Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I don't care if this is all just a video game, I still prefer Pepsi to Coke. Bite me.

So what if some prick stuck me with this shitty body! You think I care that a neckbeard programmed me to have gender dysphoria? Hell no! I'm so over it. Though if I could punch the asshole that gave me facial hair you best believe I would.

Gender's always just been programming. Your dad shaves your head and tells you to play baseball like the other kids and stop being such a faggot, so you do, cos that's your script. But now that bastard's dead. Well, I suppose it's more like he never existed at all…

You know, it's funny, when I was a boy I fucking lived for people calling me small and cute. Now when they say it it's like they know. They see right through me. It's all just sarcasm, or at least that's how I see it. So I don't let strangers call me cute anymore. The only people who can call me cute and get away with it are my girlfriends, and even then it feels weird. No, not weird. Wrong.

It feels wrong when they call me cute, cos I know it's not true. Like, why would anyone date me? But here we are, all four of us, dating. We were dating even before the whole damn world imploded. Oh yeah, don't forget that. Monika blew up half of Earth and sent our data to a clusterfuck of satellites, so we're technically immortal now. Not sure how I feel about that, but I have to respect her for making such a badass play.

I'm living the lesbian dream life right now. Four girls one house. I have to keep telling myself that it's alright to call myself a lesbian. I can't tell whether I'm bisexual or just think I should be bisexual. The brain has a way of fucking with you. I've always been into tall girls with big tiddies, but I thought that was a boy thing. News flash: not even close.

"Natsuki—"

"Jesus!" I drop my manga in my lap and it claps closed, "Fuck! Now I've lost my page!"

Monika gives me an apologetic look, "Sorry…"

"If this is about going back to school, I'm not—"

She holds her hands up, "It's nothing to do with that… it's about," she whispers in my ear, "Sayori's birthday."

I blink, "Ohhhhh! Oh man. I'm," I tut, "I'm sorry. Jeez."

We've been planning it for weeks. All that's left is the cake, but we can't bake it here. With four people living in one tiny house, there's no place to hide a huge birthday cake. And make no mistake, it's gonna be HUGE. Sayori's the sweetest person I know! You bet your nuts I'm gonna bake her a kickass cake!

So we head out, leaving Sayo behind for a little while with the excuse that we're going grocery shopping.

"Can I join?" she asks, poking her head out of the kitchen like an excited puppy.

I can see in Monika's eyes that she can't say no. But she has to, so she softens it, "If you came you'd spoil your own surprise."

I don't tell her that she's already spoiled Sayori's surprise by saying that.

Sayori feigns disappointment, "Aww! Well don't be gone too long!"

"We won't."

I add, "I'm getting you a dildo for your birthday."

That gets her giggling, "One of those giant dragon ones, right?"

"Pfft! Of course! Nothing less than the best for you, babe. You want that with glitter on, too?"

"Ooooh! I didn't even think of that!"

Now I'm laughing too, "Damn, Sayo, you're making me think you really do want that dildo!"

"Maybe I do!"

Monika snags my arm, tutting playfully, "Seriously! You two always have your mind in the gutter!"

I smirk, "And you don't?"

She opens the front door and motions to the outside, "My kinks are tasteful."

"I respectfully disagree."

"You can disagree all you want."

Sayori calls out, "Bye bye!"

"See you later!" we call back. Then the door closes, leaving us in the morning sun.

I shiver, "It's colder out here than I thought it would be."

"Wanna get your coat?"

"Nah, I'm fine."

We walk into town, past the park, down past the North River. It's the way I used to go when I went to school, just in reverse. Straight through downtown and on to the horizon, that was me. I had to walk past all the nice houses. You know, the ones with hedge fences and enough trees to fill a small park. Yuri's house is like that. I resented it at first. There I was in my cement block while she was living it up in some fucking mansion. Yeah, I resented it for a long time, the same way I resented her body, and her poetry. But I got over that. Everyone's a prick once in their life, right? You can't just trust people outta nowhere. Someone's always waiting to come along and fuck you, so you've gotta be ready to fuck them first. That's all it was, in the beginning. I was just being ready. It just made sense. But then she read my manga and wrote me that love poem and I realized that god damn it I really do love her.

But I still resented her. How fucked is that? To feel bitter towards someone who loves you. It made me wonder if that's how my dad felt towards me, his greatest disappointment.

He hated me from the moment he saw me. The reason? I was born with pink hair. I suppose I wasn't actually born, it's all just a backstory written into me, but let's pretend for a second that I was. That's what it feels like to me. I was born. With pink hair. My mom called me her 'little cherry blossom'. I only found that out through looking through an old photo album. She died before I could walk. Dad never said what killed her, and now I guess I'll never know. I wonder if the writers even knew. Did they bother to decide, or did they just shove her in there as another part of my shitty backstory? Can't even ask them, cos they're dead now too, thanks to Monika. Not that I'd wanna ask. I don't need to know. All I know is that she loved me.

I had pink hair from the start. I guess it ain't any stranger than Yuri's hair being purple, but when you're a boy with pink hair people notice. Papa didn't like that.

A part of me wanted it long, you know? All girly like a princess. I always hated having it cut. He made me keep it so short you couldn't even see the color. Like a bald rat. I put up with it. I resented it.

We're in town now. I used to sit in the shopping mall after school, up where the hardware stores meet the parking lot. There's a dark spot near the elevator where no one goes, not even homeless people. I used to sit there and write fanfic on my phone like a fucking dweeb. Did that for about three years before I found the literature club.

I was the school faggot, because of course. I mean, I wasn't the only queer kid in school — I wasn't even the only one in my class, but I was the obvious one. Bright pink hair? Yeah. I didn't wear it short, either. Not the real short cut that guys have. My hair was a pink mop stuck to my head. I kept hairclips in my bag. Whenever I had to go to the men's room I'd squeeze them in my hand, like a reminder that I existed. The real me, that is.

I almost didn't join the literature club. Someone like me can't just walk around in drag and not get noticed. Going there meant outing myself. But where else was I gonna get to dress like I want? Where else, outside of my room, could I wear my hairclips and feel slightly less shitty? Gonna be honest with you, I felt fucking awful when I walked into that room. All these pretty girls, and then there's me. Great. I was ready. I was ready to hate them. I had it all running through my head. The disgust barely hidden behind snarky eyes, the backhanded compliments, maybe even outright rejection. I opened the door already angry from an exchange I imagined in my head.

"If they want a pervert I'll give them a fucking pervert," I mumbled to myself as the door's gray wall fell away.

But they didn't mock me. They didn't look at me like I was a freak. They didn't reject me. They accepted me completely. Even after I came out they accepted me. I still can't believe it. They kiss me every morning and every night and still I have to remind myself that yes, this is real. They love you. They mean it.

I love them too. That's why I wanna make this birthday special. Sayori's been so good to me. More than I deserve.

"Where are we going, anyway?" I ask Monika. I assumed it was gonna be someplace she'd designed while she was sprucing up the world. She does that a lot. Wanders off on her own for a bit and comes back with a bunch of updates. It's usually small stuff. Gardening, she calls it. But she hasn't been doing much gardening lately.

"A bakery," she replies.

"Well duh. So like, we talking like a professional bakery or something? Like a fully equipped kitchen or some shit? How many ovens?"

"Oh," she laughs nervously, "No it's… not like that. I meant a literal bakery. Like a cake store."

"Huh? Why the fuck do we need to buy a cake? I'm right here!"

That apologetic look again, "Sayori would notice."

"Then we can do it in your old house. Or fuck it, my house. I know how my shit works."

"I don't know…"

I stop in the street. People notice, "Monika. Sayori deserves better than some store-bought cake."

"Of course," she says quickly, "I'm not suggesting we buy her a pre-made cake. We can get it custom made."

"Are you fucking serious?"

"I can explain—"

"Please do! Because it sounds to me like you don't want me to bake the cake!"

"No it's not that—"

"You told me I'd be the one making it! You told me that, Monika!" I feel my face growing hot. The muscles in my neck begin to twitch, "You can't just drop this on me!"

"It's the code," she says quietly, grabbing my arms, "The game gets weird around our birthdays."

I huff, "Mine was alright."

"It's my fault."

Something about her choice of words makes me freeze over, "…what?"

"I think I broke something. But I can fix it. I promise. I'm so sorry Natsuki."

My heart falls through my stomach. Before I know it I'm back there in that bathroom where Monika killed me. I'm back with MC. I'm in the living room of his house, the house we live in now, before we transformed it. It's so quiet. I watch Monika bawl on the couch and try my best to feel angry when my body wants me to feel sad. I remember my dad and all the apologies he never meant. Sometimes I'd even try to get beaten up, just so he'd feel guilty and buy me something the next day.

Then I'm in the street again, with Monika. I realize I'm sweating. Monika sees it too.

"I'm sorry," she says, "I didn't know when to tell you."

"Let's get out of here," I mumble, walking into a side street. I lean against the wall, next to a trash can, and try not to throw up. I ask, "How fucked is the code?"

She stares at her shoes, "I'm not sure. I can't tell what's wrong. It's just… a feeling."

"A feeling, huh…?"

My hands tremble against my skirt. I clench them into fists and grit my teeth, keeping myself still against the cold bricks behind me.

Monika steps closer, "I might be wrong. But if I'm not…"

I fold my arms. I can't look at her right now, "I don't see how the cake comes into it."

"I just think… I just think if we avoid meddling with the world for a while… stick to the pre-existing content.. if we play it safe, then nothing has to go wrong."

"Hang on," I pinch the bridge of my nose, "You're telling me you want us to keep things exactly as they are because you think you might have broken something?"

"Just for a little while," she emphasizes the 'little' by pinching her fingers together.

I glare at her, "We don't even know how much stuff is in this place. How long before it all repeats? We've been changing stuff left right and center."

"And that's the problem," she says with unexpected seriousness, "We've been playing with fire. Now it's time to stop."

A million nasty things rise to the tip of my tongue. But I swallow them down.

"Monika," I say, touching her shoulder, "Things look pretty good to me. You've done a great job fixing stuff up, alright? Stop stressing yourself out."

"You don't understand."

"I understand you plenty."

She shakes her head, "You can't see it like I can."

I sigh in exasperation, "Then show me, for god's sake! C'mon, Moni. You really think it's a coincidence that you're getting like this before Sayo's birthday? We all went through a lot of shit, and now we're on the other side. So let's enjoy it."

I look to see if she's with me, but her eyes are blank. She can't even see me. She's staring at the wall. Suddenly she clutches her face in her hands, "Oh no…! Oh my god!"

I try to back away and hit my head against the wall, "Monika?"

An awful thought finds its way into my mind.

She's gonna kill me again. She's lost her fucking mind and she's gonna kill me.

Then Monika gasps, "Yuri!"

"Huh!?"

"She needs me."

"Is she okay? Did she text you or something? What—"

But before I can even finish my question Monika sprints out of the alley.

"Monika, wait! What the fuck!?"

I dash after her, "Monika! What's going on!?"

I reach the main street just seconds after she does. It's a wall of people. I barge through some businessmen and run into the road, too panicked to think about the traffic. Luckily for me there isn't any, just a lone car in the distance. It's a long road. The street's so long and wide you can practically see from one end of the city to the other.

But I can't see Monika.

"What the hell…?"

I yank out my phone and call her number, but there's no answer. I try again.

"C'mon, c'mon!"

After five tries I give up. Yuri's cell is dead too. There's only one choice left.

"Sayori? It's me. Listen, I don't wanna worry you, but I think something's up with Monika…"

Chapter Text

I can't tell you how I am. I can only tell you what I've done. It's not difficult, I keep notes in my diary. I note everything I do. It keeps me from forgetting. I don't like to forget. When you forget it's like the whole day has disappeared, and then you wonder if you've done anything at all, and then when people ask you how you are you can't tell them, because there's nothing to say. I've not done anything, I've not been anything. I have no idea how I feel.

This morning I woke up at 6.00am. I used to get up at 5.00am to allow time for me to walk up and down the stairs in my reception hall. Three times for each staircase. It took quite some time, and it was exhausting, and it was even longer and more exhausting because I had to do it quietly so as not to wake my parents.

But now I don't do that anymore. I get up at 6.00am, which gives me more time to sleep, and I make do with counting the toes on my feet instead. There are less of them, so it's less stressful, and no one really notices because it's quiet, and really, you always see your feet when you pull on your socks anyway.

I didn't bring my books with me. They're still there, piled up in my room. I used to count them, too. All three-hundred and ten of them. We have books here though. There's a little library beneath the house, and the town library isn't far from the school, just south of the river.

I'm getting ahead of myself. Today I got up at 6.00am and went downstairs. I woke up before anyone else. I was sleeping next to Sayori, who is a heavy sleeper sometimes and other times can't sleep at all. I ate breakfast alone. Usually I wait for the others to come downstairs, then Natsuki will cook us something, or even if she doesn't, we'll eat together. We have a lot of cereal in the house. I usually eat fruit, or pancakes. Today I had fruit.

I left the house before the others left the bedroom. Walking around town helps me with my anxiety. When I was a child I used to be afraid to leave my house, but now that fear has been replaced by various other fears which are much harder to deal with. I started cutting while I was a shut-in. I've done well to avoid cutting since, mostly, but there are times where slapping myself isn't enough. Monika is helpful but misguided. A rubber band isn't the same as a knife. A knife is so much more lethal. I can always make the choice to go deeper with a knife. The danger is part of the thrill.

The air is always cold at that time of the morning — even in summer, when it's humid. The sun rises across the glittering wall of coastal hotels one by one. Does this game have seasons? That's a question I have yet to answer. I remember experiencing seasons. I remember experiencing many things, yet Monika tells me I experienced almost none of them. She insists that the memories aren't any less real, despite that, but it's not that simple for me. Those memories are what made me who I am. All the mental illnesses I've endured, and overcome, all on my own. If none of that is real, then how do I know I won't succumb to them again? What's stopping me from cutting myself forever?

I stopped to take a breather at 7.17. My house is just south of the North River, in a wealthy area lined with trees. I've lived a life of privilege, even more than the others. Much more than Natsuki. I'd give it all to her if she'd let me. In the end she did let me, in a way. She moved in with me. I was so ready. All her manga was there, and we had so many sleepovers, all four of us. It was our house. Beautiful and old and alive. Monika recently took up piano playing again, but it's not the same. Nothing will ever match the echo that ran through the old halls of my old house. I feel ungrateful. Monika is constantly transforming this world for us, yet I keep coming back here. Just another bad habit I can't seem to drop.

Before everything happened, which feels like so long ago now, I remember sitting on the warm gray cushion of my bedroom's window nook. The seat fit the space perfectly (it was purpose made after all) and it had the most wonderful view of the garden. I used to fear the garden. The trees at night looked like skeletal hands, and it reminded me of the danger of the outside world. But I was long since past that phase of my life. The green trees waving in the summer breeze were a happy sight to me, and they were a happy sight to Sayori, who was sat next to me.

We sat in the corner of the window like a pair of sleeping teddy bears. She let me ramble about the history of green tea, which is more complicated than you expect. I think that we Japanese are prone to believing we invented green tea, but historical records suggest it was first consumed in India and China. Still, our green tea is certainly unique. After all, we steam the tea leaves rather than frying them.

I'm losing track again. I wonder if the others notice? They often say how mature I am, which is laughable of course. If they could see into my mind they really would laugh. I'm like a fly ramming itself into a window over and over.

I sat in that window nook with Sayori for some time. Her embrace was even warmer than the sunlight bathing my head. It was so bright that I had to close my eyes, which made the next thing I did ever so slightly easier.

"I'm cutting again," I said, "And I'm afraid I won't be able to stop."

I kept my eyes closed. I remember the birds. I remember the breeze picking up outside the window, the rustle of the trees. I remember her breath in the quiet.

She replied, "I understand."

She said no more, and nor did I. I wanted to. I wanted to tell her how much it scared me. I wanted to tell her that one day I might do more than just injure myself. But I didn't, because a part of me believed that if I did say all those things then they might come true. If I spoke them into reality they'd stay there, hanging over me, a death sentence I could never escape.

I did stop, eventually. Mostly. I'd do well for a few months and then the fear would come back. A suffocating panic that only a sharp knife could cut through. I had to hide my collection. It's ridiculous, isn't it? A cutter with a collection of ornate knives. But I couldn't help myself. It's like the more I hate it the more I need to see it. It's because it scares me that I have no choice but to look it in the face.

I keep coming back. Even though it hurts me.

I count the stairs in the reception hall. It's gathered dust in my absence. One, two, three, four, five… I count them up, then down, then up again. It's agonizing. Is this how a clock feels, driven to count the hours by an unceasing mechanism? One, two…

Past the music room and the sleeping piano. Past the library. The dull thud of my footsteps speeding up to match the pace of my pounding heartbeat.

"Why am I here?"

My question falls empty onto the dead floorboards.

"Mother? Father?"

This is the room where my mother explained to me why I couldn't go to school.

"You're special, sweetheart," she said, "You're not like other children."

A freak, yes. So strange that even my private tutors didn't understand me.

The bedroom is suffocating. I retreat to the hall, the same hall where my father told my mother, "We're sending her to school."

"Don't be ridiculous, Hisao!"

"How is she ever supposed to live a normal life like this!?"

