The coffee shop was bustling, the early before-church crowd flowing in–dressed to the nines–to get their fix before heading off to service in droves. It was becoming a fascinating and familiar sight to Monika, having started the routine of waking up just as the place was opening to get some early studying done. During the week it was the white collar corporate employees, and on the weekends it was the WASP's and their herd of whining children.
Initially, she'd tried to do her work at home, but the place had such a suffocating air about it that she found it hard to concentrate. Not to mention that if she was at home her mother assumed that meant she had nothing better to be doing than whatever whim struck her fancy at any given moment, and there was nothing Monika hated more than being interrupted by her name being shouted across the massive house.
She poked at a croissant, tearing off crunchy shreds and popping them into her mouth absentmindedly, not noticing the way the pastry teetered closer to the rim of the plate each time. Before her was spread several stacks of pamphlets, a speech and a mood board.
Her unoccupied hand wandered across the table, searching blindly for the handle of her mug, her attention firmly affixed on the block of text before her. After tossing the piece of pastry into her mouth, she picked up the paper. She held it closer to her face as if that would jostle more words free from the black box that was her brain before scowling and setting it back down, curling her lip even more intensely when she noticed the buttery thumbprint she'd left in the margin.
She finally grasped her cold brew, bringing it to her lips and savoring the lightly sweetened cold foam on top. The milky, white surface held her gaze as she searched for some manner of inspiration. Doubless, it wouldn't be found in the bottom of her cup, but she could still try.
"Look who's up and about!" The jovial tone could only belong to one person, and Monika found herself smiling before she even looked up.
"Sayori. Good morning. I didn't know you liked this place."
The girl smiled at her brightly, taking the chair across from her. "Oh, I don't drink coffee, but they have an amazing dark chocolate cocoa."
That figured, Monika thought. Leave it to Sayori to come to a coffee shop for hot chocolate.
"What about you, what are you having?" She eyed the layered drink through the glass mug suspiciously. "I thought you only like your coffee black?"
Monika snorted, scooting the mug across the table towards the other girl. "See for yourself."
Sayori lifted the cup, taking an experimental sniff before bringing it to her lips. She was bundled in a familiar red jacket and jeans, her head adorned with a knitted cap topped with a fluffy white pom pom. Adorable.
Her face screwed into one of disgust, and she put the coffee down nearly as quickly as she'd picked it up. The image of distaste was ruined by the bit of foam that remained on her upper lip, and Monika couldn't help but chuckle at the reaction as she stared at the drink, offended. "Gross, what is that?"
She shook her head. "Hey, didn't anyone ever teach you not to yuck someone's yum?" she admonished jokingly.
"Yuck someone's yum? How old are you, Monika? You sound like an old man," she deadpanned.
Green eyes sparkled with mirth. "It's rosmery, mint and black pepper cold foam on an espresso cold brew, and I happen to like it, Say," she retorted, poking the other girl on the tip of her nose before gesturing to her mouth. "And you've got a little–"
Understanding dawned on the coral haired girl and she hastily swiped the back of her hand across her lip, drawing another laugh from the club president. "Anyway," she began, still slightly flushed, "what are you doing here? Should you really be out walking this far with your, you know," she gestured to her head meaningfully.
Monika sighed, fighting the urge to touch her face. It was painted an ugly greenish yellow, with blotches of purple and maroon around her jawline and cheekbone. It still hurt something fierce, but pain was a companion she was becoming quite familiar with. "Maybe not, but I wasn't going to get any work done at home, and I really needed to focus."
Sayori hummed thoughtfully. "Your mom?"
"Yup," she responded, punctuating the 'p' with a pop. Another sigh flowed out from between lightly chapped lips.
Her friend looked at her sympathetically. "She sounds…" she searched for the word, "strict."
Monika let out a bark of laughter, "Yeah, that's a nice word for it." She noticed the tension in the blue eyed girl's expression and followed the bitter statement up quickly. "It's okay, Say. It's not that bad, really." She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, latching onto a flap of skin before stopping herself, recognizing the emergent habit she had developed for chewing them until they bled. Maybe she should get a chapstick. Would that even help?
Sayori didn't look sold, but took the reassurance for what it was, instead turning the focus of the conversation back to a safer topic. "Soooooo…. what'cha workin' on?" She leaned forward, peering at the upside down papers, her bangs, not pinned under her cap like the rest of her hair, flopped down over her face before being swiped back behind her ears.
Monika hummed thoughtfully. "Materials for Homecoming. I'm in charge of event planning for it. You know, student council stuff."
