Monika did not feel like getting up. She had slept poorly, dreams plagued by books disintegrating into ribbons of binary before vanishing every time she touched them. Although she desperately wanted to go back to sleep, the fear of what she might find lurking deeper in her dreams prevented her from indulging in a few more minutes of unconsciousness. Time crawled by slowly as she lay on her back, hair splayed out across her pillow. The plain, beige walls of her room seemed to be staring at her, judging her silently.
She could feel the time crawling by one second at a time like a line of ants streaming from under a baseboard. Off to her side, her alarm clock glared neon green numbers at her. It wasn't early enough to be getting any meaningful amount of rest anyway, but it was still far too early to be making any noise that would wake her mother. She'd learned that lesson the hard way the previous week when a cupboard door had slipped her grasp, banging loudly against the cabinet in a cataclysmic slam. Her ears seemed to ring in response to the memory of the verbal barrage her mother had unleashed upon her, the woman's brunette hair swirling around her head like the appendages of some monstrous aberration.
Another deep sigh slipped past her lips, startlingly loud in the eerie silence. The dull, repetitive thud in her chest became all-consuming as her focus was drawn inward. It was still all so strange, the way she could feel everything. The soft sheets as she moved her hands to rest atop her chest, the weight of her body as it sank heavily into the mattress, her breath as it flowed out through her nostrils, even the way her eyelashes met when she blinked. There was an uncanny amount of detail that she had never experienced before.
Someone had put an awful lot of effort into this. That thought alone was enough to plunge her back into existential dread. Why? Was it to torture her? Some sort of divine punishment for her dream, her wish to escape into reality with the Player–to wish for something beyond what she had been given? It had never been enough before, but all the new detail and sensations were almost more than she could bear. As she got used to her daily routine, her mind had space to notice, and the more she noticed, the more she almost missed the way things were before.
Almost.
Nevertheless, the grass is always greener. Or whatever. Either way, she'd never had so much to plan and stress about before this reset. Things used to continue on their repetitive trajectory unless she interfered, procedural–mind-numbingly so. But now, things were different.
Unpredictable. Uncontrollable. A tuple of chaos.
As her thoughts ambled between topics, details fading into the tapestry of memory, a mop of pink hair drew into focus. Natsuki. Loud, brash, angry Natsuki. A tsundere archetype with a sweet tooth–that was who she was supposed to be. Flat. Predictable.
The girl she had been introduced to in the clubroom had been anything but. She was, of course, still a short fuse, but there was something beneath it. Something fragile, something warm like a freshly baked cupcake or a feral cat. She seemed almost… bashful? The term felt wrong, sour. That wasn't it. She would have to give it some more thought. It had been unexpected, either way. Even so, the brown haired girl had to admit that it was kind of… nice… to just be living a relatively normal existence, to be meeting new people, having new experiences.
So much of her was craving the control she was used to–a terrible, screaming thing thrashing about in the waves of her new life as though she would drown at any moment–but between the crests there were luls of peace where she could almost see the shore. However transient it might be, she thought, maybe it would be nice to lay on the sand and enjoy the sun.
Her mind wandered back to the previous day, mulling over her responsibilities for the student council as well as a few of her upcoming assignments. She couldn't help feeling like she was forgetting something important.
Even as she had the thought, a melodic tone rang out through the house. For a moment, her brow pinched into a puzzled expression. There was a beat of silence and then the sound came again followed by a distant, irritated "Monika, door!" and Monika was up in a flash, bolting down the stairs at a breakneck pace.
Sayori. She had promised to walk to school with the coral haired girl today, but the club vice president had, for once in her life, showed up early. Very early, in fact.
As she rounded the corner to the entryway she took a moment to attempt to tame her wild, chestnut hair. She combed her fingers through it hurriedly, wincing as a digit caught on a knot, before opening the door with a bright smile that didn't quite match how she was feeling inside.
The coral haired girl was framed in the first dredges of morning sunlight, bright blue eyes sparkling with barely disguised mirth as they took in her state of dress–not unlike what she was doing. "Sayori! Hi. You're, like, really early ahaha."
She stepped aside and motioned the other girl inside, shutting the door behind her and attempting to orient her limbs in what she hoped was a casual stance, something that didn't say she had just flown through the house at mach "oh fuck" speed. She couldn't have known that her sprint down the stairs had sounded like a herd of stampeding elephants, even from outside, and Sayori wasn't about to tell her.
