In the couple weeks following the reset, Monika found herself falling into a routine. Guided by her internal navigator–with whom she was begrudgingly coexisting–she was managing to keep her head above water in her classes as well as several of her social relationships. It had taken every bit of smooth talking she used to pride herself on to navigate the swaths of people approaching her and ask why she was suddenly being so distant, whether they had done something to upset her.
The girls from her first period with whom she had apparently shared several classes over the years–even going so far as to have been on the track team with them in middle school–had given her space initially before confronting her about her strange behavior.
Now that was an experience Monika hoped never to repeat. She'd felt as though her foot would never leave her mouth after that one. Fudging her way through a conversation when she was retroactively learning who those girls were was a sort of mental gymnastics that even she did not quite possess.
Regardless of the near insurmountable number of names and faces she had to shove into her already crowded brain those first few days, it was nothing compared to her next revelation that came the following week.
Internally, Monika was screaming. She was going insane. Scratch that. She already was insane–this was just the icing on the cake.
Student Council President. Student Council President? Her?!
Monika slumped heavily into her desk for her first class, thankful to whatever cursed higher power was pulling the strings that she was the first to arrive. Already exhausted, she dropped her head into her hands, pushing her bangs up off of her face for a moment before puffing out a breath and righting herself once more. A few loose strands of hair caught up in her mouth and she cringed at the sensation. That was one of many things that had her considering the practicality of her go-to hairstyle.
The fluorescent lights above her seat in the front row buzzed at an irritating pitch, denoting that they were reaching the end of their lifespan. Outside, she could just barely make out the rustling of the trees as their branches whipped around in the strong autumn wind. There were just so many new sounds and sensations that it was all more than a little overwhelming. At least that hadn't happened back when her world was less detailed, she thought dryly. One of many things that had been easier, she supposed. That line of thinking brought her back to the crushing pressure that had been so unceremoniously dumped on her shoulders.
She'd been at school for mere minutes, having walked in the front door just as the sun began to crest the horizon, when her mind had helpfully filled in a few more details of her increasingly hectic and stressful life. So on top of tutoring, classes and her duties as the President of the Literature Club, she was also Student Council President. Of, like, the whole school? Not for the first time that morning, Monika had the thought that this was all a bit much. Sure, in the game she was supposed to be some super popular, straight-A student, but this? This was overdoing it, surely.
Her past memories–or whatever they were–served her, fortunately, and she was slowly fitting together the pieces of her responsibilities. It was Thursday, which meant the Council would be meeting during free period to discuss upcoming events, assemblies, and announcements for the school. She could manage that, she supposed. Her brain helpfully tried to catastrophize that she would likely be running said meeting with absolutely no knowledge of what should have been planned, but she'd made it this far. Surely it would go at least as well as everything else.
But something else had been bothering her.
A flash of purple hair flitted in her mind and she sighed. Yuri. The tall bookworm was nowhere to be found. She'd spent more than a few lunchtimes when she wasn't helping Sayori with her studies wandering the halls, peeking her head into vacant classrooms and even checking a few bathrooms, but the violet eyed girl had still managed to elude her.
If that had even been her to begin with, and that was after considering the very distinct, non-zero possibility that it had been a hallucination. A convincing one, but a hallucination nonetheless. The wild imaginings of an over-tired mind, perhaps.
A small, anxious part of her worried that Yuri's character file hadn't been restored after all. As much as she didn't want to admit it, it would be nice having the other club members around again. They were so unique, and if the Sayori in this game had so much more detail and nuance than she remembered–so much so that she almost seemed real –what, then, of the others? What would the tall bookish girl be like if her two-dimensional timid nature were truly fleshed out into a fully realized being?
Monika had to stop her wanderings before they got that far, admonishing herself. That wasn't the case, and she had to keep reminding herself of that each day. It would be so easy to be fooled, to trust in what she was seeing, but that would only lead to heartbreak in the long run. She could wake up the next morning to the bland interior of the unfinished club room, her other club mates drooling over themselves in an attempt to garner the attention of the Player, and her once again delegated to be the narrator–a prop. She shuddered at the thought.
Even so, deep down she knew that she wished Yuri would appear somewhere, back to her normal, reserved yet thoughtful self. She missed the girl's insight and calm analysis of situations. She had the most interesting mind of all the girls, and she was someone Monika found herself relating to more often than not. Her counsel would have been a boon in her current predicament, assuming she'd had enough knowledge to be able to assess the problem. If there was anyone who could unravel the very fabric of the universe, it would have been her.
