Her head hurt. Like, it really, really hurt. That was the first thought that came to her mind when Monika woke up. She was in the nurse's office, that much was obvious. When her eyes fluttered open, A'isha was sitting on a stool nearby, nose buried in her phone, one earbud dangling limply down her front. The girl must have heard her shift on the bed because she was up in a moment, closing the book and placing it down where she had been sitting. "Hey, don't move around too much okay? I'll go grab Mr. Gleidfeld."
Monika didn't say anything in response, staring mutely at the wall across from her. When the other girl came back, she was followed closely by a dark skinned man of average height in corduroy slacks and a cable knit sweater. He sat down on the stool adjacent to the bed, leaning forward with his hands on his knees. A'isha stood off to the side, looking concerned.
"Monika?" He asked gently. She turned to look at him, her vision still a bit hazy. "Do you know where you are?"
Her tongue felt huge in her mouth as she answered. "School."
He nodded, seeming a little bit more at ease. "And do you know what day it is?"
"Friday."
"Alright. Could you follow my finger with your eyes, please?"
She tried to nod and winced when the motion sent her vision swimming again.
A slight furrow in his brow told her that her reactions weren't immediately reassuring. "Don't push yourself. We can come back to this later. Do you remember what happened?"
She swallowed, her throat dry and scratchy. Her mouth tasted horrible. "Uh, it was gym class. We were playing volleyball. I served and then…" A spike of pain shot through her head like a knife and she groaned, doubling over with her head in her hands.
Mr. Gleidfeld was talking to A'isha next in a hushed tone. "Do you know if the office was able to get ahold of Mrs. Chaunick?"
The girl shook her head in reply. "No, they said it went to voicemail, but they would keep trying."
He sighed frustratedly before composing himself and turning back to Monika. "Do you have the work number for your mom?" he asked gently.
Despite the splitting pain in her skull, Monika had the sense to temper her response. "No. She doesn't… have time to take phone calls at work. It's Friday, so she's probably in court." Talking was getting easier, but the pain wasn't letting up. She realized that there was a wad of gauze in her mouth. Nausea roiled in her stomach when she remembered the sensation of her tooth popping loose. All she wanted to do was go back to sleep. Her brain was foggy, and every part of her body weighed her down into the mattress as if she was being swallowed up by quicksand. When she moved to lay back down, a hand stopped her.
"I'm sorry, Monika, but we can't let you go back to sleep so soon. You're concussed, so we're going to have to keep you awake as long as possible. We're also going to have you under observation for the next twenty-four hours, alright?" It wasn't the best news she'd heard all day, but she supposed it could have been worse. "A'isha, would you mind staying with her for a few minutes? I'm going to head down to the office and find out what's going on. We should have multiple numbers on file for everyone's parents."
"Yeah, not a problem," she replied immediately.
"Great, thank you. I'll be back shortly."
When the door clicked shut behind him, A'isha inched closer. "Are you okay? That was one nasty hit you took."
Monika didn't look up, instead trying to adjust the pillows behind her into a more comfortable position without jostling her head too much. The other girl moved to help her. "I've been worse," she responded quietly.
A'isha nodded understandingly. "You know," she began, "coach really tore Toma a new one over that. He never should have hit it that hard at your head. He shouldn't have hit it that hard period. It was gym class, not an actual match."
Monika laughed humourlessly. "He just hates me."
A'isha frowned, looking at her closely. "Really? You two always seem fine at the student council meetings, so I just assumed… I'm sorry. I didn't notice."
Monika waved her off. "No, no. It's fine. I'm just a little out of it. Besides, it was my own fault for not paying attention."
"If you say so," she said uncertainly. "Do you need anything? Another pillow?" She was fidgeting, though whether from concern or discomfort, Monika couldn't tell.
"No, that's okay." There was silence for a moment. "Actually, could I have some water?"