That piqued the shorter girl's interest immediately. "Wait, so you know what the theme is?"
Monika pressed one fingertip into the girl's forehead, pushing her back. "No one is supposed to know about it yet, you dork."
Sayori feigned hurt but it was rapidly replaced by a conspiratorial grin. "Student Council President's best friend privileges?"
"Not even close," she followed up seamlessly, rolling her eyes with a smirk. "Now get your cocoa and get going. I have to get this done before Tomorrow, and I happen to know that you," she punctuated the statement with a tap on the other girl's nose, "have plans."
Sayori pouted, but pushed herself up and out of the chair. "Meanie."
"Text you later," she replied, giving a short wave which Sayori happily returned before heading over to the counter to order. Several minutes later, she was off to meet up with Natsuki, sending Monika one more wave as she went.
As the crowd began to thin, and only a few patrons remained to occupy the various tables and booths, Monika tried to return to the task at hand. She didn't know the first thing about event planning, really. There was music of course. Refreshments? She knew the treasury would be responsible for the actual bookings and payment, but she didn't want to leave all the work up to them. She supposed they might be able to ask some of the parents from the music association if they had any recommendations. And there were always those willing to do anything to get into the school's good graces–like cooking and baking massive amounts of food for an auditorium full of growing teenagers.
As she reasoned through a few more ideas, jotting notes down as they came to her, she found her mind drifting off once again. Her pen slowed until it was resting, still point down, on the page. Her eyes unfocused as she stared out the massive cafe windows. It was a cold day with forecasted freezing rain later that evening, so the streets were bustling with people out doing their shopping and errands, taking advantage of the morning sunshine before the weather turned.
She was glad she'd had the sense to actually wear a coat. It was a pale tan, tweed material that reminded her of some show she'd watched when she was younger. Wearing it made her feel like a detective. If only she actually possessed some manner of skill for such a thing, perhaps she would be feeling more at ease following recent events, or at least have some sort of clue as to what she was dealing with.
Lyll was avoiding her, which she found ironic considering the fact that they had approached her. The strangeness of the entire interaction hadn't sat well with her, and she hadn't been able to get it out of her head for days. She supposed it would have been easier to confront them about it if they'd shared any classes, but Lyll was one grade below her, and–apparently–a very busy person with their hands in nearly every activity available to the junior class.
The constant grasping at straws was wearing her down. It had been a month and a half of this strangeness since she'd woken up in the clubroom, and the longer it went on, the more she began to question herself. Perhaps she was just hallucinating. Had there ever been a game at all? Sometimes, in the stillness of the night, she would have a dream so vivid that the only explanation was that it was no dream, but rather a memory. And yet, when she woke, she couldn't recall a single detail.
The only lead she had was Lyll's initial claim, that the book that had disappeared from the school library–and the annals of the internet at large–was somehow still in circulation. Of course she had taken the first bus into the city that same weekend, determined to put her mind at ease, but to no avail. The receptionist had checked for her to the same conclusion–it simply didn't exist.
She sighed to herself, noting how far off topic her thoughts had wandered. She had work to do. The mundane day to day wasn't going to wait for some earth shattering epiphany, irrespective of how desperately she wished she could just hit pause on everything like she used to. She'd had so much more time to think back then. She shook her head–too much time to think. Maybe it was better this way, actually.
The next few items on her list were perhaps even more overwhelming than the last. The decorations, invitations to alumni, and–worst of all–the announcement of the Homecoming court. Her fingers tapped agitatedly on the table. She was supposed to give a speech at the dance. It was to be expected, of course, seeing as she was the Class President, but she absolutely loathed public speaking. Despite her nack for it, and her impeccable ability to exude confidence she often found herself sorely lacking at her core, the thought of getting up on stage in front of her peers made her insides turn.
She had most of the points planned out: an announcement of the football team making it to regionals, the deliverance of a number of academic and music awards, the announcement of the court, and words of encouragement for midterms. She'd round it all out with some fluffy, feel-good waffle and be done with it. Even so, pulling the thoughts out of her mind and onto paper was taking a herculean effort. Especially when she couldn't seem to keep her focus for more than a few minutes at a time this morning.
That, and there was one more thing that was nagging at her, or rather one more person.
In the couple weeks since the "volleyball incident," as Sayori had begun to refer to it, Monika hadn't had much chance to talk to Yuri at all. The girl was incredibly elusive without even seeming to try. While she couldn't be entirely certain, it was as if Yuri was avoiding her as well. The students' initial excitement over the bookworm's sudden appearance had dissipated in the wake of her extremely introverted behavior. She mainly kept to herself between classes, nose buried in a hefty tome, or studying, or busying herself with any number of other mundane tasks.