Then again, if Yuri had that kind of knowledge there was a high likelihood that she would endeavor to keep Monika from breathing ever again. Another shudder.
The sound of voices nearing the door shook Monika like a rapidly approaching siren, and she quickly ensured that her confident, pristine facade was in place before the first student entered. She had an image to maintain, after all.
Her morning classes were largely uneventful, thankfully. She'd even started feeling as though she had caught up on the material for the most part. As her final period before lunch came to a close, she found herself watching the clock–waiting for it to count down to the bell like a sprinter at the starting line. She was so focused that when the bell did sound, she jolted in her seat drawing the eye of the student sitting next to her.
He arched an amused brow at her. "Jumpy, aren't we?" For some reason, his tone was not as lighthearted as his words, and Monika felt herself bristling.
Despite her discomfort, she smiled politely. "Oh, you know how it is," she intoned noncommittally.
Her initial gut feeling soon proved to be an omen of things to come as his face spread into a wicked grin over perfectly white teeth. "No, no I don't think I do. Why don't you enlighten me, Miss President."
What was this guy's deal? Her sparkling green eyes took in the boy's posture and cocksure smile and made a snap judgment–this boy was bad news. "Sorry," she excused herself, getting up to leave, "-but I have other matters to attend to." As she reached for her bag, she was surprised when it was swiftly hefted out of her hand.
"Allow me. I'll walk with you."
Monika frowned. "That's alright, I wouldn't want to hold you up."
His smile widened as he easily dodged her thinly-veiled hostility. "I insist," he said smoothly, slinging her bag over his shoulder along with his own. He was of a tall and muscular build, though not much more than many of the others in their grade. His tawny hair was styled into spiked fringe that stopped halfway down to his green eyes. Interestingly enough, they looked none too dissimilar to her own, but that was where their similarities would end.
The young man exuded a confidence to which her own paled in comparison. It was born of privilege and class, an untapped pool of perceived potential and talent simply undiscovered as of yet. It far outmatched her own sham of an exterior. It was as if the boy held no internal flaws to be self-conscious of, though it may have simply been that he did not have the capacity to acknowledge them–or, more likely, that he just didn't want to.
"So-" he began as they stepped out into the hallway. His voice carried easily over the clamor of voices and locker doors slamming, "-word on the street is that our dear President has been acting rather strangely as of late. I have to say, I didn't believe the rumors at first, but now I might be a convert."
Monika shrugged, falling into step with him despite his purposefully longer stride and noting that they were not, in fact, heading in the direction that she had planned. Irritation bubbled just under the surface of her skin. "Is that really so interesting? It's not as though I'm required to maintain some sort of persona." That was exactly how it felt, however, and the boy walking beside her seemed to know it.
"Surely not, but I still thought I should do my due diligence–check in as your second-in-command." And there it was–the final piece that clicked into place allowing a new flood of information to erupt from her subconscious. She tried to stifle the sharp inhale as a piercing pain lanced through her skull, and thankfully the young man took no notice.
Through gritted teeth, she forced out, "Well I thank you for your concern, sincere as I'm sure it is, but even if something were going on, I have other ears that I would sooner bend than yours." It was a stark shift in tone, and she cursed it even as he turned a curious gaze on her.
He didn't look at her long, but the effect lingered. She could feel the predaceous undertone to his next words. "Oh, like that Sayori girl? Isn't that a bit beneath you?"
The comment stopped her in her tracks. "You keep her name out of your mouth."
Like a shark smelling blood, he rounded on her. "My dear Monika, if I didn't know any better I would say I struck a nerve. Now whatever could have elicited such a cold response, and so suddenly at that? Don't tell me that she's who you were actually talking about."
Monika managed to keep the disgust and fury off of her face, but just barely. She reached for her bag and tugged the free strap. The boy lurched awkwardly under the change, struggling to find his equilibrium for a moment as the bag slid from his shoulder. "Toma, drop the act. You care about as much for me as you do gum stuck to your overpriced shoes." The casual dig made his smile falter for a moment. "I don't know what you're after, but you aren't going to get it. I've humored you for much longer than necessary. If you will excuse me." There was a finality to her words this time that brokered no argument.
As she turned to weave through the throng of students behind him, he called after her. "I'd be careful on that high horse of yours, Monika, it would be a shame to take someone down with you if you fell." A few students glanced over at the odd exchange, several pairs of eyes following the brown haired girl as she moved past them.
Note to self, she thought darkly, watch your back around Toma Davenport.