The girl nodded, already moving towards the door before stopping. "You sure you'll be okay for a few while I'm out? There's supposed to be someone with you…"
Monika waved away her worry. "It's okay. I'm feeling a little better. Don't worry, I won't go comatose on you or anything." That seemed to be enough, and she exited, the door falling shut behind her.
And then she was alone again.
Somewhere out of view, a clock was ticking, and she realized she had no idea what time it was or how long she'd been out. She'd forgotten to ask.
She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself despite the painful way her heart was clenching in her chest. Her throat was tight, her breathing shallow. Now that the fog was starting to clear, faint echoes of her own voice chased each other through the dark corners of her mind, whispers of memories whistling through like a strong breeze through a cave. They kept playing at the edges of her consciousness, but she blocked them out, forcefully overwriting them with whatever she could.
She could do this. She just had to get through the day and get home. Then she could be alone. Then she could think. Just. Push it down, she thought roughly. It's fine.
By the time the nurse came back, Monika had downed most of a bottle of water along with a dose of painkillers, though she had snuck double the amount when A'isha wasn't looking. He looked at Monika appraisingly. "You seem to be doing a bit better," he voiced.
Monika gave a weak smile, nodding without causing herself cataclysmic levels of pain.
"Alright then, lets run you through a couple more tests. I'm sorry, we couldn't get ahold of your mother. Hopefully she'll get back to us before the end of the day. And I have a slip for you to take home asking her to provide us with her work number, okay?"
Monika took the paper. "I'm sure she'll call me when she can. She'll be picking me up this afternoon anyway," she lied easily. The last thing she wanted was for this to get back to her mother before she was home, though that was unlikely based on the sheer volume of calls she'd probably received from the school.
If you're screaming like that, you'd better be getting kidnapped or dying, do you hear me?
The memory flowed back to her so smoothly that she almost didn't realize it was one of the fake ones. Herself, probably six or seven, wailing over a skinned knee as her mother had been taking a call from a client. She shuddered.
Mr. Gleidfeld was talking, and she only caught the tail end of what he was saying. "-so you should be alright to attend your club, but I want you to make sure you head straight home with your mother, alright? And please make sure you follow up with your primary care physician in the next couple of days."
Monika nodded as though she had been listening the whole time. "Yes, sir."
He smiled, satisfied that she was taking his warning seriously. "Good. Now you just relax. Eighth period has already started, so it wouldn't make sense for you to head back now anyway. You should also try to avoid doing anything too strenuous this evening or over the weekend, okay?"
"Of course."
He nodded his head with finality. "I'm going to head over to my desk now, but I'm right there if you need anything, okay?"
The next forty minutes crawled by. A'isha had headed back to class, and Monika's phone screen was far too bright to look at for any extended period of time, even on its lowest setting, so she took to counting the tiles on the ceiling. She was on her third or fourth round when the bell finally rang. It was a loud, clamorous thing, and she couldn't help but wince a little.
She waited for a while longer, hoping to let the halls clear out and most of the students head home before venturing back to her locker to collect her things.
By the time Monika rounded the hallway to the club that afternoon, club activities should have started about ten minutes ago. Curiously enough, she was met with the sight of Natsuki, arms laden with manga, struggling to balance the towering stack as she shuffled through the doorway. The moment the pink haired girl was out of sight, there was the tell-tale "shit" followed by the sound of clattering books.
The President hurried forward, wheeling around the doorway with concern creasing her features. Her fears of a serious injury were soon abated as she took in the scene before her. Natsuki was glaring at the scattered books around her and shaking out one hand. "Damn it." The moment she noticed the green eyes tracing the mess around her, she looked away sheepishly, a pink hue tinting her cheeks and ears.
Taking the last few steps forward, Monika chuckled before holding out her hand. "Why were you carrying so many?" Natsuki swatted it away lightly and pushed herself to her feet.
The pinkette dusted off her backside and cracked her knuckles, assessing the damage to the box set that had taken the brunt of the fall. "Fewer trips. Duh. And I'm fine, thanks for asking," she replied snarkily while grimacing at the dented corner before cursing under her breath.