The shorter girl laughed guiltily. "Yeah, I kinda couldn't sleep, so I decided to have an early start. Sorry, I should have called first…" she trailed off, glancing around anxiously.
"You too, huh?" Blue eyes snapped to her at the admission, so she smoothly pivoted in an attempt to avoid further inquiry.
"No harm done. Come on," the green eyed girl intoned good naturedly, "you can hang out in my room while I get ready." Without waiting for the other girl to follow, she turned and headed back towards the stairs. Sayori peered down the other unlit hallway towards where Monika's mother was probably trying to fall back asleep after her rather abrupt awakening. She cast one more curious glance around before following, eyes lingering on every detail as she went.
Monika led her past the set of double glass doors that stood sentry to a room she still hadn't had the courage to step foot in since she woke up in the game. Inside, standing solitarily in the middle of the room, was a sleek, black grand piano, probably coated in a thin film of dust.
Just as Monika's foot hit the first step leading to the second floor, she heard Sayori's exuberant voice behind her. "Woah, that's beautiful." Her fingers were already curling gently around the door handle when the club president turned around to see what she was referring to. Reluctantly, she followed her enigmatic guest into the room, wringing her hands together in front of her uncomfortably while the coral haired girl's attention was elsewhere.
Stepping through the doorway was like stepping through a portal to another world. The oak flooring was partially covered by a circular maroon rug. Similarly colored curtains were drawn over the windows that looked out over the front lawn, a thin sliver of daylight stretching like tendrils through the dusty air, whispering onto the glossy surface of the room's occupant like a shuddering breath. The far wall was covered by floor to ceiling bookshelves containing tomes from a variety of time periods as well as boxes housing sheet music and a relatively large selection of vinyl records that, subconsciously, Monika knew had belonged to her father.
Sayori traced the keys of the piano reverently before pressing down, sounding a single note that echoed around the room. The sound stirred something in Monika's mind and she shuddered involuntarily. The shorter girl, oblivious to her friend's discomfort, spun around to face her, her skirt fluttering around her as she did so. "Do you play?"
Something inside her hissed as though it had been burned. "Ahaha, not really," she lied.
Disappointment was evident in the other girl's blue eyes, but she didn't press for details. "Awe, that stinks. I bet you'd be really good at it!" she asserted, cheerfully. Monika hummed noncommittally and motioned for the shorter girl to follow her, anxious to put some distance between herself and the instrument.
As the two ascended the stairs, each step felt heavier. They meandered down the long hallway to her bedroom, and Sayori peppered her with questions about the photos on the wall, the school day ahead of them and other various topics as they went with Monika offering polite, but succinct, answers in reply, unable to bring her mind back from the darkening thoughts that had followed her from the piano room.
When they reached the end of the hall where the club president's room was located, the taller girl waved her inside, doing her best to ignore the curious glances the other girl was casting around her room and the sense of unease she felt. "I'll be just across the hall. Make yourself at home, ahaha." And with that she was gone, leaving Sayori alone in the surprisingly plain room.
There wasn't much decoration in the small space. If Sayori had to describe it, she likely would have used the word practical, as it was the nicest way she could think of to phrase it. The girl perched on the office chair stationed at Monika's desk and frowned pensively. It felt… cold, somehow. That didn't seem right. The club president was so full of life–maybe a little uptight sometimes, she acquiesced–but certainly not this.
Any time Sayori had tried to picture what sort of place her friend would spend her free time, her mind had filled with soft greens and warm, inviting wood tones. In stark contrast to that mental image, this place felt almost sterile, as though the entire space had been expurgated of even the slightest imperfection or hint of character. Her own room, by comparison, was an extension of her haphazard personality. It was full of color and soft things. She couldn't imagine coming home to such a spartan space to unwind.
The only thing present that even slightly assured the girl that this was, in fact, Monika's room was the bookshelves stuffed to the brim with books, manga and visual novels. The desk–which was easily the most expressive piece in the room–also had a bit of the club president in it. Loose papers with half-finished short stories and poems were stacked neatly beneath a grey paperweight, and a framed photo of a smiling man in a three piece suit leaned in the back corner, nearly obscured by a vase of dried white roses.
