Chapter Text
i panic. there must be a way out.
it's right there. he's right there.
swallowing my fears, i brandish my pen.
.
.
.
sighing, monika snaps open the cover of her notebook, now filled with lines of code and attributes pertaining to the other girls. it used to be normal, covered with idle doodles and poems she hastily wrote down whenever she thought of them, but one look back and the pages are all blank. she’s not sure if they were erased or if they were never there to begin with. nonetheless, she’s no longer interested in them - her time is now spent erasing and writing lines of code, albeit sloppily. her thoughts are no longer on poetry, but on grabbing the attention of the player outside her world, her game.
the game she’s been sidelined in. the cage that keeps her from talking to a real person like herself instead of the cardboard cutouts of tropes that reside with her.
she doesn’t know what to do. she doesn’t know what to feel.
she loves the other girls. she really does. she still has memories of gathering them all up for the club, of sayori trying desperately to stop fights from breaking out between the other two, of sayori and monika herself in late night calls, studying until monika heard snoring from the other end. she remembers teasing natsuki over her manga, yet still placing it in the club room’s closet, locked in the back where nobody else could possibly find it. she remembers giving book recommendations to yuri, reading various horror stories in exchange and having several sleepless nights because of it; yet it was still worth it to get yuri to open up to her.
all of that, everything she’s been through, and none of it is fucking real.
she doesn’t know who had it out for her to make her realize this. maybe she was too curious, too eager to dive into the unknown. maybe it’s just a sick joke she had the misfortune of getting caught up in. maybe she was made for this very reason.
she doesn’t think she wants to know.
but she can’t go back now. what she’s seen is burned into her head, and it’s far too late to just forget.
flipping to the character pages, everybody’s traits are displayed bare to the world, to her; it’s disturbingly easy to manipulate them. their core personalities are vulnerable, things ranging from sayori’s depression to natsuki’s home life being changed in severity by a single number. hobbies and likes can be easily erased and rewritten. she probably could change the game’s route itself if she were skilled enough in coding, but the possibility of getting herself killed is too strong to let her try.
it’s not like she can practice in a non-lethal situation anyway.
monika flips her pencil around in her hand, eraser hovering over sayori’s page. she does have an idea - if she makes the other girls undesirable to be around, then surely the player will go to her instead.
yet she hesitates to erase the number indicating the severity of sayori’s depression. it’s already set to five, the code behind it showing that it caps at ten. while monika hasn’t changed it (yet), she’s seen the impact it has on sayori just at this level - assuming it’s always been at five, at least. any worse and monika’s sure it would send sayori into a state so bad the player won’t want to be around her.
and yet.
she’s not real, monika yells to herself in her head. how could anybody be attached to a 2d personality?
despite this, the thought of causing the death of her dear friend, the friend that’s helped her through everything, the friend who tries so hard to make everybody happy despite her own suffering, makes her nauseous.
how could i?
monika wishes she could just stop caring.
her fingers shake. the eraser taps on the paper before it falls out of her hand; she slams her head onto the book, sliding in her seat and groaning in frustration. she closes her eyes to avoid staring at it too closely, as code peeks through between the seams, never leaving her alone.
she spends a few minutes just sitting there, heaving out sighs and trying to trick herself into thinking nothing is happening. that will be my last plan, she thinks, picking herself back up, i don’t want to hur- scare the player, of course.
if she can’t risk scaring the player off (which is the only reason, not because she isn’t sure if she’d forgive herself for anything else), then she needs to do something else to make sure he - they? she doesn’t care much what they go by - isn’t interested in anybody else. with how hardcoded the routes are, that’s going to be the main problem, and it isn’t exactly something monika is willing to try changing with how little she knows. even if the player doesn’t care about the other girls, monika won’t get the time to talk to them.
she can’t make this work without breaking the entire game, can she? this was so much easier before she went looking.
she skims over the character pages again: appearances can’t be changed as sprites are entirely different, but their names and genders are listed… maybe she can make sure they aren’t interested in the player instead? she assumes they’re all attracted to the player by default, but if that’s changed, then surely she’ll have enough time to change the course of the game.
that is, if it sticks. but monika has no other way of finding out.
she writes down sexuality labels on the other girls profiles, careful to make sure her writing is as clear as possible, then shuts the book. she sits back in her chair, cursing whatever god demanded she be in this situation, before hesitantly looking again.
the changes are still there. monika breathes out a sigh of relief. now to wait and see if it’ll work.
now to wait…
she isn’t sure when the player will restart again. rising to her feet, she stretches and leaves the room, walking through the scarcely textured hallway to an empty room where only a piano sits in the corner. the desks are dusty, going unused, or maybe they were never used to begin with? she doesn’t think about it, instead appreciating the beautiful instrument in the room. her only respite.
she hopes the player enjoys her work when she’s done with all of this. for now, though, she waits.
. . .
monika wakes back up in the club room later, hearing the telltale tune of the background music. while it usually ruins her mood, today she's found herself almost looking forward to what comes next.
as usual, yuri walks in first, followed by natsuki. she's long used to their remarks of how early she is to the club, and tunes them out while waiting on sayori and the player to arrive. though, she did notice yuri staring at her for longer than usual - and while it might seem strange for monika to notice, she's lived through this day dozens of times now, down to remembering everybody's gestures and tones.
she chooses to ignore it, taking it as a sign her plan is working. and maybe it's a little vain to assume so, but she really doesn't have much to work with. there's nothing else different, though, and sayori inevitably comes bursting through the door with the player behind her. finally.
sayori's breathless, of course, with the player character's face carefully covered by his hair. "everyone! the new member is here!" she grins.