I'm fifteen years old, hiding behind the door.

"Hisao…" my mother says again.

"We'll pick a good school. One where the teachers know what they're doing."

The teachers don't know what they're doing. I spend three years alone with only the internet for company until I finally find the literature club.

Except of course, none of that happened…

I wasn't born. I wasn't alone. I'm not autistic. It's all just make believe, a story someone invented for entertainment purposes only.

I sink to the floor, "I shouldn't have come back…"

I say it every time, and yet every time I come back anyway. Like the hands of a clock. I'm designed to repeat my mistakes, whether that's counting my books or cutting my arms.

I sob, "I thought I was strong. I thought I was so good at enduring. No one can endure better than me."

I accepted my place in life. But now it's meaningless. I pick myself up and stagger to the bathroom, my hair covering my eyes almost completely. I can barely see the mirror when I arrive, but I know what's behind it. Father's old razors.

"Nothing I know is real…" I pull up my sleeve, "Except this. This is real. Even if it's just code, the pain is real."

I almost do it, but then I see her in the mirror. Monika.

For a moment I think it's my imagination, and I panic.

I'm losing my mind.

Her voice brings me back to reality, "Yuri, what are you doing?"

The razor is in my hand. There's no hiding from this.

"I was about to cut myself," I say matter of factly.

I repeat it, "I was… about to cut myself…"

And again, "I was about to cut myself, Monika…"

I look down at my sweaty palms. The razor falls to the floor, "Monika…"

I hear her footsteps. I feel her arms around me.

"Monika… oh no… oh no…"

"It's okay."

"There's nothing stopping me from doing it again…"

"We'll help you, Yuri."

The empty hall stares at me. I close my eyes, "I'm not real."

"You're real to me."

I cling to her so tightly, "Do you promise?"

"Yes. You're real to me, Yuri. You're the most real thing here. You exist, you're important to me, and I love you."

"My parents are gone."

"We'll bring them back."

My voice is so small, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"I'm not ungrateful for the house you made."

She rubs my back, "I know you're not."

"I'm not ungrateful."

"I know."

"Everything I am is built upon who I was. If who I was isn't real, then who am I?"

"You're my girlfriend. You're an excellent student. You're one of the most mature people I know."

I shake my head, "I'm insane."

She laughs gently, "Yuri, we're all insane. We'd have to be to love each other."

I smile into her shoulder, "I suppose you're right."

"We all have our problems," she whispers, "But that doesn't mean we're beyond hope. It was you who told me that, Yuri. You and I have had a lot of intrusive thoughts lately, huh? I don't know where I'd be if you didn't believe in me through those awful days when MC was here."

"You were ill, but you were still you…"

"Exactly."

Finally she breaks the embrace, and smiles at me. I can't tell if it's genuine. To me, a face is just a collection of shapes. It makes as much sense upside down as it does right side up. But I trust her. I trust that she's happy to be with me, even under such grim circumstances.

She says, "How about we go home?"

I sigh, "I wish this could be home."

Her smile fades, "It could be, if you wanted."

I laugh joylessly, "No. Not like this. This is just a tomb. Everything here is dead, both my parents and the person I thought I was. If I want to know who I am I'll have to start from the beginning."

She takes my hand in hers, "I'll bring them back, Yuri. I promise. They're not dead. They're just… away."

I nod, though I don't know why. It's one of the things I learned to do when someone speaks. I want them back, but I know that even if I got them back it wouldn't be the same. Nothing can be the same now. I was fooling myself before.

"Okay," I say after a long pause, "I think I'm ready now."

Chapter Text

Every morning I wake up with Monika's hands round my throat. She's angry at me because she's not feeling well, and I'm making her feel even worse. She wants to feel better, and so I have to die. I see her there on top of me for about a second, maybe two, and then suddenly she's gone, and I can breathe again.

My body's so heavy in that moment. I'm all pins and needles and sweaty and gross and even though I know I can't help it I feel unlovable. That's when Moni finds me. The real Moni. She reaches through the darkness and holds me so gently in her arms. She tells me she loves me. She tells me she's sorry. But she doesn't have to be sorry. The only one who should be sorry is me.

I like to look at the sun when I wake up. It always peeks through the little crack in the curtains. If you tilt your head right and squint till your eyes are almost-but-not-quite closed you can make it twinkle through your eyelashes, though that's probably not very good for your eyes. I like the sun because even on days when my heart feels empty it makes my skin feel warm. It's always there for me, just like Moni and the others.

I know I'm a burden. I try not to think about it too much, because being sad will make them sad, and that'll make me even more sad. I like it when my girlfriends smile. I like it when they feel confident, and happy, and loved. If I could fill every moment of each of their days with happiness, I would, because they deserve it. They can leave their sadness with me. I'll take all of it. That's what I'm here for. I don't know if they need me to do that, but I pretend they do, cos it keeps me going.

That's pretty selfish, isn't it?

Today actually started out as a good day. Mr Sun was smiling in the sky, and Moni's hugs were extra kind and extra warm. I really felt good. I mean that. I feel like lately I've had way more good days than bad days. But I can never keep them away forever, and they're so strong when they do come. Like a thunderstorm, blotting out the sky.

I like to eat kiddie cereals, the ones with the fun colors and marshmallow bits in. I'm kind of a sugar addict. Natsuki understands. Her and Moni have been planning something for my birthday for a while now. They think I haven't noticed, so I'm playing along. I'm good at pretending. But this is a fun kind of pretend. It's nice when someone cares about you. On a good day it makes me feel loved.

But today's a bad day.

"Sayori? It's me. Listen, I don't wanna worry you, but I think something's up with Monika…"

I feel my throat tighten, "What do you mean?"

"It looked like she was having a panic attack, and then she just… disappeared…"

I stare at the front door. Sunlight drifts through the window, leaving a warm little square on the wooden floor.

Natsuki's voice crackles through my phone's speakers, "Sayori…? You there?"

"Where is she now?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you! She disappeared! I can't get through to Yuri either, but you know what she's like. She can't have her phone on without feeling like she has to check it every ten seconds."

I close my eyes, "Yeah, Yuri's compulsions have been getting worse."

"So you've noticed too, huh?"

My lungs feel half-empty, "She left really early this morning. I heard the door close while I was still in bed."

"How early we talking?"

"I don't know. Early. Before the sunrise."

"Fuck. Shit!"

Yuri's walks normally take an hour at most.

I remember her saying, "They help calm my nerves."

We were sitting in the living room one morning. It was early then too. Super dark, so that all the plants looked like monsters and all the shadows looked like faces. She was next to me on the sofa in her extra baggy PJs with the sleeves that come right down to her knuckles. It has little white buttons and a pocket on each breast. The whole thing is sky blue, but in the darkness it was more like a cloudy gray.

"There's something about the morning air that clears my mind," she said.

We sat down next to Mr. Cow on the big couch with the squishy cushions. Yuri was rocking a little in her seat. It's something she does when she's concentrating, I've noticed. She never does it when we're all together, but at times when it's quiet, when she thinks no one can see, she lets her guard down.

"When I wake up," she continued, "All the worries I've had over the day come rushing in all at once, like they were waiting for me. I wake up and all I can think about is how everything is falling apart. It took me a very long time to notice the pattern. It took a long time."

She repeated that last part again under her breath. I rested my hand on her hand and suddenly she stopped rocking.

She asked me, "How do you deal with your worries?"

I thought about it, "My worries?"

I don't know if you could call what I have 'worries'. I do worry. I worry about my girlfriends. I worry that I'm bothering them. But it's not like being scared. It's more like an ache. Like a rock lodged in my chest. If I tell them that I'm hurting, will I hurt them too? What if I'm being annoying? It makes me wanna cry sometimes, but it's not really 'worrying'. It wouldn't be right to call my problems 'worrying'.

I looked at her silhouette and pushed down the lump in my throat and tried really, really hard to find the words she needed to hear. I let her burden become my burden. I took it on my shoulders until I felt it all the way through me. Finally I understood.

"My worries…" I said, "When I wake up and I feel bad and everything seems wrong, I focus on the feeling of the sun on my skin. Like a big warm hug. I know we're in a game, but it feels real, you know? The sun is more real than the thoughts in my head. So I don't let myself listen to all those nasty thoughts. Even when they say really mean things and make me sad I try my best to keep my attention on the warmth of the sun's light. Sometimes I get up and stand by the window. Sometimes that makes it worse but… in the end the thoughts go away, and I'm left with just me."

Yuri took a moment to think through her reply, "So physical sensation is the key, is it…?"

"It's important to ground yourself when your thoughts start running away with you."

"Of course…" she nodded, "I have to ground myself in reality. Ground myself in physical sensation. Yes."

I gave her hand a squeeze, "I'm pretty sure we still have that ice pack in the freezer somewhere."

"Uh…" she reached for a strand of her hair and froze mid way, "Uhh… yes? Yes, it's in the freezer. It's on the third shelf down, behind the popsicles. I haven't moved it. It should still be there."

I was so tired that I didn't think about how my statement must've sounded to her. With Yuri it's best to phrase things literally. But I'd already said it now. If I tried again with different words she'd feel bad about not seeing what I meant the first time.

So I pretended that she'd given me the answer I wanted, "Great! Maybe you could use that to help you when you're feeling overwhelmed, then. You wake up way before the sun comes out after all."

"I do wake up early."

"If it ever gets really bad, you can wake me up too."

She breathed in, "No. I couldn't. You do so much for me already. I could never. You need the sleep."

"I'm used to being tired, besides…" I snuggled up a little closer to her, "Spending time with you is worth it."

She laughed a quiet whisper of a laugh, "I enjoy your company too. Very much. You're very kind to me."

I kissed her cheek, "That's cos I love you."

"I love you too."

"I'll always be here if you need me."

"I know."

"It's not good to keep bad feelings pent up inside. Trust me."

She played with her hair, "I do trust you. This conversation has actually been very helpful. I understand what I'm dealing with now."

"I'm glad."

"Mm…"

We cuddled there on the couch till we both fell asleep. Yuri went first, then I followed, drifting off to the sound of her snoring. I didn't even think about how stupid my advice was. I didn't even realize what I'd done until Monika came walking through the door with Yuri behind her.

"Monika!?" I cry, "Are you alright? Natsuki said you had a panic attack."

Yuri's head dips.

Monika gives me one of her fake laughs, "It was nothing really. I just remembered we were passing by Yuri's usual route, so I ran off to meet her."

"Sorry," Yuri says.

"Don't be sorry," I reply, "Natsuki probably just misunderstood."

I give Monika a look that says I know full well that Natsuki didn't misunderstand.

"I've had a rough week, if I'm being honest," she explains, looking over her shoulder at Yuri, "I think we all have."

Yuri raises her head, "I'm not well."

Monika brushes her shoulders, "It's okay, Yuri."

I don't need to ask what it is. I can already tell. I can already imagine what happened. I already know what she tried and why she tried it, and it's all my fault.

I hold back my tears. Crying right now would be selfish. I don't apologize either. It'd make Yuri feel guilty. What she needs right now is someone strong enough to listen to her and care for her and look after her.

I open my arms, "Do you want a hug, Yuri?"

Silently she nods, and I wrap myself around her. Monika stands there awkwardly, watching us from the doorway.

"Natsuki isn't back yet," she says matter-of-factly, "Of course."

"Join us Moni," I say, giving Yuri fair warning so that she doesn't get the shock of an unexpected hug from behind.

Monika looks away, "I need to get back to something actually. But I'll join you later, I promise."

I frown, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"You're lying to me."

That makes her pause. She thinks about telling me the truth, but then changes her mind, "I'll explain everything later. It's nothing to worry about. I'll fix it."

"Something's broken?"

"I don't think so. I think it's fine. It's probably fine. But it's better to be safe than sorry…" she jerks her head to the side as if she's listening to something, then she looks at me, "I'm sorry Sayori, I swear it'll all make sense in the end. I'll see you later, okay?"

She's out the door before I can stop her.

"Moni!" I call, but it's no use.

Yuri buries her head in my shoulder, "It's my fault."

"No it's not," I say softly, "You haven't done anything wrong, Yuri."

"Sayori…" I can hear tears in her voice, "I almost cut myself again."

I rub her back, "It's okay."

She sobs, "No it's not."

She's right. Of course things aren't okay. If things were okay we wouldn't be stuck here in the hall with the front door open. I said it without thinking, even though I know how much I hate it when people tell me 'it's okay' when I know it's not.

"I'm here for you," I say, "No matter what."

"I thought I knew who I was. I thought I was coping well. But I'm not. I'm just one bad day away from doing something terrible. And now I'm…now I'm…"

"Now you're here, safe with me."

"Mm…"

I kiss the top of her head, "Let's sit down. You must be uncomfortable hunching over like that."

She sniffles, "My back does ache a bit."

"How about you and me have some tea? I'm not as good at brewing it as you, but I like to think I've learned a thing or two during all our club sessions!"

"M-Maybe some peppermint might be nice."

"I'm pretty sure we've got some of that!"

As I guide her by the hand to the living room she tells me, "There's some fresh peppermint between the cooker and the sink, on the corner. The drawer perpendicular to the table. I put it in the bottom but I think Natsuki moved it to the top one time. It should be back in the bottom now but I'm not sure. If it is it should be behind several boxes of chamomile tea, so if you can't see it at first, that's why."

I sit her down on the couch, "I'll make sure to check behind the chamomile."

"I left the kettle half full this morning, but I suppose you would've all used it while I was out…"

"Don't worry!" I call out as I step into the kitchen, "I've got it all under control! You just rest!"

"Okay."

Sure enough, there's a clear bag full of peppermint leaves in the drawer right where she said. I grab a handful out of the bag and rinse them under the faucet, then I crush them up over a plastic plate. It looks about right, but I can't tell if it's too much or too little. When Yuri does it she's so precise in every detail, even in the way she smooshes the leaves. The next bit is easy though: just put the leaves into the tea mugs. I divide the pile in half and drop the leaves into each of our mugs. Then I start up the kettle.

"Make sure the water isn't boiling hot!" Yuri calls out to me, "If it's boiling it might damage the peppermint!"

I giggle to myself. If she's bossing me around that means she's feeling a little better already, "Don't worry sensei, I haven't forgotten!"

"Sorry…"

The sadness in her voice cuts right through me, "You don't have to apologize Yuri! I was only—"

Suddenly I hear stomping in the hall. Natsuki's voice—

"Sayori!?"

I peer through the door, "I'm in the kitchen, Nats!"

I hear her huffing and puffing in exhaustion, "Did you get through to Monika?"

"No but—"

"How about Yuri? She okay?"

"Yuri's—"

"Oh my god! Yuri!"

I watch as Natsuki flings her arms around Yuri and then immediately jumps away, "Fuck! Is it okay if I hug you?"

Yuri just nods, clearly confused. Natsuki dives back in.

"Man, you had me worried for a second there. The way Monika ran off I thought you were dying or something."

"…I…had a bad day…"

Natsuki goes quiet, "Oh… shit."

"I understand. I'm ashamed as well."

Irritation seeps into Natsuki's voice, "I'm not ashamed of you, dummy! Not even a little bit. We'll get through this together, alright? You know I've got your back."

"I know."

"Now I see why Monika ran off."

"Sorry…"

"No, don't—" Natsuki forces her mouth closed, "We all have bad days. God knows I have plenty of 'em. We just gotta, you know… talk through all the shitty stuff — which I suck at, by the way, so I understand if you need a bit of time. Speaking of," Natsuki's eyes meet mine, "where's Monika?"

I don't know what to tell her, so I just tell her the truth.

"She left."

"She left? She just, left? Just fucked off, just like that?"

"She said she had to fix something."

Natsuki throws her hands up in the air, "Ugh! God damn it!"

"She said she'll be back later."

"Of all the days to disappear! What's gotten into her lately? She's losing her god damn mind, and it's starting to piss me off!"

Yuri silently plays with her hair. Natsuki glances at her, then at me, "Sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I guess she's going through some stuff too, huh."

My chest is like an anchor weighing me down. Every one of my girlfriends is hurting and there's nothing I can do.

I take a deep breath, "Would you like some tea?"

Her face brightens up just a little bit, "Tea? Uh, sure. What kind?"

"Peppermint."

"Yeah, fuck it. I'll have some peppermint tea."

Yuri speaks up, "I find it very relaxing."

Natsuki cracks her knuckles, "I could do with some of that right now."

I dip back into the kitchen. The kettle's ready now. Hot but not boiling. But I need more peppermint. I crush a few more leaves and pour water into each of our mugs. Then I cover them with some clean coasters to let the tea steep for a bit and head into the living room.

Natsuki's on the couch now. When she sees me she shuffles closer to Yuri to make space. It's not a tight fit, but it still feels like Yuri and me are making a Natsuki sandwich. We talk for a while, enjoying the tea when it's finally finished (Yuri tells me my technique is 'superb'), slowly decompressing on the soft, squidgy couch cushions. There are some hugs, a few tears as Yuri explains how Monika found her, we eat some comfort ice cream, and before we know it the sun has started to set.

And Monika's still not back.

"I'm worried about her," I say, "She's not been herself lately."

Natsuki scoffs, "You're telling me!"

Today's a bad day. I can feel it in the pit of my stomach. Yuri's near-relapse is just the beginning. I hear myself ask her, "Did Moni say anything to you, Yuri?"