"Let me help you." Monika pulled the offending item out of her grasp and settled it onto her shoulder, reaching down to grab a few loose copies while she was at it. She tried her best to hide the way she staggered slightly as the sudden inversion caused her vision to swim.
Natsuki stared at her now empty hands blankly. "What-"
Monika cut off whatever argumentative rebuttal was forthcoming swiftly. "It'll be quicker that way, right? Besides, Sayori said she was going to be a little late today."
The shorter girl made a face like she had caught a whiff of something foul. "When'd she say that?"
Monika weaved through the desks past Natsuki and hefted the box onto the upper shelf in the closet. "On lunch," she called over her shoulder.
If anything, that seemed to worsen the pinkette's mood substantially. "Oh. She was with you? No wonder I didn't see her."
For a moment, Monika stood, frowning at the shelves already beginning to fill with volumes of bright, colorful books. Then, realization dawned on her. "Natsuki, I'm her tutor."
There was a grumble from just beyond the doorway, "I knew that." If Monika had been less familiar with the temperamental girl, she might have believed that. As it was, she recognized an attempt to save face for what it was and let it slide. "You look like shit, by the way. What happened to your face?"
She sighed, reaching up to touch her face self-consciously before hissing at the spike of pain. "Gym." She didn't elaborate, instead glancing down at the handful of manga remaining and considering them for a moment. They were holographic in nature, depicting a strange, moody city-scape. "Where do you want these?" she asked.
"Anywhere is fine. I'll rearrange them later." The reply was vague and disinterested and Monika shook her head before setting to the task of placing the books in the best order she could.
"Do I even want to know where you were keeping all of these before?" Natsuki didn't dignify the question with a response.
They fell into a rhythm of Natsuki bringing arm loads of volumes to Monika to place on the shelves. Once they had cleaned up the mess Natsuki had created, they trekked through the halls to Natsuki's locker. It was tucked in one of the lower bays beneath the rear main stairs, right next to the entrance to the gymnasium. The sound of equipment hitting the wood floor and sneakers squeaking echoed out from the space along with the occasional shout. Monika leaned against the adjacent row of lockers, trying to look casual despite the way her body melded heavily into the cold metal. She watched Natsuki struggle, doing her best to keep the amusement off her face.
The shorter girl must have noticed her staring. "You didn't have to come with me, you know. I could have grabbed them by myself." Her voice was muffled by how comically far she had to lean to reach the top shelf. The offensively red lockers in this bay were much deeper than hers, situated in two stacked rows such that they were closer to cubes than the tall, thin ones Monika had always been assigned. Her mind helpfully supplied that Natsuki could probably fit in one of them with room to spare.
"I know. What if I just wanted to see what your locker number was?" Her teasing tone was a bit too familiar, and she inwardly berated herself. This was only the second time they were meeting in this world. It didn't matter how many times they had joked like that before, that was a different timeline entirely.
Luckily, Natsuki seemed to be in one of her rare generous moods and rolled with the punch. "Right. You don't exactly strike me as the stalker type." The locker clanged under the pressure from her shoulder as she leaned against it to shut it.
"Hm. Dunno about that." She let a cheshire grin spread across her face and the shorter girl rolled her eyes, offloading a sizable portion of the stack of books into Monika's waiting arms.
Maybe it was the friendly atmosphere, or maybe it was the way her thoughts were already meandering through the sludge of concussion induced fog that her next words slipped through her filter before she could stop it. "Just curious, why don't you leave these at home and just bring the ones you're reading with you?"
She could hear the footsteps beside her fall silent, a distant look splashed across the shorter girl's features like muddy water kicked up by a passing car. Her eyes were hollow, as though fixed on something in the distance that no one else could see.
It only lasted a moment, but it pierced Monika's heart in a way that stole her breath. That one look told Monika everything she needed to know. Her heart floundered uselessly under the weight of the realization before it sank. So that was it, huh? Out of everything that had changed since the reset, Natsuki's situation remained the same. She didn't have to say it.
