"Sooooo?" Sayori was leaning in conspiratorially. Monika's finger absently drew a line back and forth on the left side of her neck as she studied the page in front of her, lost in thought. "So what was she like?" That got her attention.
"The transfer?" She asked evasively. From the circulation desk, Lyll's eyes were boring a hole into the back of her skull. A part of her wished they could have picked somewhere else to do their studying.
Sayori rolled her eyes dramatically. "Yes, the transfer! Who else?"
Sensing that she wasn't likely to let it go any time soon, Monika relented, steepling her hands on the desk in front of her. "She was…" She searched for words that could accurately describe the encounter, but was coming up with nothing. It wasn't that there wasn't anything to say, far to the contrary. There was so much that she was still trying to sort through herself. Tall? Mesmerizing? Endlessly intelligent? Perceptive, dangerously so. Perhaps one of the single most intriguing people she had ever met in this roughshod time-loop she called a life? "-nice," she finished dully.
"Nice?" Sayori parroted back, arcing her eyebrows disbelievingly.
Monika had the decency to look embarrassed. "I mean, yeah. We, uh, we didn't really spend that much time together. I gave her the tour, walked her schedule with her and that was that."
Sayori groaned, leaning back dramatically in her chair. "You're hopeless! You had hours with the mythical transfer student and all you can tell me is that she's nice?"
That was an exaggeration. They both knew it. It had been just shy of two hours, but Sayori was acting like they'd spent the whole day together. "Well what do you want to know?" Monika retorted defensively.
Sayori ignored her tone, instead leaning forward with one finger on her lips, making a show of thinking deeply. Then, rapid fire she rattled off "Where did she come from? What are her hobbies? Does she have a favorite food? What about her favorite color? What did she look like? Does she want to join the literature club?" She ticked down a finger for each question before beaming at her tutor.
It was Monika's turn to roll her eyes. " She came from overseas. Somewhere north, and she has an accent." She considered the other questions. It probably wouldn't hurt anything to pull a bit on her previous knowledge, right? "She likes to read. Her favorite food is pirozhki, and she loves tea–green especially. She's super tall, has gorgeous purple hair…" Monika trailed off, only then noticing the open mouth stare she was getting from the coral haired girl next to her.
"Oh, she's just 'nice' is she?" There was a glint in Sayori's eyes that made her shiver.
"Y-yes?"
Sayori merely hummed in response. It felt like there was something she was hinting at, but whatever it was couldn't have been less obvious to the green eyed girl. Sensing the gibe had gone over Monika's head, Sayori continued. "Well if she likes to read then I hope you invited her to the club. I told you that Natsuki was going to come back this afternoon, right? If the new girl shows up then we'll have enough members to make it official!"
She had a point. They were still one member shy of the required four. Monika wasn't sure how she felt about the idea of them all being together again. A part of her worried that would be the catalyst to bring everything crumbling down. Yuri seemed to have that effect on her life.
No, she reprimanded, that wasn't fair to put on her. Her problems were frequently of her own doing. Yuri, and the others, just happened to be bystanders to her frequent train wrecks. "R-right. Uhm, well, I did invite her. No guarantees though."
Sayori smirked at her. "I have faith in our club president. You're very persuasive when you want to be."
Monika swallowed thickly over the knot in her throat as the words rattled around in her head. She didn't know the half of it.
As the lunch hour came to an end, a frustrated Sayori departed with a tired wave. "You'll get it in no time, Say," Monika intoned encouragingly. The positivity didn't seem to make much of a difference, but she did get a small smile in return. Sayori had been struggling with the most recent unit, more than she had thus far in all their sessions together. Monika couldn't help but feel responsible. Her mind was elsewhere, and–no matter how many times she tried to bring it back–it felt like she was only able to give a passing effort.
She gathered her things, tapping the small stack of pages on the table's surface to straighten them before sliding them into the verdant folder that contained her own calc notes.
"Hey, Monika?" She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden presence behind her. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." Lyll had crossed the room with a feline noiselessness.
Monika steadied her rapidly beating heart with a deep inhale, holding it in her lungs for a moment before responding. "Oh, no it's no problem. I was just distracted. What can I do for you?" she asked with a forced, but deceptively bright smile.
They didn't waste any time, glancing quickly at the clock. "Listen, about that book."
Her smile faltered slightly. "What about it?"
They seemed uncomfortable, but they pressed on anyway. "A friend of mine said there might be a copy at the main circulation in the city. I don't know how often you get out that way or…"
The words sent a wave of static through her head. "A friend of yours?" It wasn't adding up, and her brow furrowed. Why would they have spent time digging into it? "And what do you mean there's a copy? You said yourself that nothing was coming up on the search."
They seemed to be getting more anxious the longer they spent talking, offloading their weight from one foot to the other. "Yeah, I know. I just… listen, whatever you decide is your choice. Just… I dunno. Think about it." The bell rang in that moment, and Lyll turned on their heel to leave, but then hesitated. "Also, maybe just… be careful who you mention this to?"