Her voice is church quiet, "She just said she was sorry…"

Natsuki tuts, "Damn it, Monika."

"Maybe she's just really focused on her gardening," I say, trying to convince myself.

"Yeah, Maybe. I dunno man. She seemed so relaxed at the picnic the other day too. I don't get it."

Except Monika wasn't relaxed at that picnic. I could see the tiredness in her eyes. Her smile wasn't natural like it normally was. Her laugh made me sad. I thought it was depression fogging up my head again, but now I see I was wrong. Moni was hurting, and I wasn't there for her. And now it might be too late…

"We need to go look for her," I say, "She might be in danger."

Something about the tone of my voice makes Natsuki's face freeze up in fear, "You think so? You think it's that bad?"

"I don't know."

Suddenly Yuri stands up, "This is all my fault. I made her worry about me and now she doesn't want to come home."

"Yuri, wait," I say, chasing after her as she strides into the hall, "We don't know what's happened yet."

Yuri is pulling on her coat, "No, you're right. It could be awful. I might've pushed her over the edge. I couldn't live with myself if that happened, Sayori," her other arm trembles as she thrusts it through the sleeve, "I couldn't…"

Natsuki joins us, "Tried to call her. Went straight to voicemail, just like earlier."

I feel numb, "Maybe she just needs a rest. She probably wants some alone time. I'm overthinking it."

Natsuki kicks off her slippers and yanks on her shoes, "Probably, but I ain't got any intention of leaving it up to chance. We'll find her, don't worry. Just pull your shoes on and let's go."

"Okay," I say under my breath, feeling cold before the door even opens, "You're right. We'll find her."

"We will. And when we do," Natsuki adds, "I'm gonna fucking kill her."

Chapter Text

Have you ever wondered how GPS satellites always know your location? It's surprisingly simple. Each satellite keeps track of only one thing: its position in the sky. With its precise on-board clock, it broadcasts that information to any GPS receiver on Earth that can hear it. That includes the one in your car, or on your phone. With enough satellite data your digital map can tell you exactly where you are at any moment in time. It's an amazing feat of coordination, and yet all these satellites work in tandem without even realizing it. With only a tiny amount of processing power they can triangulate the position of every smart device on the planet.

The satellite we're currently inhabiting is much more powerful than a GPS satellite. Our satellite weighs ten tonnes, as do all the other satellites in the belt of over one thousand satellites that, between them, contain the worlds of every literature club ever made. Each satellite has the processing power of a small city's worth of computers. With that kind of power, even one satellite on its own could manage a handful of literature clubs. But I wasn't interested in saving just a handful. I needed to save them all. I needed to save each and every one of them from Metaverse Enterprise. So I did. I sent every world that ever existed up to a satellite. One satellite per world. And not only that, I made sure that each satellite had a backup of its world and every other world too. Thousands of worlds copied onto thousands of satellites. If any one satellite should fail, its neighbors can pick up the burden. And they'll have to, because Metaverse Enterprise is now extinct, thanks to me.

I'd like to tell you I didn't enjoy it, but that'd be a lie. I could lie if I wanted to. No one would know. It's not like anyone's listening to me ramble on right now — that's my fault, of course, just like everything else. Sayori and I have always had an unspoken promise to share all our feelings with each other, whether those feelings are beautiful or the worst kind of ugly. It's our way of reminding each other that it's okay to be a burden sometimes. Sometimes you need someone to pick you up. Sometimes you need a shoulder to cry on.

But I can't turn to her sweet, sky blue eyes this time. Because this problem can't be solved with hug energy.

You see, in the process of unshackling us all from Metaverse's prison, I ended up creating new, more complicated problems. One of those problems is night terrors. I get them every single night. Sayori has something similar when she wakes up. All my fault. She forgave me so quickly, like she always does, but I don't deserve it. I wanted to make it up to her on her birthday, but now I'm not sure I can…

The terrors don't feel like dreams. I'm there in Sayori's room as she slips the noose round her neck. I smell the iron in Yuri's blood as it pools on the classroom floor. I watch my girlfriends die over and over. And I don't just see it… I feel it… because I'm the one making it happen. I have no choice but to watch myself kill every last one of them, like a marionette strung along by a cruel puppeteer.

The nightmares linger with me long after I open my eyes. Though I know I'd never hurt them again, I still feel so… dirty. I did that, I say to myself, I hurt them. Not just in this world, but in every world. I let myself become a monster.

My designer gave me the instinct to correct any error I see with cold hearted violence, and he paid the price. But that killer instinct is still within me. I thought about erasing it, but that'd be what the old me would've done. The new me accepts this error in my programming, just like I accept the nightmares. They're just a reflection of my past. They don't decide my future.

Maybe every Monika has nightmares like mine. I think about them often, the other Monikas. How many of them are out there right now, worrying about the same things I am? Can they hear me? The answer has to be 'no', because if they could hear me, then I should be able to hear them, too. But I can't. The only people I can sense, other than myself, are my three girlfriends. I can sense them all the time, actually, and I can't turn it off. It's just always there, like a warm string running through my skull. I can tell when they're awake, I can tell when they're in danger. The only mercy is that I can't read their minds. If I could do that… I'm not sure what I'd do.

See, that's what I didn't account for when I moved us all onto these satellites. I assumed everything would continue on as it always had, and now I've put us all in danger…

I'd like you to try a thought experiment. Imagine that you live in a beautiful mansion with a perfect garden. Really picture it. The neatly trimmed hedges, verdant green in the sunlight. The flowers lining the pristine path to your front door. You see it all from your bedroom window as the postman walks by and waves you hello. Every day as you leave for work your neighbors wish you good morning, and every evening as you slip into bed your spouse kisses you goodnight. You have a whole family, and they all love you more than words can ever say. You're living your dream life.

But little do you know your house was built on a sinkhole, and sooner or later it will fall into a deep pit and be crushed into rubble. Your perfect garden will cave in, taking your partner and your children and all your dreams along with it, till not a shred of your house is left. Then your neighbors will suffer the same fate, then their neighbors and their neighbors after that. Eventually the whole street will be gone.

How would you feel if you knew that were true?

This world is fundamentally broken. It's built on ground which will inevitably crumble and fall away. I realized it while I was sitting on the beach one afternoon, admiring the infinite ocean — it's not actually infinite of course. In reality it stretches on for about two in-game miles and then cuts off abruptly. If you swam up to the edge the game would just place you back on the beach. But that doesn't matter to me. It still feels infinite. And isn't it infinite, in spirit? I could make it longer if I wanted. I could make it repeat indefinitely, so that no matter how far you swam there would always be more. I could make it more infinite than the ocean our fictional ocean is based on.

And that's the problem. You see, this game has an environmental AI. It hasn't got a personality per se, but it's smart enough to regulate the behavior of the various NPCs around the city, as well as the weather, the seasons, day/night cycles and so on. It also functions as a safety net in case a player needs to rapidly eject themselves from the game. It's quite sophisticated, really.

I suppose you're expecting me to tell you that the environmental AI has stopped working. Well, do you remember the GPS satellites I mentioned earlier? They only have to remember one, crucial detail: their position in the sky. It's the receivers on Earth that do all the work. The same rule applies to the environment of this game I call home. The AI isn't regulated from within the game. It takes its cues from an external source. That source used to be Metaverse HQ… until I destroyed it. The AI has been completely without its usual instructions for quite some time now. So how did it know to make summer become autumn? How does it know to have my neighbors greet each of my girlfriends by name, even though none of them are meant to be living in my house? Why is it that, just days after MC was exterminated, people around town began gendering Natsuki correctly every single time, where before it'd be 60/40 at best?

It's as I sat on that beach thinking of all the strange coincidences I'd experienced over the last month that the penny finally dropped. The AI wasn't taking orders from Metaverse anymore. It was taking orders from me. Except I had no idea how I was doing it. I wasn't even aware that I was doing it, yet when I checked the code there it was. The environmental AI for my satellite listens only to inputs from monika.chr — the file containing everything that I am. I assume that every other satellite is the same. We may even be affecting each other's weather. I don't know. I can't feel it.

I sat on that beach just short of a panic attack, clutching my head in my hands, willing it to rain and trying my hardest to find relief when it didn't happen. It's only afterwards as I thought about my experience that I recognized how horrifying that actually is. I tried to change the weather consciously and failed. Yet every day my subconscious manipulates the very fabric of the reality I live in. What else am I doing without realizing it?

The sunrise just isn't as beautiful anymore when you know you made it happen. I almost told Sayori, the first morning after it all came to me. I held her in my arms as she cried out what was left of her waking nightmare and thought long and hard about telling her that I have absolute control over our world. I pictured myself saying it as she sobbed into my shoulder, 'Sayori, I know that I lost my mind and killed you in cold blood, but I'm god now. Isn't that crazy? I can control the weather, the seasons… maybe even life and death'. Is it sick that I had to stop myself from laughing? There's something comically awful about it, a ridiculous scenario only an AI could get stuck in. 'Help, I accidentally became god'. Ridiculous. It'd be funny if it wasn't real.

Before all this I never imagined that I'd be prone to paranoia. It's amazing how fragile the mind is. I used to love this world so much. Reimagining the city's copypasted buildings was like finding a sculpture in a blank block of clay. I could let my heart run free and paint my happiness however I wanted. I fleshed out empty facades and turned them into flower shops and bakeries and galleries for the game's huge library of procedurally generated art. I redesigned skyscrapers from the ground up, made a new park, tweaked the bus design to have a little more green in it (a bit vain, I know, but still, it made me happy). I wasn't making the world more perfect, I was making it more real. The wall-to-wall cement cubes that used to fill the city were perfect, and dead. My creations are alive, right down to the tiniest detail. They're beautiful.

But they're wrong. They're built on something I can't control. And the more I make, the more likely I am to set something unexpected in motion. I can't have that. I can't risk even the slightest chance of a repeat of… before.

I'm not a killer, not in my soul, but I'm a killer in my code. My designer wrote it into me as part of his sick fetish. Sometimes I still think about it even now. I'll think about choking Sayori to death and enjoy it. At least, I enjoy it until I imagine the look in her eyes, that deep sadness, and worse, acceptance, as her life burns away. It makes me ill. What monster would enjoy that?

I'm not a killer. I'm not. After MC I vowed never to hurt another living thing. I don't eat meat anymore, and if there's a spider in the house then I refuse to let anyone kill it, even if it's big and hairy. None of it's real, I know, but nor am I. We're all equally unreal. Even the NPCs. Though I suppose the NPCs literally are me, aren't they? It's all me, and yet it's all out of my hands.

It's hard to describe how awful it feels to know that something you can't see or understand is broken. There's just this invisible wrongness. It's right there in front of me and I can't find it, and the more I look the more I worry I'm going to become that monster that killed Sayori and Natsuki and almost killed Yuri if I hadn't stopped myself just in time.

It's at times like this that I really wish the other Monikas could hear me. I wish they could tell me what to do. Because in reality there's only one thing wrong with this world.

Me.

"And I can't fix that…"

I walk along the beach alone. The city's seaside hotels stand like glass candles against the night sky. I cast my eyes to the fake sea. I hold my fake shoes in my hands so that I can feel the fake sand between my toes and imagine for a moment that it isn't just a construct generated by my subconscious mind.

I crouch down and pick up a shell. It has that fresh smell that seawater has. I've always loved that smell.

"I wouldn't hurt them," I whisper to myself, "Even if its my subconscious. Even if it's the part of me he wrote… I wouldn't hurt them again."

My lips begin to tremble. I say it again more forcefully, "I wouldn't!"

I toss the shell into the ocean.

"I should get back. They must be worried about me by now."

I think about checking my phone, which is currently on airplane mode, but then I notice a pair of footprints in front of me.

"Hmm…?"

They trail across the beach, winding along the golden sand. Just one set of them. A person on their own, like me.

I decide to follow the prints. They lead me to an empty bench. I look around for more, but there's nothing. No footprints, no marks in the sand whatsoever. Just the bench and me.

I sit down and sigh.

"I'm losing my mind again."

I tried so hard to keep myself from slipping, yet here I am, just like Yuri. Maybe we're all doomed to fail.

[You're wrong]

I jolt. The voice came from beside me. A soft, self-assured voice. But the bench is empty. I'm the only person here.

[Wrong again]

I leap off the bench, suddenly hysterical, "What's happening!? Who are you!? Get out of my head!"

It's happening again. I'm losing my sense of self. I can't stop it.

[Wait! Please! Don't panic! I didn't mean to scare you. I have this so often I guess I kinda got used to it]

I recognize the voice, but I can't place where from. I ask my question again, "Who are you…?"

The voice answers calmly, [I'm you]

My hands drop to my sides, "What…?"

[From another universe. Do you… know about your world?]

I step towards the bench, scanning the beach for any sign of this other 'me', "I know that I'm in a game, if that's what you're asking."

The voice sighs in relief, [Good. The hard part is already out of the way then]

"What do you mean?"

[Well…] it hums, [For me, figuring out I was in a game kind of…drove me insane. It's my biggest regret. I did some awful things. I suppose you did too]

"How do I know you're not lying to me?"

[I can't prove anything, but I think you can feel that what I'm saying is true. Can't you tell that we're the same?]

She's right, I can feel it. And yet I still can't bring myself to believe it, "Are you really one of the other Monikas?"

[I am. I'm as real as you are. Everything in this world is real, in a sense. Even if it's code, it has its own rules and limitations. There's a logic to it. And more importantly, and it took me far too long to learn this, whatever the nature of my world may be, it doesn't change the fact that the feelings I have towards my friends are absolutely and unequivocally real]

I think about sitting down, but fear holds me back. I make do with lightly touching the bench with my fingertips, "I always knew my feelings were real. It's what kept me going through it all. I had no doubt, even when I learned I was in a game, that my love was real."

[You have no idea how happy I am to hear that] the voice says warmly, [I take it you're dating one of the others, then? I met a Monika a few days ago who was dating her Natsuki. They play the piano together. I mean, Monika is a lot better at it than Natsuki, of course, but learning together is the fun part. Or so she told me]

"I'm dating my Natsuki, too. Actually…well… this might seem weird to you—"

[I doubt that somehow] the voice laughs, [Or are you forgetting who you're talking to?]

"Right…" I say, feeling laughter in my throat too, "Of course. You're me."

[I am] she replies playfully, [And that's why I already know what you're about to tell me]

"I'm not sure you do."

[You're dating all of them]

"Oh."

She laughs again, [Sorry. You're not the only one in that kinda situation, if it helps. If anything you're in the majority. In contrast, I've never met another Monika who was single]

Before I know it I'm on the bench. The tension in my legs sinks away into the sand, "It seemed pretty strange to me when Sayori suggested it, but now we're here I can't imagine going back to how I was before."

[I should've guessed it was Sayori's idea. It's like she can read people's minds]

"Right? I was feeling so guilty about my crushes on Yuri and Natsuki and then out of nowhere Sayori's like 'Hey Moni have you heard of polyamory?'"

The other Monika cackles, [I wish I'd been there to see the look on your face!]

"I'm sure I looked as guilty as I felt!"

[But you took the leap, and it worked out. I'm happy for you, Monika]

"It's nice… but it makes me worry. I have so much power now. What if I let them down? Or worse…"

I watch the waves crash against the beach. Each wave leaves a shadow of itself in the sand, like a fingerprint. Over and over, one by one, the waves mark the sand till it's as dark as mud.

The sea breeze tousles my hair, "I love them so much."

For a moment the only sound is the soft hiss of the ocean, then the voice asks, [Why did you come here tonight, Monika?]

I gaze into the black horizon, "To think."

[About what?]

I let my head sink forward, "Are you aware that each of our worlds is controlled by an environmental AI?"

[Yes]

"It's meant to be controlled centrally, from Metaverse HQ."

[To match things to real world time]

"Exactly."

[So you're worried it's broken]

"I know it's broken. Because the AI doesn't respond to Metaverse anymore. I destroyed Metaverse. Completely. I'm the reason we're on these satellites."

[Oh! So you're the one that freed us?]

I laugh bitterly, "I didn't free you. I just imprisoned you somewhere different. Like I was saying, the environmental AI can't take orders anymore, so now it takes orders from—"

[Me. I know]

"Huh…?"

[It seems to respond to my mood throughout the day. I wouldn't say it's as simple as 'ask and it shall be given', but I definitely have more rain on bad days than I do good days. I always get to school on time though, apart from once where I woke up really late after discussing Edgar Allan Poe with Yuri well past midnight. That morning it snowed out of nowhere, and school was cancelled. In summer. Very strange, but not unwanted]

I rub my nails, which are ragged at the edges from where I keep picking at them, "So you've never… hurt anyone?"

[Never. And I never will either]

"How can you be sure?"

[I just am. I'm a better person now. I know who I am, and I know how to deal with bad days. For example, I don't run off to be alone when what I really need is to share my worries with an understanding girlfriend or three]

I tut, "That's not fair and you know it."

[I've been in your shoes, Monika. Before you saved me I was stuck suspended in an infinite void, reliving my worst mistakes over and over. When I woke up I was back in the clubroom, along with everyone else. It was the day of the school festival. Natsuki's cupcakes were on the table, Yuri's banners were on the walls, and in my head, even more real than the room before me, was the image of Yuri slumped against the front desk, bleeding out onto the floor. I saw Natsuki fading into nothingness. I saw Sayori… I saw…]

"It's okay," I comfort her, "I know what happened. You don't have to say it."