"Dunno. Just seems easier this way."
Monika didn't press the issue any further, and the two walked in an uncomfortable silence the rest of the way back to the club room, the previous friendly atmosphere cooled to a frigid chill.
When the reached the clubroom once more, they were greeted with a livid Sayori. "What part of 'take it easy' did you miss?" She admonished, hurrying forward to take the books out of Monika's hands. "And you," she turned to Natsuki, "-do not need to enable her bad habits."
Monika sat heavily in the nearest desk, realizing just how much her head was throbbing only after having been called out. She ignored the realization that news of her injury must have spread pretty far in the time she was out for Sayori to have heard about it, opting instead to try to revive some of the friendly banter. "And which bad habit might that be?" she inquired.
Sayori disappeared into the supply closet, and Monika heard the sound of books being slotted on the shelves. Natsuki followed her in, and then Sayori's head popped around the corner. She fixed Monika with a scathing stare. "The one where you neglect your own needs in order to help someone else. I don't approve, by the way."
"Right, like Princess there would ever put anyone else first," Natsuki retorted moodily.
Sayori made a sour face. "Natsuki!"
Monika chuckled morosely. "Well, she's not exactly wrong," she muttered under her breath.
"What was that?"
"Nothing! Anyway, I'm fine, Say. You don't need to worry about me. I'm going to rest as soon as I get home, okay? Besides, they weren't that heavy anyway." Lie after lie. She was really laying it on thick that afternoon.
It was Natsuki who leaned out next, looking between the two of them. "Say? You two are on a pet-name basis now?"
Sayori rolled her eyes, tugging on a lock of pink hair, "Oh stop it, don't be all jealous."
Natsuki flushed at the accusation, swatted the hand away and sputtered. "I-I'm not jealous."
Monika couldn't help herself. "Whatever you say, Cupcake." Maybe she had a death wish.
"I will literally suffocate you in your sleep, Prez. Don't try me." The seething pinkette was about to march in her direction when Sayori grabbed the collar of her shirt, forcing her to choose between air and getting to the now cackling club president.
The banter died off after that. While Sayori and Natsuki busied themselves finishing tidying up the hurricane of manga, Monika sat, tapping her pen restlessly against a blank page. She was trying to keep her mind occupied to no avail.
Who are you?
She couldn't get the memory, or hallucination or whatever it was, out of her head. It was as though something was right there, under the surface, but a smooth, thin sheet of ice was keeping her from the frigid depths below. Cracks were beginning to form, though, and she couldn't shake the feeling that it was only a matter of time before she would crash through–be swept under by the rapid current of things she had tried so hard to forget.
A soft hand on her shoulder caught her by surprise. "Hey, are you okay?" Sayori was looking at her with a small frown and Monika cursed her carelessness. The blue eyed girl had plenty of other things to worry about without throwing a dysfunctional, mess of a club president into the mix.
She fixed herself with a warm smile. "Yeah, just thinking. But," she said decisively, pushing herself out of the desk and into an upright position, "we have a club to run."
Sayori, thankfully, seemed convinced, smiling back. "Right." She paused for a moment. "Soooo… what did you have in mind?"
Monika tilted her head and clasped her hands in front of herself, smiling widely. "I think we should read some manga." From a desk off to her right she heard Natsuki groan.
A couple of hours and a heated discussion about fanservice later, Natsuki and Sayori said their goodbyes, heading off to Sayori's house. Sayori had invited the taller girl to accompany them–much to Natsuki's displeasure–but Monika declined, assuring the girl that she would simply wait for her mother to pick her up.
As the two departed, Monika gave a brief wave before heading back to lock up the clubroom. The sun would be setting in another hour or so, so she took her time scooping up her pen and papers, sliding them deftly into her backpack without so much as looking at it while her eyes traced over the room and the view beyond the windows. The shadows had grown longer as the sun began its descent across the sky, painting the clouds in a magnificent orange and pink tapestry. Golden hour, her mind supplied, unprompted.
