The next day at school, Monika's mother's words were still echoing around inside her head. She scowled, drawn back once again to the sleepless night she had spent ruminating over the unpleasant interaction. Unconsciously, her grip tightening on the red, heart tipped pen in her hand until it began to bend under the pressure.
It had already been half a day of classes, each more overwhelming than the last. It was exhausting to balance the influx of new information presented in class with the continuous trickle of old information trying to bring her up to speed on her new life. Old life? Even thinking about it led her to distraction.
A gentle poke from the eraser side of a pencil brought her back to the present, and a teasing voice reached her ears. "Monika, hellooo? Earth to Monika."
"Oh. Sorry, Sayori, ahaha." She grinned at the other girl sheepishly before focusing back on the paper in front of her.
"It's no problem…" The coral haired girl sounded like she wanted to say more. Instead, she smiled. "I really appreciate you taking the time to study with me today. I know you must be super busy with the student council." That was another aspect of this iteration that had taken Monika by surprise. Not only was she president of the literature club, but she was also a member of the school's student council. While she wasn't entirely sure what her role was or how much it was really going to impact her day-to-day, it was still mildly concerning. How any one person could be expected to keep up with all these responsibilities, she couldn't even fathom. Yet here she was, up to her neck in extracurriculars and school work after just one day.
Disregarding that negative thought, Monika glanced fondly at her friend. "Ah they're a bunch of stiffs anyway; I'd much rather be hanging out with you." She flashed Sayori a bright smile that the shorter girl reciprocated, flushing slightly. "Besides," she continued admonishingly, "it's better we get you ahead this year." A few memories of midterm cramming flickered behind her eyes. This was how she'd met Sayori, the memories told her. The energetic girl had been struggling in her stem classes, and Monika–being one of the school's top students–had been volunteered as a tutor. Refusing the request hadn't really been an option, not that she would have.
"Right," Sayori chuckled sheepishly. For a moment she said nothing, eyeing the taller girl next to her. "Is it… is the student council stuff all that's bothering you? You seem… tense." She squinted at Monika as she spoke, as though that would help her see the thoughts turning over in the club president's mind.
The taller girl sighed, dropping her head onto her arms on the desk in an unusual display of vulnerability. "I'm fine…" her response, coupled with her defeated posture, wasn't the least bit convincing.
If there was one thing Monika had come to realize over the last day, it was that it had never been in her nature to be very forthcoming with personal information. That suited her just fine, all things considered. She couldn't very well explain her current predicament without seeming entirely out of her mind. Even so, everything was wearing on her and she was struggling to maintain her composure under the constant scrutiny of her classmates.
She tried not to think about the fact that the typical end-game event was eight months away. Eight whole months of all this pretending and schoolwork. Hopefully, she thought, there would be some sort of time-skip to get this all over with. The sooner the better. She wasn't sure how long she could keep this up.
Sayori pushed her calculus notes aside and let her head fall to the desk beside Monika's, pressing her ear against the cool surface so she could look at the green eyed girl, hands fidgeting under the desk. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Monika groaned, burying her face in her crossed arms. "I don't want to bother you with my problems." Her voice was muffled, but the shorter girl still managed to make out the words and moved to place a reassuring hand on the club president's back. For a moment, Monika stiffened at the contact, the strange sensation of being touched registering loudly over everything else in her busy mind.
Sayori didn't seem to notice the reaction, carrying on, "That's what friends are for though, right?" Despite the club president's reservations, she had to admit Sayori had a point. Monika supposed there were worse people she could be talking to about this. Like Natsuki, for example. The pink haired girl wouldn't have given her the time of day about something like this. She tried to push that sour thought from her mind, remembering that she hadn't even met Natsuki in this game yet.
Steeling herself, she muttered, "I just had a… disagreement… with my mother last night about the club." Sayori frowned, and she continued. "I think she'd prefer it if I rejoined the debate club." That was putting it lightly. She had all but told Monika to do just that. The taller girl rolled her eyes at the thought, though it left a bitter taste in her mouth.
"She might be right, I guess. After all, the club only has one other member besides me, so it's not like it's really working out anyway." She felt guilty even as the words left her mouth. She was supposed to be the club president, the one who always had it together, the one to make everyone feel welcome. She couldn't even do that, though. If she thought about it, she was the last person who could make anyone feel welcome after everything she'd done anyway, so this might actually be par for the course.
"Why would she rather you be in the debate club?" Sayori had ignored the negativity steeping her friend's words and focused in on the crux of the issue. That was one of the many talents the vice president possessed. She had always been good with people after all.
The logical part of Monika's brain latched on to the bait, and she raised her head, sighing again. "I guess because the debate club would look better on a college app than my st– than the Literature Club." The implication was clear, and Sayori could see the hurt shining in the emerald eyes of her club president.
The shorter girl hummed thoughtfully. "That's strange. I would have thought…" she trailed off. Monika looked at her, thoroughly confused.