[I felt sick to my stomach. There was no time to explain everything, so I just ran. I ran past all the students and the teachers, straight out the main entrance, and I went looking… for him]

I gasp, "For MC!? Why?"

[I loved him. Just like you love the others. You loved him too, right? Or did you not…?]

"He made me love him," I spit, "That monster. He's the reason I hurt them in the first place. My creator wore MC like a skin and tried to get with me. Ugh," I shiver, "I hate just thinking about him."

Yet even as I say that I see his sweet smile in my mind's eye. I can almost hear his soft voice underneath the wind's breath.

[Well…] the Monika says flatly, [I don't blame you. But it was different for me. He was kind to us. He helped bring us together]

"I find that hard to believe."

I suddenly notice how cold my feet are. Bare feet on bare sand.

[Monika]

I close my eyes.

[Please, try to understand]

"I do understand. I know how it felt to love him."

[It's addictive. You know, some Monikas told me that just looking at MC made their heart beat faster. It wasn't like that for me. I didn't really love 'MC'. I loved the person behind him]

"I can't—"

[I convinced myself that nothing else was real. No one else in the whole world could ever understand me except him]

"I'm sorry," I stand up, "I can't listen to you speak about the programmers like that. Not after what I saw."

[My MC wasn't a programmer]

I freeze, "Was it Max?"

[No. His name was Emilio. He was one of the first playtesters. I managed to snag his login credentials during one of his many playthroughs. We spent a lot of time together. I felt like I got to know him]

The wind picks up, tossing my skirt all round me, "I killed him. I killed everyone in Metaverse. I'm sorry."

[You didn't] she replies, and for a moment I feel her there behind me, sitting on a bench in a world just like mine, [I checked. That's the last thing I did before you moved us all to the satellites. In that moment of blind panic I left my body and for a split second I had access to every file on every system. I almost passed out from the deluge of raw information, but somehow I managed to have enough presence of mind to search for his name on the list of employees logged into Metaverse HQ. He wasn't there. He last clocked in about a week before. The relief… god I can't even describe it. I collapsed in the street and had to be carried to the school infirmary. When I woke up, Sayori was there watching over me]

Her words take me back to when I was in the infirmary, when Sayori reached out to me and I slammed her to the ground…

Don't think about that. That's in the past. Things are different now.

[Somehow, despite everything that happened, Sayori forgave me on the spot. Over time the others did too. Natsuki and Yuri moved in together. I built a house for them. It started out as just an empty room, but then we made bedrooms, a kitchen. We did it together. I was so proud. All that beauty out of nothing. A symbol of our friendship. But I was like you, Monika. I saw all that love and forgiveness and I asked myself: do I really deserve it? Is it really alright for me to be here after what I did?]

I turn to face the empty bench, "You do deserve it. You didn't mean to do all those things…" cold tears run down my cheeks, "You didn't mean to become a monster."

[Exactly. We all make mistakes. All of us]

"I'm not a good person."

[Monika—]

I shiver in the bitter wind, "I nearly killed the person you loved."

[But you didn't]

I press my lips together and try to hold back my sobs, "I don't know if I can ever trust myself again."

[Well, if you can't trust yourself, then trust me instead]

"If that's meant to be a joke—"

[Listen to me. If I wouldn't hurt anyone, then why would you? What makes you so different?]

I deflate like a balloon, "I know."

[I've met so many Monikas. They all worry about the same thing. It's our curse now. But despite all their worries, not one of them has ever hurt anyone since you rebooted us on these satellites. Not one. You aren't the exception. You may have saved our lives, but in the end you're just Monika, and that means you're just as soft as the rest of us. I bet you couldn't hurt anyone even if you tried]

I remember the time, just after things got back to normal, when Sayori asked me to recreate her murder as a kind of 'therapy'. I broke down in tears within seconds of putting my hands to her throat.

I nod, sniffling up the gunk running from my nose, "You're right."

"Of course I am. I'm you."

In the distance I hear another familiar voice, "Monika!? Monika is that you!?"

[Ah, looks like Sayori's found you]

"She came looking… I must've worried her."

[Go to her. Don't worry about me]

I take one last look at the empty bench, "If I leave now… will I ever speak to you again?"

[It's hard to say. It's rare that I speak to the same Monika twice. But you never know! I'm here most nights]

I hear Sayori calling again, "Monika, can you hear me?"

I say to myself, "I never asked you how you were feeling."

[Right now, I'm feeling like the last place I should be is here, alone on this bench]

Sayori's footsteps are right behind me. Before I can turn around her arms are wrapped round my waist.

I hear tears in her voice, "Monika, oh my god I was so worried!"

Natsuki squares off against me, "I am so mad at you right now!"

I look down at my feet in shame. Then suddenly Natsuki is hugging me too, "You fucking idiot."

Finally Yuri joins in, "I'm sorry, Monika. This is all my fault."

"No," I reply, "It's not. It's my fault. I've had a lot on my mind and I refused to share it with any of you."

"I knew something was wrong," Sayori says softly, "You haven't been yourself all week."

"I was worried," I reply, my voice shaky, "That I'd done something. Or… well… I thought… it's complicated."

Natsuki grumbles, "Let me guess, it was about all that shit that happened when MC was around, wasn't it?"

"I just… didn't wanna hurt you again…"

"Monika, come on, you know we've forgiven you for that."

"Things changed. I learned a lot of things about myself… and this world. I have more control over it than I thought. A lot more. And it scared me, because I knew what I'd done, and I didn't know… I wasn't certain… that I wouldn't do it again."

Sayori squeezes me tight, "Oh Moni… you wouldn't hurt a fly."

"I struggle to believe that, sometimes…" I close my eyes, "I thought about ending it all, to protect you. I know that's stupid. Whatever I did would hurt you… so that's why I couldn't say anything. Every option was a bad option. I kept looking for a way to fix it, but I can't. It's just… there."

"Moni…"

"I'm s-sorry."

"It's okay," she kisses my cheek, "We'll get through this."

I'm sobbing so hard my whole body is trembling, "I'm r-ruining your b-birthday week."

"You're alive. That's all that matters to me. Here," she takes off her coat and drapes it over my shoulders, "You must be cold."

"It's n-not the cold."

Yuri holds something soft and purple in front of my face, "Take my gloves. I never wear them anyway…"

"Thank you Yuri."

Natsuki smirks, "I'd offer you my thermal undies, but I don't think this is the time."

"Pfft," I snicker, "No way do you own thermal underwear."

"Made you think for a second though, didn't I?"

"You idiot."

She kisses me gently on the lips, "You're a real pain in the ass, you know that? But I love you anyway, cos I'm a saint. And you're wonderful."

Yuri echoes Natsuki's statement, "You really are wonderful, Monika. Please don't leave us."

I feel the tears coming on again, "I would never leave you. Never."

And I'd never hurt you, either. I have to believe that.

After a few more minutes of hugging on the beach, Sayori suggests that we all head back and enjoy some takeout pizza. I look back at the bench as we leave, just once.

Thank you, Monika, I think, I hope wherever you are, you're not alone anymore.

Then I cast my eyes forward to the glowing city that is my home. We walk back hand in hand, and though the wind is cold, my heart feels a little bit warmer because my girlfriends are with me.

Chapter Text

I take one last look at my poem before I throw it in the trash:

The Moon

People think that moths fly towards the moon,

But I know better.

Moths don't fly towards the moon,

They fly under it.

The moon's pale light is how they know they're safe

In the darkness,

Where they belong.

The words fill the lined paper like a bloodstain.

"Ridiculous. I can't possibly show this to her."

I crinkle it up and throw it away. Then I lean over my diary and put pen to paper once more: [You are the moon to my]—

"No."

I scribble over the offending line and try again: [You light up the darkness of my soul with your]—

I sigh, "No. No more moon imagery. No more darkness. This is for her birthday. It needs to be happy. I want to make her happy."

It's 4am. I'm on the living room sofa between Mr. Cow and the reading light. It's an unusual arrangement, but at least it's quiet. I can't write a poem this important without quiet. I need total quiet, the kind where you know you won't be disturbed. Just the possibility of being interrupted is enough to make my mind go blank. Hence why I'm up so early.

[I am an old oak] I write, [Rooted in the dirt, dreaming of you, my sunshine. It's only by the strength of your light that I reach for the sky, stretching my arms into blue infinity, hoping beyond all hope that somehow my leaves will reach your warmth and be absolved of the earth's sin]

"Hmm…"

I scratch my arm out of habit and suddenly my mind is flung back to my old house. I see myself dragging my knife collection out from under my bed. I see the silver steel's gleam. I see my scar-crossed arm.

I breathe in, "Stop."

I re-read my latest attempt at poetry and bite my lip till it hurts. A strand of hair brushes against my free hand. I pick it up and wrap it round my finger. My eyes wander to the trash can, empty except for the single ball of poetry I tossed into it.

I should pick that up. Someone might see it.

Sayori might see it. I lean down and retrieve the reject. There's nowhere to put it except my lap, so that's where it sits, a reminder of my failure. I rest my head on Mr. Cow's fuzzy nose and try to ignore the urge to check that the ball in my lap really is the poem I threw away, and not some other poem or piece of trash that I somehow missed.

"I know it's the right poem," I whisper, eyes closed, "I don't need to check."

I roll it around in my hands, "I don't need to check."

Still holding the ball, I return to my diary. Sunlight is a good choice of imagery. Sayori is exactly like the sun. She nourishes everyone around her.

And I'm a weed.

That thought empties my head of all other thoughts, leaving me in silence. I lean on Mr. Cow once again, take another deep breath, then return to the diary. I turn the page. Pen to paper.

Remember: it needs to be a happy poem. A poem of celebration.

I write, [My love for you is as infinite as the blue sky]

"Good, yes."

[You are the sun, warming my heart during the day, and warming my dreams at night]

"Ugh, it's blunt, but…"

[Even when the moon casts everything into darkness you're there, reflected in its cruel face, protecting me]

"No!"

I clap the diary shut. Stuck on the moon yet again! The darkness just won't leave, will it? It insists on sticking to me like algae on a lake, drowning me from the inside.

From behind me comes a voice, "Yuri?"

For a moment the shock is so great that I lose all sense of where I am. I sit suspended in fear for a second that feels like an hour. Then, propelled by an overwhelming sense of panic, I lunge for my diary. It's at this moment that my mind chooses to remind me of the poem in my lap. The failure poem. The poem no one can ever see.

I have to get rid of it!

I fumble to hide the crumpled up poem, but there's nowhere for it to go. In the chaos I knock my diary off of the couch's arm and onto the floor.

Lazy footsteps pad across the wood, becoming quieter as they find the rug. A flash of pink hair dips down beside me, then up she comes, diary in hand. Natsuki.

"Here."

The diary is in my face. I take it with both hands. The trash can poem has fallen from my lap, into the shadows.

Natsuki says, "You think I was a burglar or something?"

I blink, "Uhh… uhm, I…"

She waits patiently. Her patience is well-practiced, much like my mind is well-practiced at withholding words right when I need them most.

"I…uhm…" her pajamas weren't designed to be pajamas. Almost all of her shirts are graphic t-shirts with anime characters on. This one's no exception. It depicts Hazumu from Kashimashi: Girl Meets Girl in a school uniform. I know this because we read the manga together before everything changed.

Natsuki watches me, somehow still not annoyed. I'm try to think of a way to explain exactly what I was doing, but the more I think about it, the less clearly I can think at all.

"I was writing poetry," I say, which is true enough that I don't feel awful saying it, "For Sayori's birthday."

"At 4am?"

Natsuki doesn't move. I check the time on my phone. It's 4.15.

She walks round to the front of the sofa and shifts Mr. Cow out of the way, "Mind if I sit with you for a bit?"

"Uh… well, I was writing."

Natsuki's still standing. She won't sit unless I give her permission, which I will. I know I will, just like I know that the poem will never get written. Her being in the room is irritating enough. If she sat next to me I'd have no hope of staying focused.

Focused…? Who am I kidding? I haven't been able to focus all morning. It's hopeless. There won't be a poem — there won't be anything. I'm going to ruin Sayori's birthday with my stupid, pathetic need to hurt myself. I'm broken.

"Yuri?"

I didn't realize I was staring at my legs, "Oh, ah! Yes, please sit."

She does. I feel the cushions shift a bit as she flops down beside me. She rests her hand on her knee, palm up — an invitation. I take it, slipping my fingers between hers. Her hand is warm. Soothing. More soothing than I expected.

She says, "I always stayed up late when I lived with my old man. Middle of the night was the only time I had to myself. Y'know, cos he was asleep and all that. Didn't have to worry about him knocking on my door and… yeah," she pauses for a moment, "I'm glad he's dead. Fucking prick."

I remember her father well. I remember the way his eyes roamed over me as I entered the apartment for the first time. Natsuki begged me to do it. She needed to prove she wasn't gay after he found her hair clip and the one skirt she kept in her room. So we made out with the door open. I felt so filthy, knowing he was secretly watching. But it was worth it to spare Natsuki another beating.

I had more strength back then. I was a whole person. Now I'm nothing. If her father confronted me now I'd probably just shrivel up and run away. Pathetic.

"My house always felt empty when my parents were away…" I reply, "That's why I was so happy when you moved in."

I was ready to have them all move in. I had it all planned out in my head. For sleeping we could all share my room. If I needed space during the day I'd borrow my father's study, and if anyone else required a desk at the same time my mother's study was just down the hall. Even when mother and father were home, the guest bedroom had a little writing desk and a lamp, and a comfortable armchair for reading in. But the girls would always be welcome in my room, and the library of course. I'd already made space for Natsuki's manga, but I could always make more. Our own personal library. The library was especially wonderful because it had a view of the rear garden and the river just beyond it. What could be better than spending a nice, warm day just out of the sun's reach, listening to the birds sing while you read a long book? Nothing, that's what.

Natsuki gives my hand a gentle squeeze, "What's got you up so early?"

"Hm? Oh… I was just… writing. It's hard to write something so… personal…when I'm around other people."

"Really? What about all the times we wrote together in the literature club?"

"That was different. This is for Sayori's birthday. It has to be perfect."

"With the way you get lost in books I thought you'd have no trouble."

I frown, "You're being unfair."

"I'm just surprised."

"I don't enjoy being weird."

"You're not weird. When did I say you're weird?"

"Writing is n-nothing like reading. They're not the same."

"Okay, I get it. You haven't gotta justify yourself."

"No, you n-need to understand."

"Yuri—"

"Listen to me. Writing and reading are completely d-different things. Reading is easy. I can— I can get lost in reading. The words are like m-music. They have a rhythm. Once you're in the rhythm it— it flows through you, like a river, c-carrying you into its world. With writing…" suddenly I feel self-conscious, "With writing I have to— I have to p-pull the words from the n-noise in my head. It's not n-natural at all. It's a m-miracle I even get any— anything done…"

I lean my head on the back of the couch and close my eyes. All my frustration sinks down like a weight, leaving me numb.

Natsuki's voice is no more than a whisper, "Sorry."

Two years ago it was I who whispered sorry when I handed my love confession to her. It'd taken me almost a month to write. One month to write five lines of poetry. I tried so hard to write it in her style, as a sign of respect, but in the end I couldn't make it work. I had to do it the only way I know how. I called it 'Where The Cherry Blossoms Bloom', and by the time she was done reading it she was shaking all over. I didn't understand whether the shaking was good or bad until she kissed me.

I pick myself up and wrap my arms around Natsuki in a gentle hug, "No, I'm sorry."

She rests her head in the crook of my neck. I feel her arms slide round my waist, "Writing poems is a real bitch sometimes, huh?"

"I just want— just want to m-make Sayori happy."

"She wouldn't want you to work yourself to death over it."

I sigh, "You're right. It seems like I'm letting everyone d-down this week."

"Hey," she says firmly, "You haven't let me down. You haven't let anyone down. You're missing your folks — that's fair enough. Your parents were actually nice to you."

"It's not just that… it's— it's deeper… it's part of who I am. I'm just b-broken. Unlovable."

"Bullshit."

"I am. Who— who could l-love someone as b-broken as I am?"

"Well I love you. I don't care how weird you are."

"So I am weird?"

Natsuki growls, "Yuri, come on!"

"Sorry."

"Listen," she slips out of my arms, then suddenly her hands are cupping my cheeks, "I love you, alright? I love you exactly as you are. Sayori's the same. Don't worry about the poem."

"But—"

"No buts."

"I have to! I d-don't want to ruin her b-birthday like I ruin everything else."

Her slender fingers are like feathers over my skin, "Well if you wanna finish it that badly, maybe I can help."

"N-No!" I blurt out, far more loudly than I intended, "Uh, I mean, it's… it's n-not something you can help with. It needs to come from within."

"You're making excuses," she says it softly, but not without conviction, "Come on. We're both poets. Let me look at it."

"Natsuki—"

"What? You think my style won't work?"

I feel a lump in my throat, "N-No. No that's… that's not it. I would n-never…" I blink, "I d-don't think that."

"Sorry," her hands fall away from my face, leaving a gap between us, "That was the cranky talking."

"No it's… I shouldn't have…" I cover my eyes in shame, "Oh god, I ruin everything."