Most conversations anyone started with the girl ended with brief, one word answers, or–at worst–a blank stare. Monika shuddered at the thought, feeling sorry for the few other students who had chosen to attempt such a feat. Surprising to no one, Toma seemed to have taken it upon himself to ingratiate himself to her, sitting in front of her before the beginning of homeroom and attempting to engage her in all manner of small talk. Despite his numerous attempts–in the halls, during PE, or on the rare occasion Monika had spotted them together at lunch–he seemed to be getting nowhere which didn't surprise her in the least. He wasn't exactly Yuri's type, or at least she didn't think he was. What did surprise her, however, was his shift in attitude towards her.
It wasn't as though they were on track to become fast friends, but he did his best to stay out of her way, no longer picking fights with her–at least not directly. Whether it was out of guilt, or just to stay out from under A'isha's newly developing scrutiny, she couldn't really tell.
Regardless, it did bother her a little–okay, a lot–that Yuri seemed to have formed such an aversion to her specifically. After having been scripted into close quarters so often in their previous iterations–and with how quickly she had reunited with Sayori and Natsuki–a part of her had assumed that their eventual rapport was a foregone conclusion, another fixed point in the elongated plot of this reality. For a while during their initial [thousandth] meeting, she thought they were coming to some sort of mutual understanding, that they were perhaps on their way to becoming friends. Apparently, she had been woefully mistaken.
Her ponytail flopped heavily over the back of the chair as she leaned back, reaching one arm above her and hooking her other hand over her elbow in a leisurely stretch. She was just reaching the fullest extent of the motion, feeling her ribs expand and relieving the tension that had been building up in her shoulders when a soft voice from behind her nearly sent her out of her chair.
"You know, it isn't recommended to imbibe caffeine while recovering from a dental injury."
She whipped her head around, realizing for the first time that someone had taken the seat behind her. Long purple hair cascaded down the other patron's back. How had she not noticed her before? How long had she been there?
It took her far too long to realize that Yuri was waiting for a response, though it felt strange to be talking to her back. "I guess it's a good thing I'm all healed up, then," she replied tensely, turning back in her seat to fidget with the rim of her mug. She ran one long finger around the rim, trying to soothe herself with the repetitive motion.
The other girl stood, teacup in hand and stepped over to her table. "Would you mind if I took a seat?" Her gaze was lowered to her shoes, and Monika noted the way the teacup trembled ever so slightly against the little saucer it was resting upon in shaky hands.
"Not at all," she replied a bit too quickly, scooping a few of the loose pages out of the way so that the other girl had somewhere to set her cup.
Yuri hummed her appreciation and placed her drink in the newly available spot, tucking her knee-length, black and white plaid skirt beneath her as she moved to sit. For a few moments the two just looked at eachother, each waiting for the other to speak. When the eye contact became too much for her, Yuri looked away, fidgeting with her fingers.
It was Monika who broke the silence first. "I'm sorry I didn't say hello sooner, I didn't see you come in."
Yuri pursed her lips, nodding. "You were otherwise occupied." It must have been while she was talking to Sayori, then, she thought. Even so, the girl was quiet as a wraith, nearly as invisible, too, when she wanted to be.
"Right."
Again, silence stretched between them. The other patrons went about their day, cups clinking, the sound of the milk steamer and espresso machine, ice being scooped into to-go cups and the blenders whirring away.
Monika cursed internally. Why was this so hard? She could talk to just about anyone, with a little effor, but the moment she was within a few meters of this girl, her words simply refused to come to her. It, perhaps, couldn't be blamed entirely on her. Yuri wasn't much help in this situation either. Monika truly couldn't tell if the silence bothered the taller girl as much as it did her.
When she finally caught Yuri's eyes again, she was struck with an odd sense of deja vu. Lilac eyes narrowed at her slightly, as though she were searching for something. "That girl seemed nice."
For a moment, Monika looked at her, confused. "Oh, you mean Sayori?" She received a brief nod in response. At that, Monika smiled easily. "Definitely. She's probably one of the nicest people on the planet. I'm really lucky to know her, ahaha."
"How did you two meet?" she inquired, tilting her head to one side in a way that reminded Monika of a curious cat–discerningly clever and fatally curious.
