…
…
Quietly, I pull open a tab and gaze at the number of tallies streaked on the page. For a second, I glance over at the dormant young man deep in his sleep; a sense of satisfaction and glee wafts from his silly, contemptuous expression. Must be having a good dream…
Well, what can I do? I guess I'll just do what I am supposed to… to play along. With it, I streak a slanted horizontal tally to the page, starting another day by burning the night oil until the break of dawn.
That's the tenth nightmare this month.
Author's Note
Welcome to ACT II
If you have read my previous work, you may quick to notice certain similarity or callback. That is true, as the timeline of this chapter coincides with Chapter 1 of 'Monika', albeit from a different perspective (hence, SIDE B). Stay tuned as not everything is what as it seems!
Now, translation notes:
Hiragana and Katakana:
This is the 'alphabet' of the Japanese language. History tells that hiragana was further simplification of kanji during its first introduction to Japan from China. Katakana is often applied to words foreign to Japan/words that came from the west. Naturally, we use Hiragna, Katakana, and Kanji in conjunction with one another.
Futon:
A simple, airy, compact bed which you spread on the floor to sleep on. Since space and compact living is a thing here, most apartments can't afford to have a bed due to space and thus, having a compact bed that can be stored when folded and drawn when needed is convenient. The more potent 'evolution' of this creation is the kotatsu, which marries the futon, a table, and a heater together. Perfect for winter.