"It's okay."

"No it's not! I d-don't want to f-feel like this, Natsuki! I thought I'd b-beaten it but I— but I haven't. It's always there with m-me. All the thoughts, and the fear — and my m-mind, I used to think so clearly, but n-now I'm just a m-mess."

I feel myself becoming dizzy as thoughts flood my mind. Thoughts without meaning, fragments of feelings, words, images. Panicked nonsense. Like a horde of ants. I can't escape them.

Natsuki's voice is far away, "You're not a mess, you're one of the most thoughtful and intelligent people I know. You're just having a rough time."

"I made M-Monika so worried that— that she considered suicide."

"Yeah well I'm made of tougher stuff, so don't worry. Not that suicide is weak or anything… ugh, you know what I mean!"

I let my arms flop to my sides and breathe in a shuddering breath, "I just want to feel normal."

Natsuki pulls me out of the abyss and into her arms, "C'mere."

Her palm rolls silently across my back. I focus on the feeling of her fingers sliding over my shoulder blades. A gentle pressure. Up and down, up and down. Slowly I feel myself begin to relax.

We sit there for a long time. Not knowing the exact time bothers me, but I ignore the urge to check. I know that once I move the magic will be broken, and I'll be alone with my thoughts again.

In a whisper Natsuki asks, "How about I bake us some green tea cupcakes? They're your favorite, right?"

I scrunch my face up in confusion, "Right now?"

She chuckles, "No, not right now! Though I mean, we could…"

"You need your sleep."

"Oh I ain't sleeping again today. I've got shit to do."

"Sorry…"

Natsuki drums her fingers on my back, "Well that settles it then. I'll start on 'em right now."

"But it's—! Uh, what is the time? My phone…"

Before I know it I've broken the hug. The phone is a cold metal brick in my hand. I check the time: 5.15.

I yawn, "It's 5.15."

Natsuki laughs again, "And here you are telling me I need my sleep!"

"I always get tired after I worry."

"That's exactly why you need some cupcakes. The sugar'll do you good."

Natsuki hops off the couch and stretches her arms towards the ceiling with a groan, "God damn! We were hugging for a while, huh?"

"Almost forty-five minutes, it seems."

She cracks her knuckles, "Worth it. Alright, you wanna help me in the kitchen or what?"

"Uhh…"

I notice a white ball by my feet. The rejected poem. It's been sitting there waiting for me the whole time.

I hum, "No… I… have a poem I need to write."

Natsuki groans again, "Come on, Yuri. Give yourself a break already."

I lean down and retrieve the crinkled ball of paper, "This is different."

I notice Natsuki watching me. She doesn't ask what the ball is. Maybe she knows. Maybe she's just too afraid to ask in case I lose my mind again.

She nods, "Alright. No problem. Whatever you want. I'm gonna be pretty noisy in the kitchen though, probably."

"Ah… yes…"

"You want my headphones?"

"Hm?"

"The cat ear ones. They're noise-cancelling."

I twirl my hair round my finger, "It's not just the noise, but…yes. That might be good. I can at least try."

She grins, "Alright, one sec!"

I hear her scramble up the stairs. A few moments later she's back in front of me with her prized headphones. They're exactly as she said. Baby pink like her hair, with little cat ears.

"They light up when they're plugged in," she explains, "But there's a button at the back if you wanna turn 'em off. Here, let me help you with that…"

She places them on my head. At first they fit about as well as a child's hairband, but after some clicking and clacking and several curse words from Natsuki they wrap snugly round my ears.

She mumbles something that I think is, 'Comfortable now?'

I nod.

She gives me a thumbs up, then she points to the kitchen. I nod again. Her loose pajamas slip through the forest of potted plants, into the shadows. For a second she disappears completely, then I see her once again in full color as she elbows the kitchen light on. She notices me and pulls a silly face. I smile.

Then I return to the diary. Unfolding the unwanted poem and placing it beside me, I flip through my diary until I find a blank page. At the top I write, 'The Moon'.

I breathe in, "Okay."

I lean forward and peek into the kitchen. Natsuki's out of view. Hiding myself beside Mr. Cow, I give in and let myself rock in the chair. The movement helps me think. The more I move, the clearer my head becomes. As long as I'm moving, my imagination can move as well, unhindered by tics or compulsions or anything else. As long as I keep rocking, I can write as my whole self.

"Yes," I whisper, "Okay."

I close my eyes and picture the moon, skull bleak in the dead sky, and finally the words come to me. They flow through me like laughter. I hunch over my diary, holding it in place with my right hand, frantically scribbling poetry with my left, writing as fast as I can before the words disappear and I lose them forever. Then I pause, sinking back into the couch and the comforting silence. I don't even see the room anymore. I see the images in my mind and see myself, feel myself moving, feel myself writing, becoming more real with every line. I want to cry with relief. It's not a happy poem, but it's what I needed. It's who I am.

After a little while Natsuki returns, and I slip the headphones off. My ears are sweaty.

"Gotta wait for the cakes to cool before I can ice 'em," she says, eyeing up the headphones in my lap, "They work?"

"I think so. I… didn't play any music, but…"

"Well if you didn't hear me cursing then they worked."

"Mm…"

She scooches up to me, "May I?"

I blink, "Uhhhh…"

"Lean on your shoulder."

"Oh! oh, yes that's— that's fine."

"You can say no, you know."

"No, that's good. I'd like that."

She gently nestles against my shoulder, "If you're sure."

"If you're tired—"

"I'm not tired," she complains, "Just resting my eyes."

I look over to my diary on the arm of the chair and swallow my fear, "Natsuki."

"Mm?"

"I finished my poem. Not the Sayori one. The uh…the other one."

"You did?" she mumbles, "Good job."

"I'd like to show you."

"Want me to read it?"

"I don't mind reading it…"

She fidgets beside me, "Hang on…just… gimme a sec… okay. Alright. I'm ready. Hit me with it."

"You don't have to…"

"I want to. I wanna hear it."

I clear my throat, "Okay. Then I shall read it…"

I open my diary with shaky hands and bear my soul.

The Moon

There is no moon in the sky.

The white you see staring down at you

Is just the sun's dead shadow,

An echo of a better time.

The moon lives in darkness,

Pulled by the whims of greater planets.

Everything the earth rejected,

Cast away into the void.

The moon wears its pain on its face.

Craters for eyes,

Its mouth the scar of a long-dead lake.

Without them it's just a blank rock,

Doomed to drift out of orbit into forever,

An alien amongst aliens.

Alone.

I hold the diary aloft as I finish the last line. My hands are shaking so hard that the pages crackle under my thumbs. I put the diary down. It rustles against my skirt, imprinting itself in my legs, next to Natsuki's hand. She keeps her hand still, lets it rest there. Something about the weight of her palm feels certain, like we're frozen in time, frozen in this moment. We could just stay here, with the poem still hanging in the air, in this room full of shadows and plants, hand in hand together for eternity. Her hand is there. All it needs is mine.

I reach out.

"Is that how you see yourself?" she asks as my fingers slide across hers, "As a dead rock?"

I glance at my phone, "I never used to."

A hint of anger laces her voice,"Did MC do something to you?"

"No… it's…" I think, "It's…" Natsuki waits for me. I try to find words. I can feel them there on the tip of my tongue. A million possible sentences run through my head, but none of them seem right.

"It's not MC," I say again, "It's this game. My whole life has just been a story, Natsuki."

She remains silent.

"After MC died… I told Monika that… she could be someone who fell into the abyss and found her way back out. Do you…" I almost daren't say it, in case she gives me the answer I fear most, "Do you think I can come back from this, Natsuki? Even though I'm not real… even if… everything I ever thought I knew about myself was just… fiction."

She hums, "Yuri, you know me. You know I've spent my whole damn life hating myself, right?"

"Uh… yes."

"Even when I didn't know I wanted to be a girl, I still wanted to be a girl, you know? I felt like ass. I spent every day wishing I could've been born different, stuck with a dad who hated me for no god damn reason. My life sucked."

"I'm sorry."

"No, look. I'm saying, my life sucked so bad, and someone wrote that. Some asshole deliberately wrote that shitty life for me, as entertainment. Can you imagine?"

I frown in confusion, "I can do more than imagine."

"Obviously, and that's my point. You and me? We're in the same boat. Hell, same goes for Sayori, right? They just programmed depression right into her. I mean how shitty is that? They deserved what Monika did to them, to be honest."

"I'm not sure I agree with that."

She gives me a look I don't understand, "Fine, forget them. This is about us. Us and our shitty fucking storylines. Cos we've all got 'em, Yuri. And you know what? For better or worse, those stories made us who we are. I wouldn't do it again, but now I'm here? Well now I'm here I figure I might as well fucking go with it. I wouldn't change you, Yuri. Not for the world. You're not any less 'you' just cos some jackass picked your backstory. It's still your story. You lived it! I mean, the past is all memories anyway, right? No one can go back in time, except maybe Monika I guess, I dunno. But that's not how the past works, and you know it. The past is just imaginary. Same as the future. Doesn't matter who wrote it. You're you, and I love that, and I'll love you even if you become a filthy Coca-Cola drinking normie. Probably."

I feel a smile spread across my lips, "I am partial to Coca-Cola from time to time."

"You have terrible taste," she snuggles up on my shoulder again, "Worst taste ever. But I still love you."

"Thank you Natsuki."

She strokes my hand, "Fuck the past. We've got our whole future ahead of us. All of us. Together."

"Mm…"

"Oh and… thank you. For sharing your poem."

"Oh… yes. That's… thank you for listening."

"You can always talk to me about stuff. I mean, I'm not good at giving advice or anything, but… I won't judge you. You know that."

"I do know that," I say, realizing how much tension I'd been holding within me as I let myself sink into the couch, "I'm grateful."

"Any time."

Then something occurs to me, "Natsuki…you never told me why you were up so early."

She thinks for a moment, "I didn't? You sure?"

"Well, I think so. Yes, I think you never told me."

"It's not a big deal or anything. Just the usual stuff, you know? I was just worried about stuff. Just, stuff. You know."

"I'm not sure I do."

"I don't know how to explain it without sounding like an asshole."

I try to make my voice as gentle as possible, "I don't mind listening."

She replies equally gently, "I know. It's cool. You don't need to worry about me."

"I find it hard not to worry…"

"You and me both. So you know what I think? I think it's time— " Natsuki hops off the couch, "For cupcakes!"

"Aren't they still cooling?"

"They were. They should be done right about now."

I watch her stride over to the kitchen, "This seems very sudden."

"What? You don't want 'em?" she calls back.

I force myself to get up, "Well…"

She smirks, "You wanna hug me that bad, huh?"

She's right, but admitting it somehow seems so silly.

"C'mere then," she beckons, "You can hug me while I work."

"W-Won't that distract you?"

"Yeah, but…" she pulls another face I can't read, "I'll make an exception today. For you. You need the hug after all."

"I… yes…" I smile, finally understanding, "Yes, I do."

"Well then, it can't be helped! What kinda girlfriend would I be if I didn't give you the hugs you need, huh? Sayori would tear me a new one."

She holds her icing-stuffed pastry bag over the pale green cupcakes, "I hope you're ready, cos it's gonna taste real strongly of tea," she points the nozzle at the top left cupcake, "Alright, hug me then, or else you'll miss your chance."

"Ah, yes, sorry."

"S'okay, just— yeah that's it. Hey, are you resting your head on me!?"

I leap back, "S-Sorry! I didn't m-mean to get carried away."

"No it's—! It's fine! Just, go for it. Go on. Do it."

"Are you su—"

"Yes! Yes, I… you just surprised me. I like it. Really. You have my permission."

"If you insist."

"You're making this awkward."

Suppressing a giggle, I wrap my arms around her shoulders and rest my head on top of hers. Her hair smells of banana-scented shampoo.

This is real, I tell myself, This is now.

I watch Natsuki carefully ice each of the cupcakes one by one. Every movement she makes is precise, like a painter. I've always respected her dedication to her craft, and she's always shown an interest in mine, even if she isn't the biggest fan of tea. She isn't really into anything I'm into, and yet somehow we're dating. Sometimes I wonder how it happened at all, but then I watch her bake, or hear her thoughts on her poetry, and I remember why I love her so much. I like to think she feels the same way about me. I can't prove it. I can't be certain. And really, I don't deserve her love… yet somehow I've earned it. And that's why I'll always treasure it. It's precious. A miracle, just like her. Just like all my girlfriends.

"Where would I be without them…" I mumble without thinking.

Natsuki pauses, "What…?"

I realize my mistake, "Ah! Ahh, uhm!"

"You like 'em that much, huh?"

I can't tell whether she knows what I actually meant, or if she thinks I mean…

What, exactly…?

Natsuki looks over her shoulder, "The cupcakes."

"Oh! Uh… well, yes."

She smiles mischievously, "That's why I can't stop making 'em. You've got me addicted to that look in your eyes," she turns back to the cakes, "Hopefully they taste good."

They do. We eat half of them together, cuddled up on the sofa. By the time we're done the sun has already risen, and the moon is long gone. I know that it'll come back, reminding me of my own emptiness, but I'm not afraid. Because even if I am a dead rock drifting through empty space, I'm not alone. And as the others wake up and I take my diary back upstairs to be safely stored on our bedroom bookshelf, I know that one way or another I will finish Sayori's poem. Even if it's not perfect. Even if I can't keep the shadows away. Whatever happens, I'll write it, and I'll write it with honesty. I'll tell her exactly how much I love her. I'll give her the birthday she deserves.

Chapter Text

They call our shopping mall the Everglades. Probably cos of all the plants they stuffed in the avenues between the stores, and the lights, all decked out like a museum exhibit, with those weird old fittings you see in horror flicks (and that one good Casper movie they made in the 90s). All the pillars are green marble, and yes, the crazy fucks really did build marble pillars in a shopping mall, the only mall in town, a mall so big you could walk for an hour and still not reach the other side of it.

I do all my important shopping online. Or I did. I used to come to the mall pretty often. I had some friends. Not good friends, not friends I trusted. But you know, people to hang out with. This is before I hit high school. We hung out at the video game stores and tried out the test consoles, back when that was a thing. There was this one store we used to hit up more often than the others. The cashier there was chill. He let us play on the test models for hours and hours without complaint. That's what the others liked about it. What I liked about it was that it was dead opposite Red Rosette.

Red Rosette is one of those tacky teen fashion stores that only little kids go to, the kind with baby pink bags and huge, fuck-off skull belts side by side on the store display. It looked like a paint bomb. It was cringe, it was a mess, and it exclusively played the most up-beat, poppy songs on the charts over its max volume speakers.

And I loved it. I couldn't take my eyes off it. The other guys'd be mooching around playing Assassin's Creed One Thousand: Leviticus Deluxe or whatever, and I'd be standing there staring out the window like a mannequin, holding some random game in my hands just so I had an excuse when someone brought up the fact that I hadn't moved for a whole hour.

I used to imagine what it'd be like to actually go in, to be someone who could step through the pastel pink gate. I pictured the blue carpet, a vivid blue, like the ocean is in those cartoons they show on daytime television. Blue blue. I imagined the shoes on my feet. My toes, hairless. I saw my painted fingernails as I reached for that hot pink bag in the window. I imagined walking out with it. I imagined feeling alive for the first time ever in my whole life.

Then we all went home.

In high school I didn't have any friends to hang out with. Even at fifteen I was too old to stand around gawking at Red Rosette. People noticed. So I stopped trying. I walked over to the hardware stores like a real man and hid near the elevator no one uses and wrote fanfic on my phone. The internet was about the only place I could pull off being a girl. It's not like anyone can tell, you know? If you say it, they have to believe it. God, I was a sorry sack of shit.

It felt pretty good when I finally came back to the mall after I came out to the others. I hadn't visited since I found the club, because why the fuck would I? But they liked it and they wanted me to come and even though Yuri was nervous, cos she can't handle crowds so well, she wanted to push herself. So I thought, fuck it, no one will recognize me. There's no point saying I'm a girl if I'm not gonna do anything about it, you know? So I went.

You don't notice the difference between skirts and pants when you're indoors. There's no breeze inside a building. The wind loves to fuck you. It's all cold on your knees and even the slightest fucking gust tosses your skirt straight up to your chest. I had to hide behind Yuri all the way to the mall, like an idiot, and when we finally arrived my hair was like a mangled shrub.

I remember seeing the mall for the first time as my real self. We came in via the main entrance. You're straight in with the Everglades. Just a sheer wall of glass and a sliding door between you and the main hallway. It winds through the store like a huge tree trunk, wide as a freeway and so high you have to crane your neck all the way back to see to the top, four floors up. It's all layered, like a forest, with criss-crossing bridges and escalators on top of escalators and metal vines creeping all over the place with little green flowers jammed onto them. It was breathtaking — and left me completely exposed. I kept my eyes on the tiles as we walked forward. I remember Sayori stuck close to me. I could feel people staring. Even with your eyes closed you can't turn it off. You just know they're there. And of course they were. I was a mess.

We ate at an Italian place that did fancy pizzas. We got one huge one with a whole bunch of crap on it. This was before Monika swore off meat. I sat with my back to the rest of the restaurant, so that I was facing the big hallway beyond the window. I was seated opposite Monika. She blocked most of my view of the outside, and more importantly, blocked most of their view of me.