"Tutoring, actually. She was struggling in math last year–close to failing. I was a volunteer student aid at the time, so they asked me to work with her." The reply came to her so easily that it should have bothered her, this integration of the past into herself. There was no longer the clashing dissonance she had experienced initially, and the lines between what was and what had been, were becoming more blurred with each passing day.
Yuri regarded her for a moment. "That's very admirable of you."
Monika flushed, snapping out of her peripatetic musings. "Oh, I don't know about that," she replied dismissively. "I can't say whether I've been much help, but she seems to think so. After that, she offered to join my club."
"The Literature Club," Yuri followed up easily.
"That's the one."
Yuri took a moment to sip her–what Monika could only assume to be–tea, savoring it with closed eyes before they opened, fixing her with a surprisingly intense stare. "And she seems to be enjoying her time in your club?"
The question struck her as odd, but she tried not to dwell on it. "I… hope so?" She realized that perhaps she didn't actually know the answer to that. She hadn't offered any complaints so far at least. She'd even invited her best friend. "Why do you ask?"
Yuri offered a thoughtful hum. "No reason in particular. I suppose I was just curious." Yuri's eyes flicked down to her cheek, and Monika flushed deeper, turning her face unconsciously to obscure the other girl's view. The movement didn't go unnoticed. "How are your injuries?"
Monika offered her a terse smile, remembering the moment she'd caught Yuri's eyes in the gym before being knocked unconscious. How embarrassing. "They're healing," she replied ruefully. "Pretty stupid of me, getting distracted like that. I should have been paying more attention."
The purple haired girl inclined her head, taking another sip of her tea before replying. "Perhaps… though it did seem that things were a bit intense for a friendly scrimmage between classmates." She'd hit the nail on the head with that one, and Monika ducked her gaze, finger drawing another circle around the rim of her now drained mug.
"I–we're a pretty competitive school." The explanation sounded weak, even to her own ears
When she looked up, she found herself transfixed by sibylline, lavender eyes. "The entire school, or you in particular?"
Monika stared at her, mouth opening and closing several times as she struggled to formulate a response. The abrasiveness of the insinuation seemed to dawn on Yuri suddenly, and her eyes widened, losing some of their intensity. "S-sorry. Th-that was rude of me. I meant no offense." The return of her stutter broke the tension that had begun forming since the moment she sat down at the table, and Monika took the opportunity that presented itself to find her footing.
"Oh, no. None taken," she waved it off.
"N-no, I apologize. I often speak without thinking about how it may come across. I forget that sometimes my observations are… unwelcome at best. It is something I am working on…" She trailed off, hiding her eyes in her curtain of hair, lips set in a worried line as she pulled the bottom one between her teeth.
Monika smiled fondly, feeling the tense atmosphere between them dissipate entirely at the admission. "It's fine, really. You're not wrong, I guess." She brought a finger to her lip, pursing them thoughtfully. "Competitive, huh? Now that you mention it, I suppose I am. Not really something I've ever considered before." It was true. Her perfectionist attitude left her often striving to be the best at many things, and there was some level of pride there, too. It felt good to be good at things. Fulfilling. A small part of her balked at the insinuation, noting the slippery slope that posed. "I suppose it's a good thing to be aware of. Competition is fine, but I tend to air on the side of recklessness sometimes."
Yuri offered her a soft smile, "Like in the gym?"
Monika sighed self-effacingly before returning a smile of her own. "Like in the gym."
For a while, the two fell into amicable silence, Yuri finishing her tea, and Monika offering up the other half of her unfinished croissant before turning her eyes back to her work. The unspoken agreement of company filled her heart with an easy warmth that she hadn't realized she'd been missing until that moment. It was nostalgic, in a way. Echoes of a time long passed.
As the morning progressed towards the afternoon, Monika refilled her coffee for a second time much to her companion's judgment, while Yuri refreshed her tea with hot water from one of the dispensers on the far wall. When the lunch rush began to pour in, Yuri stood. "Thank you for indulging me this morning."
Monika inclined her head with a smile. "I've enjoyed the company." She found that, as the words left her mouth, she truly meant it. "You still have an invite to the club, you know. I think you would fit right in."
For a moment, a strange look crossed Yuri's features that Monika couldn't place. Her eyes sparkled with a speculative glimmer as though she were reading some disconsolate subtext behind the words. The tall, elegant girl tangled a finger in a loose, silken strand of hair, bathed in the noon sun that streamed in through the cafe windows. "I'll take it into consideration," She replied, repeating the exact words she had said just two weeks prior.
And then, she was gone.