She stepped after them a few paces, her face dropping its mask of pleasantries and twisting into a deep frown. "What do you mean?" They didn't stop, gathering their things and looking around warily as if they weren't the only two left in the library. She reached out, smoothly latching onto the taller student's wrist, forcing them to look at her. "What do you know?"
They adeptly slipped from her grasp, putting their hands up in a placating gesture. "I'm sorry, that's all I can say." They were turning to leave once more, making it clear that there wouldn't be further conversation on the subject, at least not in that moment. As an afterthought, they glanced at her once more. "Please just forget that I was the one who told you. I'm trying to help you, just… be careful." And they were gone, leaving Monika with her head spinning and a clock that had her dangerously close to being late. Again.
She managed to make it to her next class on time by the skin of her teeth, sliding into her desk just as the bell sounded at the start of the period. Thankfully, no one she knew particularly well was in this class, and she couldn't have been more grateful. Her mind oscillated between confusion, fear and white hot anger for the entire lecture. None of the teacher's words reached her brain through the torrent of thoughts, each thread weaving back over itself until she was left with a jumbled mess, and she was left ruminating on the conversation well into her next class. When PE came around, she was wound tighter than an axial flux generator coil.
She changed into her gym uniform, roughly stuffing her uniform into her bag before sighing, retrieving it and folding it properly. That gave her only a slight respite to try to calm her raw nerves before she was met with the absolute last person she wanted to come across that afternoon.
Toma leaned casually against the wall in the alcove that led to the locker rooms, accompanied by the same boy she had seen with him before the student council meeting, but she couldn't place his name. "Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Was this morning a bit too early for her highness?" The snarky comment made her close her eyes and take another deep breath, trying to calm the rage under the surface that was just begging for an outlet.
She ignored him and continued walking, but he wasn't finished. "I hear you scared the transfer off. No one has seen her since this morning."
It was a stupid barb, but she took the bait hook, line, and sinker. "Toma, it is no one's fault that you didn't make junior varsity, so you're going to have to stop taking it out on everyone at some point." She didn't know where the retort came from, but she regretted it all the same. That wasn't who she was supposed to be now. She needed to do better.
A quick glance back told her that she'd struck a nerve. The muscles in his jaw worked as he ground his teeth together. "Whatever," was all he said as he shouldered past her and out into the gymnasium.
As the students circled up near the whiteboard next to the coach's office, their teacher began explaining the plan for the day. She was a tall south asian woman with smooth features and muscle hewn from granite. She'd been an athlete of some kind in her prime, that much was obvious. Despite the grey in her hair, she was still in admirable shape.
They were a couple weeks into their unit on volleyball, Monika recalled, and they were starting the tournament bracket. The gymnasium was the same one used for pep rallies, and the space was big enough to house a full-sized basketball court. There was a huge focus on athletics at her school, that much she knew, and many of the students skilled enough to be starters on their respective teams were shoo-ins for full-rides to their college of choice.
There were two courts set up, and a few of the bleachers had been pulled out so that those not playing could have somewhere other than the floor to sit.
They were playing doubles, and Monika had paired up with the only other familiar face in class. One look at the bracket had Monika waiting in anticipation through several of the matches. Her team would be going up against Toma's. This was perfect, she could blow off some steam and wipe that cocky look off his face.
"Monika and A'isha versus Toma and Idir. Take your positions, please," their teacher called from the far court. As Toma took up the position across from Monika, he grinned at her before giving her a thumbs down.
A'isha seemed to pick up on the tension. She passed Monika on the way to the back of the court to serve. Clapping a hand on the green eyed girl's shoulder, she grinned. "Let's show them how it's done, yeah?"
"Inshallah." Monika responded, smiling. A'isha seemed surprised for a moment before flashing her an amused smirk and heading to her position.
The whistle blew, and the shorter girl stood stock still for a moment before she snapped into motion. She tossed the ball up and ahead of her by a short margin before leaping into the air and making contact with it. The serve arced over the net, seeming to hang in the air just past the defense. Toma called the ball and readied a receive, anticipating the trajectory perfectly–or at least that's what everyone watching would have thought, but Monika had noticed the lack of spin on the ball as it passed her.
Before the ball could reach Toma's read-waiting arms, it dropped suddenly. He lurched forward awkwardly trying to return it, but couldn't reach it in time. The ball hit the floor–a point for A'isha and Monika, and a blow to morale for Toma's side.
Monika smirked as Toma muttered something about "just warming up." Even if that were true, the girl leading the charge on her side was captain of the volleyball team. No way she was getting beat out by a B-lister wanna be like him.
A'isha readied another serve, tossed the ball ahead of her stride before jumping into the air, and–with the agility of an athlete in their prime–slammed her palm into the ball. The ball collided with the floor right inside the left sideline with a thunderous boom. Neither of the boys on the other side of the net had even moved.
"Nice serve!" Monika whooped. She couldn't help the cheshire smile that spread across her features when Toma cursed under his breath before turning to his team-mate and offering a few words of encouragement.