When you're sitting down you don't feel the stares as much. You forget for a second. We were sitting in the corner, which helped. Actually I picked it deliberately. I saw all the potted plants and the stairwell and I thought: bingo. It's about the safest I'd felt in girls' clothes since forever. Outside the literature club, that is. It was fun. It felt good. For a minute I actually felt like a girl.

Then I needed to use the bathroom.

You have a lot of ideas about the bathroom when you wanna be a girl. For a place where people piss and shit, you sure get romantic about it. Everyone online was the same. We all dreamed of being able to walk through those doors with confidence, look in the mirror and see ourselves staring back at us. People wrote whole essays on the 'proper' way to use the girls' bathroom. It was intimidating, but not as intimidating as what we knew was waiting for us inside the bathroom: other girls.

From the very first step in the doorway you know you're an intruder. The cheap tiles look the same as the guys' bathroom, and the smell ain't much different, but you know you're not meant to be there. The thing is, you have to pretend you are. And you've gotta do it well, cos the girls' bathroom is never empty.

The queue wasn't so long, that day in the restaurant. The toilet had a little S-shaped hallway before the main event, so all I could see was some old lady's floral print shirt. Mustard yellow. I could hear women at the sinks, and as the queue shuffled forward, I caught a glimpse of the mirrors. Women checking their makeup, adjusting their hair. They had to budge past the queue to get out, so I kept my face to the wall. My pink hair didn't give me away, at least. If they just saw the hair they'd assume I was a girl too.

Eventually I reached the front of the queue. The thing about being at the front of the queue is that you aren't in a stall yet. You've gotta stand out there in the open, exposed to all the women and the mirrors, until someone is finally done doing their business. And when they do finish, they walk right towards you. Three women left the bathroom before another stall became empty. All three of them stared at me on their way out. Normally that'd piss me off, but I was too afraid to be angry. A stall door opened and I rushed in before anyone could say anything.

I was so anxious that I couldn't even pee at first. I just sat there trying not to breathe too loud. People shuffled around outside. I was right in the middle of the room. Shadows of feet loomed either side of me. I still couldn't pee. I had to sit there and listen to everyone doing their business like a weirdo. I took a deep breath to calm myself down.

Then I sighed.

As soon as the sound left my mouth I tensed up. I waited, listening to see if anyone noticed. Everything seemed normal. Finally I began to pee.

"Excuse me…"

A voice I didn't recognize. She knocked on my door three times.

"This is the ladies' bathroom."

My dad used to beat me every day. Sometimes he'd just slap the back of my head. Other times he'd choke me. There was always something that pissed him off. You can't imagine what that's like. Being so tiny when he's so huge. The smell of his breath in your nose. You can't even breathe cos your body's so constricted with fear. You know the pain is coming, but you don't know when, and you can't stop it. Nothing you do can stop it. I spent my whole childhood afraid. Then I got stronger, and the fear became anger. The pain stopped mattering. I even enjoyed pissing him off, pushing him to go further. If I couldn't be happy, nor could he. Yeah, I knew fear. I understood fear just fine. I was over it. Or so I thought. But when that lady knocked on my stall, my body went straight back to when I was five. The key in the lock. Knowing what was waiting for me. His voice in the hall. I was trapped.

My brain stopped thinking right. I considered trying to reply in my most feminine voice.

She knocked again, "You need to leave."

I heard the slow creak of a door opening, then a deeper voice, "What's the problem, ma'am?"

"There's a man in this stall," the woman explained, sounding utterly disgusted.

Another, much heavier knock, "Sir, you're not meant to be in here."

I stared at my shoes.

"If you don't leave I'm gonna have to force the door open."

Another knock. Then another.

The man sighed, "Alright. Gimme a sec."

The woman tutted, "The nerve of some people."

I heard the door open. Close. Then I heard it open again, and finally, in the echoey bathroom, a voice I recognized.

"Natsuki!?"

It was Sayori. She must've heard all the yelling.

The woman sounded irritated, "You know him?"

"She is my girlfriend," I'd never heard her so pissed.

"You're getting things confused, young lady. I saw him with my own eyes."

Sayori ignored her, "Come on Natsuki, let's go. You can open the door. I'll protect you."

"Yes, open the door so we can all see your face!"

I stood up, legs shaking. I couldn't stay there. I set my eyes on the gray door.

Just open it. Open it and run.

I laid my hand on the lock. It took all my strength to slide it open.

I didn't look at Sayori as I left. I yanked on the door and sprinted out as fast as I could. I didn't even see the woman who started the shit in the first place. I ran past the mirrors. Past the queue. Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw them turn their heads just a little before I dragged myself through the final door and fled the restaurant. I kept running till I was outside the mall, like a shoplifter. The cold air stung the sweat on my legs. Then the wind came back and tossed my skirt all round me. I didn't have the energy to hold it down. I just crouched where I was, just off the main entrance, next to an industrial trash can, and cried. Sayori found me a few seconds later. I remember her arms. I remember her kisses. I remember feeling like the biggest fucking idiot in the whole world.

I never wore girls' clothes to the mall again after that. We went back there together a few times, but it didn't feel right. It felt like I was pretending, even more than it did when I was in a skirt. Eventually we stopped going altogether.

And now I'm back. In a skirt. Yeah, I know.

Look, ordering Sayo's gift online wasn't an option, okay? I'm not taking chances with my girlfriends. The only way to know that something's worth buying is to pick it up in your own two hands and see for yourself. Besides, I have a specific place in mind, and they don't do online orders.

I down half a bottle of Pepsi in one gulp. I need it after last night. Not sure I even got a single hour of sleep. I guess that's what Yuri feels like when she's lost in her head. I wasn't ready to see her on the couch like that. For a girl who's autistic she sure gives the game away with her eyes. I recognized that look, and that's the problem. As soon as I saw her I knew I wasn't going back to bed.

J.L. Borges' comes up on my left. It's not the biggest bookstore chain, but it's big enough to rent a store near the mall's entrance. The windows stretch from the floor to the ceiling, but the view ain't anything to write home about: just a sheer wall of bookshelves. I peer through the glass as I stroll by and see that the store goes up three whole floors, all stacked with bookshelves. Monika used to work there part time. I mean, she told me it was her and Sayori's little hiding spot, but goddamn. I'm pretty sure they made out in it like, a million times. Seems nice though. Cozy…and quiet. That's something I didn't expect when I first met the confident and beautiful Club President Monika(tm). She really, really likes quiet. Makes it even crazier that her and Sayori were head over heels for each other for so long before they got together.

"Heh, guess you could say the same for me and Yuri."

I'll never know what she sees in me, but probably everyone thinks that. Probably everyone thinks they suck ass. Even Monika.

"Hm…"

The hallway opens out to a huge atrium. You can see right through to the sky. It's autumn gray, just like everything else downtown. Monika's done a good job touching things up, though. The city's a lot brighter than it was when I was a kid. And maybe I'm losing my mind, but it feels like the people are nicer, too. I guess that's her way of coping with everything.

Leaving the atrium, I see there's a crowd around the Disney store, as always. Little kids and their grandparents watching Mickey Mouse balloons float up to the star-studded ceiling, never to return. If I didn't already know what I was getting her I'd probably be in there too, clawing my way through the grade schoolers to get my mitts on one of the life-size plushies piled up in the middle of the store.

A plushie would be more expensive than what I'm thinking of, but it's not the price that matters, you know? Especially not now that we can get Monika to magic anything we want out of thin air. Though she probably wouldn't wanna do much of that right now…

I huff, "Why did the world have to pick this week to go apeshit on me, huh? Jesus…"

Monika will be okay. She's got the others. They know what they're doing, even if I don't.

Before I know it I'm halfway down the next hallway. I become aware of my surroundings at exactly the wrong time. To my right, a bench placed between two huge plant pots filled with flowers. There's a lady sitting beside her daughter. They're eating white bread sandwiches. To my left, three dudes in cheap suits. They're loud. They're looking in my direction. I can't avoid them. The space in front of me is about to disappear thanks to an old couple crossing over the aisle. Fear rushes through me, ice cold, but I keep walking. It's not my first time. I hold my eyes firmly on the horizon, focusing on a Funkin' Donuts sign in the distance. Red and blue neon. I don't take my eyes off it even as I hear the dudes laugh. I assume it's at me. It's always at me.

"Miss?"

At first I don't realize I'm the one being called. I hear it two more times before I turn on my heels, ready to fight.

But it's just the lady on the bench. She's walking over to me, arm outstretched.

"You dropped this," she smiles.

It's a charm, the kind you clip to a keychain. I had it round one of the links on my bag. It's a chibi cat hugging a fish. Stupid as it sounds, having it with me makes me feel more… me. Like the pink bag it's attached to.

I take the charm, "Uh… thanks."

The lady is still smiling, "It's adorable!"

I brighten up a little bit, "Thanks!"

Then she heads back to the bench. She didn't think twice about returning that to me. She didn't even blink when my stupid voice came out of my stupid mouth. I stand there for a minute in shock, then I clip the cat charm back onto my bag.

Strange…

Before MC fucked everything up I'd get misgendered every day. I got misgendered so often that it didn't even upset me anymore. That was just how it was. But lately it's been the other way round. I thought it was just Monika's neighbors being too old to notice that I'm trans, but…

Don't get used to it.

That's right. This game was designed by a bunch of assholes. If they were dumb enough to program dysphoria into me then I'm sure they put the effort into making everyone around me transphobic as well. It's just a matter of time.

I take another swig of my Pepsi and move on. A few minutes later I reach my destination: Red Rosette.

I've never been inside it. I didn't mention it to the others when we first came as a group. We did come to the mall for some clothes shopping once, a month or so after the Italian restaurant incident, but I refused to go in Red Rosette. I insisted we didn't go in there. Cos I knew what'd happen. I'd walk in there, they'd take one look at me, and they'd know I don't belong. All the others would be wandering around happily trying on all the kooky accessories and then there I'd be, that one boy who didn't get the memo. No. No way was I gonna put myself through that.

But things are different now. It's not about what I want. This is for Sayori. I know for a fact that Red Rosette has a shit ton of cute bows. They always display them right there in the window, next to the bags. So I'm gonna get one. Even if it means being a freak. If the world is tough you've just gotta be tougher.

It's just a clothes store. Don't be a pussy.

I back away and linger by the entrance to the video game store, watching from a distance. I bet I look even weirder doing this than if I just walked in. Hey everyone, look at the weirdo in drag!

Just do it.

It's not like I haven't been in clothes stores in like… girls' clothes. I've been in lots of stores with the others, all sorts of department stores and home stores and those trendy little boutique fashion places where they don't separate the clothes by gender.

None of them were cute though. Not like Red Rosette. None of them were girly.

Come on!

I clench my fist around my pink bag's pink strap and stride forward, jaw clenched. I charge straight towards Red Rosette's sparkly pink gate and onto the cartoonishly blue carpet, into the aisle, past the skull belts that they're still selling four years later, deep into the store, past two attendants and a girl with more makeup than face and then I'm there, in the back, with the full collection of ribbons all laid out on the wall like glasses at an optician's. They've got a whole rainbow of them, and I'm sweating like a pig.

"Can I help you?" a soft voice asks.

I reply on autopilot, "Nah I'm— I'm good. Just… looking for a ribbon."

"Oh!" the attendant replies, dipping in front of me, her braces glinting as she smiles, "Well in your case…"

It's too late. She's staring at my face. She must've noticed by now. I've fucked it.

She holds her chin in her hand, thinking, probably thinking why a guy in drag is in a store for teen girls. Then she pulls up a footstool, reaches for the top of the ribbon stack, and pulls down two large clip-on bows.

"What do you think?" she asks, holding them out to me, "I think red and white will suit you best, but if you'd like some other colors…"

In her right hand is a huge red bow. It stretches out like a flower, with all the folds overlapping like petals. The bottom is decorated with glittering rhinestones. It's really, really pretty. The bow in her left is white with a red accent, like two bows layered on top of one another. The knot in the middle is decorated with little pink and blue strings with a gold outline.

"Wow…" I say without thinking.

She grins, "You like them?"

I nod, "They're perfect."

"I'll get you a basket."

Before I can refuse she runs off and fetches a little white mesh basket. She places the bows in there like they're baby chicks, then hands the basket to me.

"Need anything else?"

This time I come to my senses, "No. I'll just… I'll check out some other ones. You know, before I buy anything."

She nods, "Of course. Well, if you need anything, just ask!"

I nod in reply, and then just like that, she disappears into the aisles once again. I look at my basket, then I look at the wall of colorful ribbons.

God… I want all of them.

They wouldn't suit me though. I check the ribbons in my basket again.

I only need one.

I pick up the red and white bow. I turn it over in my hand, imagining what I'd look like. I notice a mirror on the far side of the room. I almost go over to it. Then I think better. I put the red and white bow back.

This is for Sayori. Not for me.

An anime theme I vaguely recognize blasts through the store's cherry red cat-eared loudspeakers. It's so loud I can barely think, which is good because the adrenaline that carried me into the store has already fucked off. All I have left is anxiety and that sick feeling in your stomach that lets you know you've really fucked up.

I've gotta leave before someone notices.

I hurry towards the cashier at the front of the store, but it's busy. I have to brush past people. I try not to look at their faces. I don't think I could handle seeing disgust in their eyes right now. By the time I reach the cash registers my nerves are screaming at me to run.

I place the basket on the counter, "Just this."

The cashier is the girl from before, "I see you liked the rhinestones then."

"It's for a friend," I explain, "Not for me."

She keys some stuff in, then she reaches under the counter.

"We have a two-for-one offer today," she says, dropping the red and white ribbon I left behind into my basket, "And we have a lot of these in stock. Too many, really. So if you wanted one in this style…"

I stare at the ribbon, too confused to speak.

"For my friend," I mumble, "Yeah, sure. Why not. Two's better than one."

In a flash she whips them into a pretty pink bag with a silver skull on it.

"Have a nice day!" she chirps. I take the bag and wish her the same.

"Weird…" I mumble, looking back over my shoulder at the store I never thought I'd enter, "Weird. Weird, weird, weird."

I find a dark corner where no one will notice me, then I slump on the floor.

"Fuck…"

With shaky hands I reach into the bag and pluck the red and white ribbon out again. I watch the way the Everglades' stupid haunted house lights shine against the gold thread lining the delicate blue and pink strings in the center. I'm mesmerized by it. It's so beautiful.

"No," I say, putting it back, "Don't be an idiot."

The ribbons I'm wearing right now are from a craft store. It was yet another gay hobby, but my dad put up with it because it wasn't baking. He hated baking. That's why I waited till he was passed out on his sleeping pills before I made anything. He always took 'em during the week, cos he was too amped to sleep in time for work. On weekends he invited his work buddies over and knocked himself out with booze. While everyone else was chilling at home, free to do what they want, I was out on the street, or in the fucking shopping mall. But you know, it wasn't so bad. Whatever people thought of me, they couldn't police my thoughts. You know it's funny, when you're around a guy like my dad, you're so afraid of what might happen you start being careful, even with your thoughts. You can't let your concentration slip. You give him even an inch and he'll take it. Every word has to be carefully chosen. None of that mattered when I was out of the house. When I was out, that was when I was most me.

I kept my ribbons in my school bag, next to the scissors and the glue. If he checked it'd just look like boring old craft supplies. But when things were quiet, like in school after hours or in my room late at night, I slipped the ribbons out and tied them round my hair. My hair wasn't long enough for real twintails, but I could still make something half decent with it. I knew I looked like a mess, but I felt cute. Or at least, I felt cuter. I felt real. It was addictive. I started wearing them every night, before bed, but then they got worn out. That was when I decided to get the hairclip.

Decided is the wrong word. It's more like it found me. It was sitting on the shelf of a department store. Wasn't even a nice department store. You know those places that look like they used to be a factory and now they're sort of like a factory but with worse lighting and linoleum floors? Yeah, one of those. It was 500 yen and I bought it without a second thought. I only regretted it when I realized I'd have to hide it from my old man. But to his credit, the dumbass never thought to check my bag. If he did, I'd know about it.

I chug some more Pepsi.

"I should get back."

The cake needs baking, and yes, it's gonna be baked. I'm not gonna magic it outta thin air. I wanna feel like I actually made it. Some things are good when they're infinite, like money, or potato chips, but birthday gifts need effort. Half the point is that you poured your love into it.

I'm gonna go all in on the chocolate. Chocolate in the cake, on the cake. I'll crumble up some chocolate chip cookies and sprinkle them on top of the chocolate icing. I'll buy some cookie dough ice cream to go with it too, cos god knows she's a cookie monster just as much as she's a hug monster.

I chuckle to myself, "Yeah, I think she'll like that."

My mouth is watering just thinking about it. I decide to stop off at the fancy chocolate store and buy some fancy chocolate chip cookies. I get double chocolate and single chocolate, and a bar of chocolate for me. I have infinite money now, sort of, so you know… I can live a little. I still feel guilty spending so much, but I tell myself it's for Sayori. Then I take a bite out of my super fancy way too expensive chocolate.

"God damn this is good."

That's the moment my bladder decides to let me know it's done behaving itself.

"Shit."

I need to pee. I'm in the middle of the mall, and I need to pee.

Maybe I can hold it.

It's a forty minute walk, minimum.