Sayori continued, feigning consternation, "Wouldn't your grades be more of a determining factor in all that?" Again, she had a point, Monika acceded. "And besides that, you're also a member of the student council, right?" Again, she was correct. "And on top of all of that, you still manage to make time to tutor yours truly," she gestured to herself with a laugh. "See, I would think–and I could be totally off base here–that you deciding to start your own club would be seen as a good thing," the coral haired girl finished, looking at her friend pointedly.
Her gloom momentarily forgotten at Sayori's teasing assessment of the situation, Monika chucked, "Yeah, yeah, all right. You may be right, but I doubt Mother would see it that way." Her face pinched into a half frown. "It still would be nice to have a few more members though."
Unfazed by the disappointment in the taller girl's voice, Sayori grinned at her. "Just give it time. You never know who might show up!"
And with that, the crushing weight of Monika's anxiety returned. She forced a smile, but Sayori had already turned her attention back to her homework, unaware of her friend's reaction to her well intentioned positivity.
Who might show up? Who indeed. The Player? It wasn't as though a day without them meant they wouldn't show up. And then what? Had her deletion really changed anything? When faced with the presence of the Player, the only other real person like herself she'd ever known, would she be able to retain her already tenuous sanity? Vestiges of intense moments of desperation crept through her mind, lacing their way between her thoughts and painting everything in a deep shadow.
She felt different. She had made the conscious decision to delete the game, to delete herself. That had to count for something, right? Surely, if faced with the same situation again, she wouldn't act so… irrationally. She wasn't the same girl–starved for love and interaction–that she'd been back then. She'd had a lot of time to think, to grow. At least that's what she told herself. But, if that was true, why did she feel so terrified at the prospect of meeting the Player again. What if she was wrong?
Monika struggled to push those feelings aside for the rest of lunch as she and Sayori worked through the remaining problems on the club vice president's review sheet. They finished in short order, leaving them some time before their next class. Sayori busied herself with an English assignment that was due later that day. Monika suspected she had waited until the last minute partially because of her mental health, and partly because of her confidence in her ability to get the work done rapidly. She had suspected correctly because the essay, too, was completed before their study period ended.
The brown haired president had settled into her seat, retrieving one of her short stories from her bag. She put the pen to the paper and then withdrew it again, unable to focus. Her mind filled in the details of what the piece was about, a sci-fi story about four intergalactic operatives who had become stranded on an alien planet. Had she written this? Her mind told her that she, or at least the version of her that was supposed to inhabit this world, had written it, but the concept was still so foreign to her. Who was she?
A voice speaking directly next to her ear from over her shoulder snapped her from her ruminating thoughts. "New story?" She turned her head, ending up nearly nose to nose with a grinning Sayori who had already gathered her things. The shorter girl stood up straight again and gestured with her head towards the door. "The bell rang, but I don't think you noticed, ehehe."
Monika glanced at the clock, only realizing then how much time had passed. "Ahaha, I guess I'm just really out of it today. Thanks, Sayori." She smiled at the other girl who looked thoughtful for a moment before heading in the opposite direction of the club president.
"I gotta get to class, but I'll see you at the club today! Maybe I can help you with that writer's block." She winked and waved her fingertips over her shoulder as she went. Monika stared after her in mild astonishment before gathering her belongings with the intention of heading off in the direction of her next lecture.
As she strode evenly towards the exit of the library, a sign hanging from the ceiling caught her eye. There, above a row of bookshelves containing dusty, heavy looking volumes, were the words "World History." Monika faltered, tripping over her own feet and stumbling a couple steps with her heart in her throat. Her face burned as she looked around quickly, hoping no one had witnessed her surprising lack of coordination.
She knew she should be on her way to her next class. At this rate she was going to be late, but she couldn't make her feet move towards the door. Her eyes remained glued to the sign. It was unlikely that she would find the answers she was looking for within the confines of those books. Logically, they were just game assets. Who was to say whether they even had pages. They might just be a solid object…
Unbidden, her body moved towards the shelves as though drawn by some magnetic force. Just as her fingertips brushed the spine of one of the nearest books taking a thin layer of dust with it. The golden embossed lettering on the blue, lacquered blue backstrip read: After the Information Age: How AI Shaped the World. Artificial Intelligence. Now that was a term she could have gone another lifetime without thinking about again. She reached out again, as though in a trance, intending to pull the book from the shelf when the blare of the bell signaling the next class period had begun made her jerk her hand away as if she'd been burned. She stood there for a moment, hand clutched to her now heaving chest.
A cacophony of emotions played across her face before it settled into a wounded expression. She was real. She was. She had to be. She gritted her teeth and spun on her heel. She needed to get to class, and now she was definitely late. Maybe she would come back later, she thought. Maybe? Who was she kidding? She would be back as soon as the club meeting was over.