Maybe it was the concussion, or maybe it was the melancholic squeeze of her heart as she witnessed the beautiful sunset, but as she headed down the hall intent on making the inevitably exhausting journey home, she stopped at a familiar door.
Perhaps… just for a moment.
The door swung easily on its hinges before she'd really even decided to open it, her body moving of its own accord. As she sat upon the scratched, lacquered pine bench, she shrugged off her backpack once more. Her spine straightened, her feet finding the pedals beneath them as easily as breathing, and her fingers lifted the lid off the keys.
One hesitant note rang out, the mallet striking string to resonate throughout the room.
The sound of scales and arpeggios flowed out into the hallway through the slightly ajar door before giving way to a few more technical warmup exercises that Monika knew by heart. As she went, she found her rhythm, eyes drifting shut as she allowed herself to be carried off in the comforting arms of music. All her worries melted away, and her mind grew still for the first time since she had been dropped into this strange life.
Before long, her melodies grew more confident and she found herself beginning a familiar tune, one she had crafted long ago when she'd first began to learn the instrument.
As the intro drew to a close, she found her voice, even if it was a bit unsteady.
"Every day, I imagine a future where I can be with you
In my hand is a pen that will write a poem of me and you.
The ink flows down into a dark puddle.
Just move your hand, write the way into his heart.
But in this world of infinite choices
What will it take just to find that special day
What will it take just to find…" Suddenly, a lump formed in her throat, cutting off the words. She swallowed roughly at the uncomfortable sensation as her fingers continued to plink out the melody.
As the song neared its end, a raspy whisper slipped between clenched teeth. "And in your reality, If I don't know how to love you…" she trailed off, leaving the last words of the song unfinished.
Slowly, Monika's fingers stilled on the keys until the room faded to silence once again. She sat there, her mind succumbing to the siren's pull of memories from the past.
A monster.
That monster had said and done so many terrible, unforgivable things to the people who had treated her with nothing but kindness, no matter how artificial. There wasn't any way to deny it, though; that green eyed monster and the current her were one and the same. No one had forced her to do the things she had. Sure, she had felt compelled to by her obsession with the player, with the possibility of a reality beyond the cardboard walls of the clubroom in which she had always been confined, but it was still her choice.
Again and again she iterated over her mistakes, following them to their catastrophic conclusion.
Self loathing bubbled just under her skin, spreading like a rash as she recalled every moment, down to the most inconsequential detail. She picked apart every conversation–scrutinized her every word–until her head throbbed. Neat, manicured nails dug into her scalp as she clutched her head, slamming palms over her ears as if that would stop the flow of voices coming from deep within her.
A flash of Sayori's eyes, dull and lifeless, flashed through Monika's mind and she stood abruptly, the piano bench teetering dangerously on two legs behind her. The seat lingered there, suspended in equilibrium–in time–for only an instant before clattering over behind her. Monika screwed her eyes shut as though that would banish the image from her mind. Her throat felt tight and her heart began to pound as static filled her ears. Yuri's corpse, bloody and lifeless, filled her senses. The stench of decaying flesh filled her nostrils making her gag.
This had been a mistake, a terrible, terrible mistake.
She jerked her backpack from the ground and turned rapidly to leave, tripping over the upended bench. Her shin collided with one of the legs and she cursed through ragged breathing, slowing just enough to right the bench before fleeing out the door.
Her hand caught the lightswitch on her way out, plunging the room into darkness. It echoed with the tendrils of things she wished she could forget, things she wished she could take back. With one hand clasped over her mouth holding in a silent scream, she shoved her way out of the room, shouldering the door roughly out of her way as she went, not bothering to stop and close it. Her rapid footfalls clicked as she dashed down the hall, a sharp staccato against the linoleum that punctuated each step like a knife lodged in her chest.
From further down the hall, a lone figure watched her go.