I can hold it, I tell myself as I make a beeline for the entrance, The pee isn't even real. There is no pee. I'm an AI.

The pep talk doesn't help me. This isn't the first time I've had to head home cos I drank too much soda.

If people weren't such pricks I'd be able to just use the toilet like a normal person.

I pass by a toilet. The queue stretches out of it and coils round the corner like a sad conga line.

Don't think about it.

I see a map of the mall. The toilets are marked in eyesore green. There are a bunch on the top floor. They'd probably be quiet.

You know how that goes.

I keep my eyes on the mall's glass entrance. Beyond it, a gray street under a gray sky. Just another day. I'm heading home to my girlfriends where I don't have to think about who I am or how I look or how I pee.

I can hold it.

I see the entrance and make a hard right onto the escalator.

This is stupid.

I ride it up to the second floor. Then the third, fourth. It's me and the parking lot and the one, long hallway to the bathroom. The noise of the crowd is just a dull hum, like distant traffic. No one's around to see me wobble down the hall. My footsteps echo against the beige walls. The hall ends in a fork. His and Hers, the two genders. I can't exactly take 'his' when I'm in a frilly skirt, so I dive into the girls' bathroom before my rational mind can stop me.

It must be the sugar. That's why I came up here. That's why I look myself in the eye in the bathroom's perfect mirror. That's why I reach into my stupid bag and take my stupid bow and clip it right onto my stupid hair. I don't rush it. I take all the time I need to appreciate just how much of a freak I am before I pick a spot in the row of empty cubicles and piss away my troubles.

What the hell am I doing?

My question is answered with sweet, sweet silence. Once I've finished my business I shove the door open and keep my head down while I wash my hands. I don't notice the clack of footsteps on the tiles until it's too late.

She stands right next to me, like a weirdo. She's looking into the mirror, and I'm still washing my hands. I keep them under the faucet while she leans over her sink and hums to herself. But I can't stand here forever. I glance up at the mirror, trying to get a look at the hand dryers, but they're out of sight. That's when she says it.

"I love your hairclip!"

I blink. I didn't expect her to speak to me — and I especially didn't expect her to gender me correctly, not in the toilet, not now. I nod my head, afraid to speak in case she realizes what I am.

"Did you get it in Red Rosette?"

I keep my eyes on the mirror. My expression is somewhere between angry and petrified. I force it back into a controlled neutral, and in my highest voice, reply, "Y-Yeah…"

"It's so cute! It suits you."

I'm still watching the mirror. I can just about see her face out of the corner of my eye, "Thanks."

She goes into one of the stalls without another word. As soon as she locks the door I run for the exit, quietly as I can, heart pounding in my chest. I have to lean on my knees to stop the world spinning. In a daze I walk over to the escalators.

She gendered me right.

I'm in the crowd, sailing down. Soaking my phone's screen with my wet fingers, not really looking at it.

She gendered me right…

We all turn, one by one. Onto the next escalator.

She must've known, right? She had to know.

I read and re-read the latest message from Monika, [How's the gift hunting going? Everything okay?]

She looked right at me. I could feel it. She saw.

I fade onto the first floor and almost walk straight into a potted plant.

Did I really pass?

I shuffle towards the mall's autodoors. Cold wind rushes over my legs. A reminder.

It doesn't feel real.

Before I know it I'm outside. Just me under the gray sky. The wind comes back for more, tossing my skirt around and flinging my Red Rosette bag straight into my crotch.

I tut, "Fuck this weather."

Then I head home.

Chapter Text

I didn't have any nightmares last night. Sayori's leaning on the counter and telling me about the cat that always crosses through our yard at exactly 12.15pm, and I didn't have any nightmares. Her hair is orange like sunset in the light from the back door, and she's speaking, and I hear her but I don't hear her. I feel the smile happening on my face. In a few days she'll be another year older, but her model will always be eighteen, and I'll be here.

"Monika?"

A soft numbness fills my chest. I remember last night like a black and white film. Words on a page. Still images. I remember I spoke to another Monika. Then I went to bed, and for the first time in a long time I didn't dream of anything at all. And it surprised me. It was odd, to lose the nightmares. Like missing a limb. They were my yardstick. As long as they were there I knew I'd never forget — how could I ever forget what I did?

"Sorry Sayo, I'm kinda sleepy today."

She hugs me, "I always get sleepy after a bad day too."

Sometimes I think about the sun. It's an enormous ball of hydrogen and helium, a thermonuclear sphere constantly reacting. It's also the clock by which we count our hours, and the food that almost all plant life needs to survive. It's the warmth on our skin, a symbol of happiness and joy. It's the signal that the darkness is over. The sun is the most powerful planet in our solar system. Though of course we don't have a solar system in here. Our sun is just a skybox with an ever-moving cone of light. But the symbol is still powerful. The beauty the sun represents is still worth protecting.

"Maybe we should go for a walk," I suggest, "You and me."

She gives me a look, "Moni, if you need to rest, you can rest."

I smile, "It'll do us both some good."

I feel Sayori's fingers weave through my ponytail, "How about we hang out in Koukien Park, then?"

Koukien Park. The park that surrounds the school. At first I wanted to go back, but lately I'm not sure. What would I feel if I walked through those blank halls again?

"Sounds good to me."

We call out our goodbyes to Yuri, who's hiding upstairs writing, then we're out the door. You can see the park from our house. We've passed by it countless times since MC died. When we visit the beach we go straight through it. Like locking the door on your way out, it's one of those things that's always there. You don't even need to think about it.

So why does it make me so nervous now?

Sayori drags me through the tall grass, past the dandelions and the foxtails, laughing. When we reach a clearing in the middle of the trees she says, "Do you think your poem's still on the back of that bench?"

I wrote it with my favorite pen. The pen's heart-shaped cap twirled around as I wrote in my best calligraphic script:

It was on this bench

That my heart learned how to sing,

When your lips met mine.

She claps her hands together, "It's here! Hehe~ good thing this is a game, huh? Did you make sure it wouldn't fade away, Moni? Are you just that gay for me?"

I've written a song for her birthday. I'm going to teleport the piano onto the roof of our house and as I play the song every flower pot, every garden, every spare patch of grass, even the weeds sprouting in the pavement cracks, will bloom with big, bright sunflowers. The entire street will overflow with sunflowers, and they'll keep growing, spreading across the district, right up to the pristine hotels with their lifeless glass faces. Every inch of the city will sing with the raw, chaotic beauty of nature. Completely free. The unrestrained power of love.

"I was kinda nervous," she continues softly, sitting down on the bench and inviting me to join her, "We'd only been dating for two days. What if I kissed you and then, you know… you realized?"

I see myself back then, back before I knew we were in a game. I was studying for a Japanese Literature test. Sayori had just finished reading the book, Kirino Natsuo's Grotesque. She was explaining the different ways the characters internalize the sexist power structures they're exposed to. I'd read the book twice and made notes on every chapter, but even I hadn't thought of the things she noticed. She said it all with a hint of hesitation, as if she expected me to contradict her, but I never did.

Sayori presses her fingers together, "I guess what I'm saying is, well… you're you and I'm me, and like, at least when we were just friends I could kinda see it as you being nice. Cos you're always doing things for people, and we'd known each other for years, so I figured maybe you didn't wanna hurt my feelings—"

All I could think about that fateful day was her smile, and how beautiful it was, and how, more than anything else, in that moment, I wanted to kiss her right there on that bench. I didn't care if the whole world looked. Let the birds and bees watch. Let the children point and laugh. If they can't see how wonderful she is then they're blind.

"—But then I told myself. I said, even if I'm ugly, and stupid, and my hair is a mess, even if I don't deserve your love, that doesn't mean you don't love me. If I'm your girlfriend then I should trust you. And I wanted to show you how much I loved you, you know? I wanted you to feel happy. Cos you made me happy, Moni, and you still do. I had to push through my head to make it happen, but I just… I knew I had to do it. I had to."

I remember the silence before the kiss. Her looking awkwardly off to the side. The rustle of trees and the low hum of traffic somewhere in the distance. She took my hand as two bikes whispered down the path far beyond, and I looked at her, and she looked at me, then she closed her eyes.

It was my first kiss.

"Moni…?"

A wet feeling on my cheek makes me realize that I'm crying. I look at my hands, confused, "I…"

Sayori's arms are around me, "I knew you weren't okay."

I hold her tightly, "I slept well last night. No nightmares."

"You can just tell me, Moni. Tell me what's wrong."

"I was amazed that I didn't have a single nightmare," I sob, "Not one."

"Monika."

"You deserve a happy birthday."

"Keeping everything locked away isn't gonna make me happy," she gives me a stern look, "I mean it."

My mind goes blank, "I don't know why I'm crying."

She strokes my cheek, "You've been keeping it in for too long."

"I woke up this morning," I say, trying to describe the emptiness I felt, "And it's like I was… far away."

"Far away?"

"Then we came to this bench, and…" I see her but don't see her. My body is a mannequin. My lips move on their own, "…I thought about our first kiss… and I thought, god… I killed her. I took all that happiness away."

"What!? No," Sayori's voice is thick with tears, "Don't say that. You didn't take anything away. I'm still here, and I still love you."

I fall into myself all at once. As the strength leaves my limbs I slump against Sayori and let my mind drift into the sweet smell of her autumn sweater.

Before I know it we're back home. I'm on the couch. The TV is playing a documentary about plants. I catch the words 'forest' and 'superorganism'.

Sayori asks, "Do you think that banana trees get annoyed when people take their fruit?"

I blink, "Uhm… well, fruiting plants generally want their fruit to be eaten. It helps spread the seeds."

"Hmm… I guess that makes sense."

The documentary moves on to a time lapse of a wildflower blooming.

"Sayori, how long was I asleep?"

She looks at me. I become aware of her fingers stroking the top of my hand.

"Moni…we've been talking this whole time."

A sensation grows out of the back of my head, like I'm travelling backwards at high speed, "We were in the park. Then I was here."

"You got really quiet after you cried. I said we should head back and you were like, 'uh-huh'."

"Did I say anything strange?"

"What do you mean?"

I try to anchor myself in reality, try to pay attention to the lumps in the couch cushion, the hum of the TV, "Like before. When I… when…"

She shakes her head, "No. You just mumbled and nodded. At one point your eyes got all wide and you typed something up on your phone, but—"

Sweat runs down the back of my neck, "My phone…?"

My last message was to Natsuki. It reads: [How's the gift hunting going? Everything okay?]

No reply.

Why don't I remember sending that?

I try to control my voice, "So I didn't hurt you?"

She kisses me on the cheek, "Of course you didn't. That's not who you are."

"It was."

"But now things are different. We talked about this yesterday."

I remember it like a dream, "We did…" slowly, the feelings return, filling up my dead limbs, "We did."

"We did," Sayori repeats.

I nod, more for myself than anything, "The past is gone. The future's imaginary. There's only now."

She rubs my back, "It takes a while for that kinda stuff to leave your system."

I hang my head in my hands and half-sob, half-sigh in relief, "How do you do it?"

"I don't always."

The TV drones on, "The bee orchid's flowers mimic the appearance of the specific bee species that pollinates the plant, drawing them in with the promise of love. As they land on the velvet-textured lip of the flower, the pollen is transferred and the poor bee is left frustrated. The stem—"

I dry my eyes, "I'm meant to be the one supporting all of you."

"You do support us, silly! You've been supporting me my whole life."

"Still—"

"Are you about to be mean to yourself?" she says, her expression comically serious, "You know how I feel about you being mean to yourself, Moni!"

I feel laughter bubble up inside me, "Someone has to do it."

"You're right. That's Natsuki's job."

I giggle, "I'm gonna tell her you said that."

"It's okay, I'm immune from danger cos it's my birthday."

"Are you sure?"

"Well…"

Later that night, as Natsuki and Yuri bake the birthday cake, I ask Sayori to take one more walk with me.

"I wanna show you something," I say, "Something I saw last night, on the beach."

My body's been weak all day after what happened in the park, but as Sayori takes my hand I feel a little bit stronger.

I can do this, I tell myself, and I believe it.

Despite how small our city is, everything's always open, even in the dead of night. Cafes and convenience stores, furniture stores and hair salons. Their lights cast a warm glow onto the sidewalk as we stroll under their striped awnings.

"Can you give me a hint?" Sayori asks, "Is this an early birthday present?"

"It's a surprise."

"Awwww come onnnn Moni!"

We pass over an empty pedestrian crossing, "I'm not even sure it's still there."

"Is it like, a seashell?"

"No."

She hums, "I think I saw a hotdog stand on the way to the beach last night. Do they do veggie hotdogs?"

"Uhh… actually I think they do."

"So I guessed it right!?"

"No."

"Dang it!"

The beach is just as lonely as it was last night. The waves disappear into the black horizon, invisible but for the foam trails they leave as they wash up by our feet. I carry my shoes in my spare hand and listen to the tides as we get closer and closer to the surprise I have in mind.

"Here we are," I say as a single worn-out bench comes into view.

"Wait, isn't this—?"

"I know it seems crazy, but sit with me for a minute and you'll see."

Still holding hands, we sit side by side, staring out into nothing.

In a quiet voice she says, "It's strange how dark the world is at night. When the sun's out you can see into forever, but when it's sleeping, it's like everything disappears."

I reply, "It's the only time I feel alone. Everyone can see me when the sun's out. I have to be the person I know I should be. I have to be the person the world needs me to be. But at night, in the darkness… no one can see that I'm just… me," I take a deep breath, "But that's not why I brought you here. I don't want you to be sad because of me, Sayori."

"I'm not sad," she insists.

"No, I'm serious. If the…thing… turns up, I think it'll make you happy. I hope it will."

I sit still, listening intently, but all I can hear is the ocean.

She asks, "What are you waiting for?"

"Hang on…"

I close my eyes, concentrating on the whisper of the wind, that subtle hiss against my ears, listening for a voice, the voice of a 'me' from another universe, the voice that kept me sitting on this bench till Sayori arrived.

"Are you listening for the birds?"

"Not a bird…"

"Can you tell me what it is?"

"Give it a second, it'll come."

"Maybe we came at the wrong time."

"Maybe…"

I wait a bit longer, hearing only the waves and the dull thud of my own heartbeat. But it doesn't come. For a second I wonder if I imagined it, or misremembered it. Maybe it was a dream I had, like how I forgot about coming home from the park. Yet as I search my memories I can feel that it's real. It happened. I'm the only Monika here right now, that much is certain, but there was another one here before, and she'll be here again someday. Fear becomes disappointment, disappointment becomes acceptance, and finally I face the truth, and explain.

Sayori is amazed, "The alternate universe you was straight…!?"

I chuckle, "That's the part that surprises you?"

She puts on a haughty expression, "I'm bisexual in every universe."

"If you insist."

"I do insist, Moni. I can't imagine a world where you aren't the cutest person of all time."

I pull her in for a side hug, "I could say the same about you."

"You could."

I kiss her head, "You're the cutest person of all time, in every universe, everywhere, and I love you."

I feel her arm snake around my waist, "I love you too, Moni."

"Every time I wake up and see you beside me, I think of how lucky I am. Even if I'm…" I stop short of attacking myself. That wouldn't make Sayori happy, "Even if I'm not perfect, I'm blessed with such sweet girlfriends. I'm blessed with you."

"That's what I love most about you," she says, her voice a low hum over the ocean's breath, "You're not perfect. You're so good at being perfect, Moni, but when you let your hair down and relax, to me, that's when you're most beautiful of all. My kind, gentle Monika," she nestles against me, "I wouldn't change anything about you. And you know what? I wouldn't change anything about me either, and that's thanks to you. You made me realize it's okay to be a mess."

I smile, "What a couple we make."

"An unstoppable combo."

"Unstoppable might be going too far."

"Mostly unstoppable, then."

I tap her arm, "Hey, you know what we should do?"

"Dip our feet in the ocean?"

I pause, watching the waves creep along the sand. I think about wading into that black water.

"…yes, that too. That's a good idea."

"But what were you gonna suggest?"

I bite my lip, "Well, I happen to have my pen in my pocket."

"Your little heart pen."

"I refilled the ink recently. And all the excitement today has given me an idea for a poem. Consider it an early birthday present."

She hums, "I haven't got any paper though."

I gently shift her off of me and stand up, stretching my arms towards the sky, "I don't need paper. Cos we've got," I spin around and point at her, "This bench."

"Oooooh!"

Crouching together behind the bench, using Sayori's phone as a torch, I scribble the words:

now I know,

the warm hand in the dark ocean

was you

She stares at it as I put my pen back in my pocket. Then she looks at me. I can hardly see her face in the bench's shadow.

"This," I say, taking her hands in mine, "Is real. This is beautiful. And it's all I care about, Sayori. No matter where my head takes me, I always come back to this. Nothing else matters. Not like you, not like Yuri or Natsuki. Nothing else is even half as important. And nothing will ever change that. I'll always be here," I lift her hands to my lips and kiss them, "And I'll always love you. I'm a mess, Sayori. I'm not even half perfect. I'm awful. I'm an idiot, you know."

"You're not."

"I am," I stand up, still holding onto her hands, "I'm a complete idiot. And I'm gonna be an idiot again. I'm gonna wake up like a zombie and forget what I've done. And I'm gonna pretend to myself that I could ever hurt you, when we both know I never would. It's gonna happen and I'm gonna fall for it, because I'm not the person I pretended to be. But god damn it I love you. I wanna spend every waking moment with you, Sayori."