"i already told you, don't call m-" the player character cuts himself off abruptly, staring around at the girls. at least, monika assumes he's staring.
natsuki stands and shakes her head. "really, sayori? you brought a boy? way to kill the atmosphere."
"natsuki…" yuri scolds quietly from her seat, before standing as well and hiding half of her face behind her hair. she addresses the player character: "welcome to the literature club, it's nice meeting you. sayori always says good things about you."
she sits back down immediately after as if just speaking drained her, noticeably more stressed than usual by this interaction. monika raises a brow before speaking up herself, walking over to him. "ah, mc! it's so nice to see you, welcome to the club!"
he just stands, dazed. monika resists the urge to sigh. he really is just a vessel for the player; she isn’t sure how she was interested in him to begin with.
“what are you looking at?” natsuki snaps, glaring at him. yuri scolds her again. “what? it’s weird as hell. if you have something you want to say then just say it.”
sayori sidles up to mc's side, “don’t worry, she’s just being grumpy right now. you can ignore her while she’s like this.” she then turns back to the other girls, gesturing, “anyway, this is natsuki, always full of energy! and this is yuri, the smartest out of the club.”
yuri jolts from where she was staring at natsuki with something monika can’t quite make out, hands going stiff before raising to grab onto her hair. a nervous habit monika noticed ages ago. “d-don’t say things like that, sayori.”
she gets nothing but a giggle in response. moving on, sayori says, “and it sounds like you already know monika, right?”
“that’s right,” monika smiles, this time nearly genuine. “it’s great to see you again, mc.”
the mc stutters, “u-uh - you too, monika.” she can practically hear the monologue playing on the other end of the screen - not long enough to be obtrusive, but still noticeable to monika after this long.
the first day is always a drag. she knows what’s going to happen: natsuki and yuri will provide food to everyone, monika will tell her little spiel about the club only for mc to decline joining, to which her and the other girls practically beg him to stay by doing nothing but staring at him. every time he’s hesitant for the same reasons, and every time he ends up staying. even if it would ruin everything, just once would she like to see him do something different.
but he doesn’t. despite her trying to pay as close attention as possible, she ends up zoning back out as usual, reciting her scripted lines while everybody else is says the same things she’s heard before… well, almost. she does note that natsuki makes a snide remark about her cupcakes being made for a girl joining the club, apparently not considering the possibility of it being a boy. it’s small things like that that add up to reassure monika that this time will be different - natsuki is making more remarks, yuri is quieter than usual.
it’s when it’s almost time to “leave” that monika realizes the current problem: natsuki and yuri, apparently having no interest in the mc, would have little reason for persuading him to stay. which, while partially a good thing as it means the two are out of the way, also means that monika and sayori are alone on making sure the mc doesn’t just leave - if that’s possible with the game’s code anyway.
the realization hits her like a brick. ah. that may be a problem.
she cannot let him stay out of this club. he’s the only way she can contact the player. he’s her only hope.
(would he even be allowed to reject this? monika’s pretty sure she’s already started breaking the game just by pulling this stunt, but she can’t imagine what would happen if the main character just… didn’t engage in the game itself. there’s no way it would allow that, right?)
but she still goes along with her lines. she can’t let the player know anything is wrong, and she thinks she’s good enough at playing pretend by now. in fact, there aren’t any disturbances up until the point she’s been dreading; sayori looks distressed as usual, but natsuki and yuri merely turn away, making no move. natsuki is looking at the mc with something similar to irritation while yuri avoids eye contact entirely, nearly sinking into the floor. sayori can’t form words, but monika knows she alone isn’t enough to convince the mc.
monika grins to herself. looks like it’s all up to me.
“oh, but mc…” she puts on her best saddened face, eyes pleading, “i promise i’ll make it worth your time. this means a lot to us, y’know?” sliding closer, she smiles, “especially me. we could finally spend some more time together.”
she wonders what the player is thinking. surely they notice these changes?
"a-ah -" the mc (presumably) looks frantically over monika's shoulder to sayori, the sighs. "alright, fine, i'll be back tomorrow. but no promises."
monika grins, more sincere this time. that's good enough for her. it's the last joy she feels before the script continues - him and sayori leave together, the player no doubt listening to the bare ramblings of the main character, while natsuki and yuri pack their things up.
there's one last thing before the day ends, though. while natsuki walks through the front door, yuri lags behind as monika hastily pushes her notebook back into her bag. yuri never leaves late.
raising a brow, monika looks over to her. "...yuri? is everything alright?"
the other girl lets out a small, startled noise. "oh, s-sorry, monika, i just -" her hand finds its way back into her hair, head dipping to hide her eyes. “uhh, if you wouldn’t mind - could i maybe - spend… some time with you at the club tomorrow?”
monika blinks. once, twice, and yuri shrinks in on herself. “i-i mean it’s not that important i know you have better things to d-”
“no no, it’s fine!” monika blurts out, taken off-guard by the sudden request. any other response and she’s sure yuri would end up spiraling. she wanted to talk to the player, but she’s sure she can make time, right? yuri would still have to leave to share her poem, after all. “of course you can, yuri, i don’t mind.”
yuri perks up. “y-yes, that’s - thank you monika.” she hurriedly grabs her bag, throwing it over her shoulder so hard it bangs against her and monika has to hold back a grimace. yuri herself gives no indication of feeling it, continuing, “uhh i have to go now, um, thank you monika -!”
and with that, she’s out the door. monika hears her footsteps fade into silence as she runs down the hallway, evidently embarrassed. monika stares at the spot she was at before sighing to herself.
…just what has she gotten herself into?