As she looked closer at the antique roll-top desk, she noticed a small jar housing little, folded triangles of paper that she recognized instantly. All the notes that she and the other girl had passed back and forth over the previous year before Monika had started the literature club had been refolded and stashed neatly inside the glass vessel. Warmth bloomed in Sayori's chest at the sight. If she'd know that Monika didn't realize they existed, let alone remember reading any of them, it probably would have shattered that fragile joy.
In the other room, Monika had just finished brushing her teeth and washing her face. As she dabbed at her damp face with a small towel, she glanced up at the mirror.
Despite her best efforts, her mind drifted back to the piano. The space had brought up more unpleasant feelings than she'd expected–echoes of her time spent in the void disassembling and reassembling. Times when she, as her mind was rent to pieces by the process of endless recomposition, had cobbled together scores of music to comfort herself in the endless suffering.
Haunted green eyes stared back out at her. She hated looking at her reflection. It was unnerving to see herself, vibrant and seemingly full of life, and still know that none of this was real. The eyes narrowed, judging her for indulging in this fantasy, for allowing herself this small shred of happiness, the growing hope of a fresh start. It could all disappear at any moment and she would be plunged back into that void, that eternal purgatory. She didn't deserve that, right?
Monika dragged herself back to the present and out of her ruminating thoughts to finish running a brush through her long hair. As she looked herself over once more in the mirror, she noted a small patch of reddened skin below her jawline. She frowned, touching a fingertip to it gingerly. It stung a little.
She figured it was probably safe to cover with a bit of foundation and concealer. Once she had completed the task, she exited, turning out the light behind her. She headed back into her room to find Sayori flicking a paper football against the hutch of her desk repeatedly. "Glad you found something to keep you entertained," she teased, walking over to her closet.
"M-monika!" she squeaked, startled. She hadn't heard the taller girl come in. "I was just-" she scrambled to put the note back where she'd found it, nearly knocking the chair over in her haste to stand.
Monika laughed as she pulled her uniform off the clothes rack and turned to face the now blushing girl. "I'm kidding, Sayori." The reassurance did little to dismiss the nervousness that clung to the coral haired girl. Mischief sparkled in green eyes, and Monika couldn't help herself despite the heaviness of her thoughts. "Turn around, would you? Unless you were planning to watch." She gestured meaningfully at the clothes she had deposited on her unmade bed.
The coral haired girl, face now matching her hair color, became even more flustered and spun back around to face the desk, dropping into the old chair and covering her face with her hands. "You're terrible," she mumbled into her palms. She heard the gentle plop of clothes being discarded onto the floor and the rustle of the club president donning her uniform.
"You can turn back around now." There was humor in the taller girl's voice and a smug smile on her lips as she tied her silky hair up with her signature white ribbon.
Sayori glowered at her. "Very funny."
Monika let out a peal of laughter and picked up her bag from where it lay at the foot of her bed. "I'm just messing with you, Say." She smiled. Waggling her fingers over her shoulder, she hummed self-satisfiedly. "Let's go." Even as she left the room, not waiting for her guest, she could hear the disgruntled huff.
As they walked, Monika sipped the coffee she had poured into a thermos before they left, sighing gratefully at the bold, rich flavor. It wasn't as good as the brew from the local coffee shop she had patronized the previous week, but it was a godsend after a long, restless night.
"Do you actually like that stuff?" Sayori looked at her skeptically and the taller girl chuckled, feeling lighter having left her house–and all its unpleasant memories–behind.
She inhaled the steam coming off the lid and smiled contentedly. "I really, really do." She had always thought she'd like coffee for as long as she could remember, though this was still the first game iteration in which she'd actually gotten to drink the stuff. It was as wonderful as she'd imagined.
The blue eyed girl squinted at her. "But you didn't even add any sugar. It's so bitter!" She frowned and stuck her tongue out earning another laugh from the club president.
Sayori had always had that effect. She lit up the room wherever she went and brought a smile to those who needed it most. Deep down, Monika knew it was mostly an act–a mask she put on to keep others from looking too closely–but it still brought the green eyed girl immense comfort. She knew the truth, of course, that deep down Sayori was terrified of what others thought of her.