As the set carried on for a few more points, Monika began to think that perhaps the boys wouldn't be able to return a single one of A'isha's monster serves. She stayed ready regardless, keeping light on the balls of her feet, crouched and prepared on the off-chance the ball made it back over the net. It was a good thing, too, for no sooner had she had the thought, Toma dug for the ball and managed to bring it up, wincing at the force with which it hit his exposed forearms.
"It's up!" he called to his partner. Unfortunately for A'isha, Toma was a particularly vicious spiker. While he wasn't a starter on the team, he had been in the running for the boy's ace the previous year. As the set flew lightly from Idir's fingertips, Toma leaped into action, bringing the ball careening over the net and to the floor at A'isha's feet.
Monika clapped, "It's alright. We'll get the next one!"
The next serve was off and Monika received it with little difficulty. She wasn't a volleyball player by any stretch, but she had a knack for receiving. That much had become apparent in their first few days of drills, and she found that she quite enjoyed the game.
She hadn't realized, but most of the other games had finished up within a couple minutes with flubbed receives and serves directly into the net. By comparison, the four on the court were giving the best showing in the class, and a few clusters of students began to form to watch.
A'isha set to the right, and Monika could tell it was going to be blocked before the ball even contacted her fingers. The set was a bit high, and she didn't have the skill to feint. Idir's hands stretched high above the net and countered the ball's trajectory. It dropped on their side of the net, scoring another point for Toma's team.
The next couple points were a blur of fast receives and spikes, and then it was the green eyed boy's turn to serve again. Monika readied herself as best she could. There was no way he would aim for A'isha. The serve was up and sailing over the net nearly the instant the whistle sounded.
A short hop, barely millimeters off the ground gave her the freedom to shuffle to the left, bringing her directly under the path of the ball. It collided with her forearms with tremendous force, and she could feel the way the rotation slowed against her skin. Then, with the fluidity of a seasoned veteran, she lifted, sending the ball into a high, graceful arc right to A'isha's waiting hands.
The set went up diagonally in one graceful movement, sending the ball to the far left of the court. Monika knew the spike would go through before she even chased down the ball. Her feet flew under her as she sprinted to the outside edge of the net before spiking. Every part of her hand made contact with the ball, and it was as if time had slowed. Her eyes found their mark in the space right between the two boys. As she reached the highest point of her jump, she brought the ball down, slamming it to the floor in a sharp downward angle.
As she had anticipated, her opponents both hesitated, and the ball landed between them, each of them having been certain that the other would make the receive. The student serving as ref signaled the point, and off to the side a couple students called encouragement to Toma and his partner while a few others still congratulated her on the point.
This was what she had been missing out on all this time? All that time living in a bland facsimile of a world. No taste, no smell, no real sensation. This? This was incredible. It was as though she could feel every muscle fiber as they bunched and stretched to enact her will. Her blood roared in her ears. She had never felt so alive.
That point seemed to tick Toma off, and he stalked back to his spot angrily. He'd wanted to score a service ace off her, she knew. It was her turn to serve, and she grimaced. For all her lucky skill at receiving, her serving was abysmal. She sent a silent prayer that the ball would at least make it over the net before hitting it underhand. The ball cleared the net, but that was about all it did. Toma received with a bark of laughter.
Off to her right she heard someone say something that pulled her attention momentarily. "Wait, is that the new girl? Damn, she's kinda hot, no?" Sure enough, just barely obscured by the wall to the girls' locker room, was the tall, bookish girl. She seemed to have been talking to someone, but got lured in by the game going on.
Monika knew it was a mistake the moment she turned her head, that she should have been paying attention to the ball, but it was too late. As her eyes met Yuri's, there was a cacophonous boom that rattled her entire body. Lavender eyes widened in horror. Then, Monika's head snapped further to the side–she was pretty sure she heard something crack–and everything went dark.
It's the same thing. Again and again and again and again and AGAIN! Where is he? I want to speak with the doctor! Not these, these THINGS! I'm not like them! I'm different! Tell him I'm DIFFERENT! No no no no no NO! Let me OUT OF HERE!
Wait a minute… there were only two of you before. Who are you? Who sent you? Was it him? Are you here to let me out? You're different from them, I can tell! You're like me! Tell him to let me out! Tell him, or I will make you! I swear on my LIFE that I will MAKE YOU!
"Monika? Oh my god, Monika! Are you okay?" Someone was calling to her, but she could barely hear them over the ringing. Was an alarm going off somewhere?
Her vision was hazy as she looked around. Yuri was nowhere to be seen, but she was surrounded by students and the teacher. By some miracle, she was still on her feet but everything seemed off. She staggered, feeling like the ground was heaving under her.
"Alright everyone, give her some space to breathe, please." That was her teacher.
To her left, she heard "I'm so sorry. Monika, really, I didn't realize you weren't looking. You have to believe me." It was Toma, or rather Tomas, since there seemed to be two of him. He looked ill. He was trying to get over to her, but a couple of other students ushered him away. There was still some ringing that she finally realized was probably in her ears and everything tasted like blood. She reached up gingerly to touch her face, but stopped short. There was something hard in her mouth. She spat it into her hand.
"Oh" was all she said as she looked at the bloody molar in her hand.
"Somebody catch her, she's about to–"