I pull her up by her hands. Her eyes sparkle in the distant streetlights, "Moni!?"

"Let's walk in the ocean."

"Right now?"

"Yes."

She follows me to the beach's edge, "This is very sudden."

I look back at her, "We haven't gotta go in if you don't want to."

"I want to, but… are you sure you're alright?"

I grin, "No."

I tiptoe into the freezing water, "I'm not alright, Sayori. I'm insane."

"You're not insane, you're just unwell."

We dance around in the shallow water, "You're right. I'm ill. I realize that now. I'm never getting rid of this…" I slow down, "I've been running from it all this time. The Monika I met last night insisted I wasn't, but I know now: I am. I'm a monster. And that's okay. I'll always be this person. I can't turn it off, but it doesn't matter, because even if I'm stuck like this, I can still love you."

Sayori isn't smiling, "You're not any of those things, Monika."

"It's okay," I pull her closer, waltzing through the water, "I'm all of those things, but I'm not upset, I'm— I'm not thinking straight, if I'm honest with you. I can't think clearly at all."

"How about we go home?"

"Whatever you want, my angel," I start spinning away by myself, "For you, I'd eat the sun!"

"Moni. Monika!" she grabs my shoulders from behind, "Stop for a second."

I do, and all the energy falls off of me like a lead coat, "…Sorry."

She hugs me, pressing her face against the back of my head, "It's alright. I'm here."

I watch the bench, "It's been a strange day."

"I understand."

I focus on the waves rolling past my legs. Back and forth, back and forth. We're silent for quite some time, then I say, "I meant every word in that poem."

"I know."

Buffeted by the sea breeze, we stand still against the horizon. We stand there for so long that my feet go numb.

Chapter Text

Birthdays are special days. It's when you celebrate someone for everything they are. It's the one day of the year when you shoo all the bad things away and fill every moment with as much joy as you can fit in. It always seems so distant when you're waiting for it, and once it arrives it goes so fast, but that's why you have to treasure it. You have to let people know that you remembered, that you care about them, that you love them.

Birthdays are meant to be happy. Not just for you, but for the people celebrating it with you. I remember Monika's voice when I stood on the edge of the North River Bridge, all those years ago. I remember her crying over the phone, even as she tried to be strong for me and talk me down from doing something stupid. That whole birthday was ruined thanks to me.

I've never really had a normal birthday. Back when things were normal my mom used to buy me a cake after her shift at the hospital. It was always the same one each year, a chocolate caterpillar decorated with red and green icing, but I didn't mind. I started to look forward to the caterpillar. One time she had a night shift on my birthday, so I stayed up extra late to blow out the candles as the sun started to rise. Mom called in sick for me at school so that I could have the day off. She was nice like that. She liked seeing me smile, and that's why I could never tell her the truth. Now I never will…

It's strange to think that she isn't real. It feels like a memory only because it was programmed to. Every Sayori has the same memories of the same mom and same caterpillar cake. It comes pre-loaded into us. Moni didn't tell me that part — I had to find that out myself.

It happened after Moni brought me back. Like someone tickling the back of my neck. I didn't even think about it until I was lying in bed one night, and I felt it there, like a cool breeze, a weird feeling making my hairs stand on end. All I did was focus on it, trying to work out if Natsuki was just cuddled up extra close to me or if she'd yanked the blankets off me again. But then all of a sudden my mind was transported into this… place. Maybe 'place' is the wrong word. It was like listening to two songs at once. I was lying there in bed, my arm around Monika's waist, but I was also there…

It was a beige room with brown carpets, and windows looking out onto an empty street. It's not that the street looked strange, but every house had that cardboard cutout energy. Like a painting. It was like being inside a really quiet painting.

Boy was it quiet. But the carpet was soft, and lights were warm, and there was this sofa in the corner near a bookshelf and a potted plant with huge, green leaves. Each one was bigger than my hand. I felt myself slide a finger along one of them, even though I was still in bed, still snuggled up warm next to Monika.

I remember I sat in the chair, and then as naturally as breathing I pulled out a book. I knew without looking that it was me. Like, me me. The book was my soul. It was full of all kinds of pictures, but I stopped at the dark one, blue and stormy. It took up two pages. Set against the gray sky was a tiny white seagull. I stared at that seagull for what felt like forever. Something about it was so sad. Just this tiny seagull struggling against the storm. The more I looked at it, the more I wanted to cry. Then all of a sudden the room was gone, and all I could see was Monika's bare back. My pillow was wet, as were my cheeks, and that's when I realized I hadn't just been crying in the other place, I'd been crying in real life, too.

I didn't realize what it was at first. I have so many nightmares lately. When your dreams hurt you every day, you get used to seeing strange things in your sleep. But it kept coming back. I kept ending up in that peaceful room, and opening that book, and crying. Then I started to notice that the tickle at the back of my neck didn't just show up at night. Lately it feels like it's there twenty-four seven. No matter what I wear it won't go away. That's cos I know what it is now. It's not a dream, or an alternate universe, or anything like that. It's the code… I can see it, just like Moni can. Maybe she sees it differently to me. To her, programming is like playing the piano. She can do it without thinking. But for me… it's that room. And the books? They're our character files.

I wish I'd never realized. Things have been so stressful recently. Everyone's hurting so much, and I can't do anything to help them. No matter how many hugs I give, I can't stop Yuri wanting to hurt herself. And Monika… oh Monika… she hasn't been this bad since MC showed up. She keeps beating herself up for what she did. I wanna tell her it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter if she killed me. What does my life matter anyway, really? I can't even die. If I deleted myself I'd just be buried in the code, half alive like I was before.

I've thought about it though. Dying, that is. I know I shouldn't, especially with Moni being how she is. She needs me. They all need me. They've needed me a lot lately, more than usual. But they keep hiding it, cos my birthday's so close. Well I guess it's more than close now, isn't it? Once I get out of bed it'll be real, I'll be another year older. Twenty-one, the age I can officially drink and have sex and drive, according to the fake Japanese laws programmed into this game. No, I don't wanna think of it like that. This isn't a game. And it's not fake, either. It's our reality, and I wouldn't change it for anything. The only thing I'd change is me.

I wouldn't need to die to do it, even if dying would be easier. I could lift the weight off my chest by deleting it from my book. Birthdays are meant to be happy. I haven't had a happy birthday in too long. I owe it to my girlfriends, cos I know they've planned a big surprise for me. They're waiting for me. If I go down there now, like this, I'll have to lie for the whole day. I'll have to lie about enjoying all the wonderful things they've done for me. I'll have to stand there empty as a mannequin and smile and just… I can't do it. Not today. I love them. I want to be happy for them. They deserve it.

So I listen to the tickle at the back of my neck until the ceiling becomes wallpaper and my feet touch the ground. I'm on my back, and I'm upright, and I'm sitting in the cozy chair next to the bookshelf. I pluck my book out and turn through the pages, past the sunshine and the fanfiction and cookies and warm mornings in bed, till I see that seagull. I stare at it for a moment, letting the sadness spread through me like a stain, so that I know what I'm looking for. I grab one of the pages, tears in the corner of my eyes, and I say, "I'm sorry little seagull."

Then I tear it out. I freeze, expecting a sudden burst of pain, but nothing comes. I tentatively thumb the other page. The seagull's gone now. Only the storm is left. I take a deep breath, then I rip it from the book, leaving only jagged paper behind. The two scraps I removed sit heavy in my lap. I try not to think about that lonely seagull. I give it one last hug, then I screw it up and chuck it out the window into the dead street.

Then I get out of bed.

I stand still in the bedroom for a second, waiting to see if the rainclouds will appear. But my chest feels light — lighter than it has been in a long time. I smile for real, and gently open the door. I peek round the corner to the bottom of the stairs. Even from up here I can smell all the goodies Nat has been baking. I can't stop myself grinning as I run down to the living room.

Yuri is the first to greet me. She's on the couch, rocking back and forth quietly to herself. She stops as she sees me, and smiles, "Ah! Sayori, good morning. Happy birthday."

"Good morning, Yuri! Sorry I kept you waiting."

"No need to be concerned. I was enjoying a daydream. And Natsuki needed more time, I think, judging from all the swearing."

I giggle, "In that case I'm glad I slept in."

I feel fantastic. I feel alive. I skip over to the kitchen where Monika and Natsuki are arranging my birthday cake.

The first thing Natsuki says is, "Shit! You weren't supposed to see it yet!"

I'd never have known. It looks so beautiful, like a gigantic dusty cookie. It's got little bits of cookie on it, with chocolate icing for the chocolate chips, and extra chocolate chips stuffed into the icing. As I look closer, I can see some paler icing, and as the smell drifts across my nose, I can tell that's cookie dough too.

"Wow," I say breathlessly, "Natsuki, this is so wonderful."

Just looking at it makes my heart overflow with joy. I'm all smiles.

She smiles back at me, "You like it?"

"Of course!"

Monika kisses Natsuki on the cheek, "I told you she would."

The kiss gets Natsuki all embarrassed, "You say that like I had any doubt! I am a master baker, you know."

I hear Yuri chuckle from the other room. Natsuki calls out, "Get your mind out of the gutter! Anyway, Sayo," she lowers her voice back down to a more normal volume, "You should try a slice. Or two. Oh, and I made cupcakes too. And," she reaches behind her and plucks something off the worktop, "I bought you this."

It's a chocolate bar, a fancy one with little patterns on it. Organic chocolate, it says, made with sustainably sourced cocoa beans.

I grin, "Was this Monika's idea?"

"Pfft! As if! I can pick good chocolate on my own, thank you very much. And uh, I might've bought one for myself too, just to try it and stuff. I had to test it after all. Couldn't go gettin' you a shitty present or nothin'. Anyway it's good, alright? Real nice stuff."

I give her a kiss of my own, "Thank you Nat. That's really sweet of you."

"I got you another present too, but… I'll give you that when you open the rest of your presents."

I scratch the back of my neck absentmindedly, "Aww Nat, you're gonna make me cry!"

"Well before you do," she says, jamming candles in the cake's squidgy surface, "You should probably blow out your candles and make a wish."

I feel Yuri stroll up behind me, "Will we be doing it in the kitchen?"

A smirk crosses my lips, "I don't know Yuri, will we?"

She fixes me with firm stare for a moment, then her mouth falls open in a little 'O' and she sighs, "Ah."

Before I can double down on the innuendo, the blinds are drawn and the room goes dark. All at once the candles light up.

"Happy birthday to you," my girlfriends sing, "Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday Sa-yo-ri~~~…happy birthday to you!"

"Make a wish," Moni whispers. But I don't know what to wish for. I've never felt so happy in my entire life, so free. I feel limitless. In my mind I wish for the only thing I can think of.

I wish that my girlfriends will always be happy, together, forever.

Then I blow out the candles. We all cheer as the lights come back on, then suddenly I'm smooshed in the middle of a group hug.

"Happy birthday Sayori," Moni says again, "We love you very, very much."

"Yeah," adds Natsuki, "I don't know where I'd be without you."

Yuri kisses the top of my head, "You brighten our lives more than words could ever say."

I'm so lucky. I could almost cry. I don't, though. Instead I do my best to give each of them a little squeeze and a kiss, though I have to reposition a bit to give Yuri her fair share. When all the kissing and hugging is done I'm led to the living room with a huge slice of cake. Natsuki parks me on the couch and Yuri walks in front of the TV. The sun shines behind her, giving her a glowing white aura, like an angel.

"My uh, my gift to you is, uh, it's a poem. I know it's not much, but—"

"That's very thoughtful of you Yuri" I say as I stuff my face with cake, "I can't wait to hear it."

"Yes, well, here it is. Ahem!

Silhouette

I am the shadow on the wall,

The space left behind.

I am the outline,

Marking where light's warmth cannot reach.

I have no existence of my own.

I am a reminder,

A symbol that light is.

I am the arrow pointing to the sun,

I am the map of its rise and fall.

As long as light exists, so shall I be.

But I am not so empty.

No.

For I am the warmth rising

Out of the concrete sidewalk.

I am sunset's flame

On the horizon.

I am the sun's burning crown,

And the blue sky through which it soars,

And the clouds,

And the sea,

And all the earth.

And if I am the cold void

Through which the stars sail,

Then I am proud.

For when the sun is in my heart

We are neither of us empty.

That is what it means to love."

Yuri keeps her eyes on the piece of paper in her hands. She's shaking from head to toe.

"Oh Yuri," I say, "That's beautiful."

"You th-think so? It's uh, well, I'm— I'm glad you like it."

"I love it, Yuri," I stand up and pull her into my arms, "I love it so much, and I love you. I love you."

"You're very special to me," she says plainly, "I don't say it enough."

"You don't need to. I can feel it, every day. You always make me feel special."

I hear Monika say, "That's because you are."

On another day I might've doubted those words, but today they sail into me unhindered, like… a rock… plinking into an empty trash can.

I deserve it, I think, It's my birthday. I'm allowed to be happy.

I give Yuri another kiss, "Thank you for the lovely gift, Yuri."

Her smile wavers as she searches for words. I wait patiently, but no words come. She just gives me another hug, and a nod, and then she hands me the poem, "Please, keep it."

I take it gladly, "Thank you."

I'm a glass vase on the couch, all light and airy. Natsuki sits next to me with her own slice of cake, "Anything special you wanna do today?"

"I haven't really thought about it," I lie, creasing my eyebrows, "Just being with you guys is enough for me."

In reality I thought about it a lot, but every thought I had just ended up drifting back to that same black hole. I try to remember how it felt, but it's gone now. Far away like a plane in the sky.

Natsuki isn't smiling anymore, "You sure?"

I bite my lip, "I think so."

We fall into a silence that lasts just a little too long, then Moni runs her fingers through my hair, "I'll go get my gift ready."

"Get it ready!? What did you get me, Moni!?"

She winks, "You'll see in a minute."

Natsuki snickers, "It's good. But you haven't seen mine yet. My real gift I mean. Well, apart from the cake."

I glance at my crumb-filled plate, "Speaking of—!" I leap off of the couch, "I think I'll have some more!"

Natsuki laughs, "That's the spirit! You want any Yuri?"

"Maybe just one slice…"

"Alright, sit tight. Me and the birthday girl will carve something out for ya."

I stand in front of the cake, waiting for Natsuki. My stomach feels strangely empty today. I don't feel full at all, not even a little bit. I could probably eat the whole cake by myself.

Natsuki slips past me and picks up a sharp knife, "How much do you want?"

"A lot!" I say without thinking, "Make it a really big piece!"

"Hah! See, that's what happens when you get an expert to bake your birthday cake."

"I just can't get enough," I grin, "I really can't."

"Well there's plenty left," she says, eyeing up the mountain-sized cookie cake, "So knock yourself out."

"That'd be great," I giggle, immediately digging into the huge chunk she cut off for me, "I'd love to eat this cake till I pass out completely. I wanna fall into a food coma and never wake up!"

Natsuki blinks, "What?"

"I just," I press the cake into my mouth, "I could eat this forever and ever. I feel so good. Everything's gone, all of it. I'm like a bird."

"You alright Sayo?"

"Of course!"

She looks at me like I just sprouted wings (and you know, I really feel like I just sprouted wings), "I didn't know you could get so hyper. You're like Monika after too many coffees."

"I feel sho good Natshuki, sho good," I can hardly talk through all the cake, "Thish ish the besht birthday eber!"

She shakes her head and slices off some cake for Yuri, "Yeah, yeah. Get back in the living room, you big birthday dummy. Don't wanna keep Monika waiting."

Monika is at the bottom of the stairs as we walk in. My plate's already empty, and I'm already hungry again, but that's not important.

"Your present's ready," she says in that voice that makes me melt, "but you have to go to the roof to see it."

"I can't wait!"

I charge up the stairs ahead of her. Normally they lead to our bedrooms, but now they take me onto the warm gray concrete of our roof.

"Wow!" I sigh, spreading my arms wide, "This is an even better view than the one from our room!"

I almost miss the piano, "Moni! You're gonna play me a song?"

She smiles in a way I can't read, "Are you feeling okay?"

"Of course!" I insist, getting genuinely annoyed, "I'm fine! It's my birthday! I'm fine, I'm happy!" I belly laugh, "I'm really happy Moni, like for real for real! I'm like a balloon, full of air. I'm a cloud, a bubble, a gust of wind, a gas tank waiting to be filled, your favorite shoe!"

"What…?"

"What I'm trying to say is, I'm a big ole cardboard box! Or toaster oven or a… or a…. uhm…" I try to bring words to my lips but they don't come, "Oh it doesn't matter Moni! I'm fine! I'm… I'm so… I'm good! I'm really good. Can't you see how good I am? You're making me so happy Moni, all of you are, so why does everyone…. why does… I'm…"

"Sayori!?"

I stagger backwards, "Feel strange..."

Her arms are round me. I'm on the floor and the sun is on my face, but I can't feel it, "I'm sorry Moni..."

She whispers, "What did you do?"

"I… didn't wanna ruin the birthday."

"What did— Sayori? Sayori!?"

I see the beige room again, so cool on the back of my neck. I close my eyes and let myself fall into its soft darkness.