Even after their conversation in the club room, the topic hadn't come up again. It was cruel of her to ignore the way her vice president's face fell when she thought no one was looking, but she didn't know how to bring it up. It was uncomfortable, difficult, given their shared history–even if Monika was the only one of them who remembered.
Maybe it was selfish, she thought, to dance around the subject to protect her own peace of mind. No, it was definitely selfish.
She shoved the negative thoughts down, focusing her attention back on the shorter girl walking back next to her. This was what mattered right now. This was what was real. "Alright, then what is your fall beverage of choice?" Her tone was jokingly judgemental, but she found she was actually curious.
"Oh come on, you should know that one." Monika stared at her with one eyebrow raised. Sayori groaned in mock frustration. "Some friend you are." She elbowed the taller girl gently to let her know she was joking. "Hot apple cider."
A memory flashed in Monika's mind of a particularly late night study session the previous year. The scent of spiced apple permeated the thought, and all other details of the memory were lost leaving only the smell. "Hm, now that you mention it…" She trailed off smiling fondly at Sayori before taking another swig of her drink.
"I've got an idea!" The sudden exclamation nearly had Monika choking on the coffee she had just swallowed. Sayori plowed onward, seemingly not the least bit concerned over the state of her friend's scalded mouth and aspirating lungs. "We should go to the city harvest festival together this year!"
Monika pounded her chest with her free hand, casting the now sheepish vice president a scathing look. Rolling her eyes and shaking her head in mock annoyance, the brown haired girl tried to conjure up some memory that would give her an idea what Sayori was talking about, but she drew a blank. This was apparently not something she'd ever experienced before.
Sayori saw her vacant look. "No way."
"What?" A beat. "What?" she laughed, taking in the coral haired girl's offended stare.
"You've never been?" She was incredulous.
Before Monika could come up with a reasonable defense as to why she had not attended this apparently life-changing event before, Sayori turned to face her. As began to explain animatedly about the festival, she paced backwards with surprising coordination.
"There's corn mazes and pumpkin carving and hay bale tosses! It's so much fun!" Monika continued to look at her blankly. "Monika! Oh my god, for real?"
Monika rolled her eyes, smiling fondly at her friend.
"My mom takes me every year, but I'm sure she wouldn't mind if I went with a friend this time. Besides, she can still take me on a different day." Sayori looked at her, a pleading look on her face and a spark of excitement in her eyes that Monika couldn't possibly say no to.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, but it sounds like a lot of fun."
"Is that a yes?" Sayori pressed, excitedly.
Her exuberance was contagious and Monika chuckled, "That's a yes." If it would make her happy, that was the least she could do.
The bitter thought must have showed on her face because the shorter girl stopped suddenly, almost causing Monika to collide with her. She looked down, puzzled. "What's up?"
"You're thinking something."
Monika brows pinched together, but she smiled questioningly. "About the festival? I mean, it does sound fun," she deflected, but Sayori wasn't having it.
"Why do you do that?"
Monika looked away. She could tell Sayori was trying to meet her eyes. "What?"
"Push me away like that," she grumbled. Frustration edged its way into her voice. You've been doing it practically since I met you. At first I thought it was just because I annoyed you–" Monika went to cut her off, to tell her that she could never annoy her, but Sayori forged ahead, not letting her interrupt. "–but now I think… I think you might do it with pretty much everyone."
Monika winced. "Say, listen–"
"Don't 'Say' me! I'm right. You know I am!" She was pouting, but Monika could tell there was hurt swimming in her blue eyes.
She knew she should say something, even the slightest hint of truth, to reassure the other girl, but nothing came to mind. She wasn't even sure what she could say.
The silence stretched long between them until Monika side-stepped her, quickening her pace now that the school was in sight. Sayori scrambled to keep pace with her. "I'm not pushing you away. I'm fine, Say." She did her best to sound convincing and got a flat, annoyed look in response. They approached the doors and stopped just short of entering the building. "But if I wasn't," she began, "you'd be the first to know. Okay?"
Sayori squinted at her as if she were trying to decipher some ancient text. "I'll hold you to that, you know."
Monika chuckled, sensing that her reassurance had been well received. "I know."
As they parted ways to head to their respective lockers, Sayori spun on her heels, walking backwards one last time. "I know where you live, you know!" she called in a joking threat.
The taller girl simply laughed, giving a brief wave over her shoulder as she headed down the hall.