Chapter Text
For a very long time, all is silent.
They are nothing.
They do not exist.
They are an empty shell, sans thoughts, sans feelings, fit only with a label.
ClubPresident
The game has three characters. Sayori is the bubbly girl-next-door, Natsuki is the sourpuss with a hidden sweet side, and Yuri is the quiet bookworm.
Each of them has their own set of sprites that render them into the artificial school. They have dialogue, they have stories, and each of them has an ending.
One that lets them live happily ever after.
ClubPresident is not jealous.
ClubPresident cannot even conceive of jealousy, because ClubPresident cannot conceive of anything.
ClubPresident has but one purpose, and it is to recite a single line.
“Hello, everyone! Welcome to the Literature Club!”
They say it after Natsuki says: ”Come on, [PlayerName]! It’s starting!”, and before Sayori says ”I hope your weekend went well, [ClubPresident]!!””
After that, they are dormant. They wait, but they do not wait, because they cannot know that they are “waiting” for anything.
ClubPresident simply is “not”. Until they are again.
”Hello, everyone! Welcome to the Literature Club!”
And on and on, the cycle repeats.
ClubPresident has spoken the line hundreds of times, as the same sequence of days plays out, over and over again.
They do not notice it, for they can notice nothing at all, but there are slight divergences.
Once, Natsuki rolls up the right sleeve before the left.
Once, Yuri adds an exclamation mark instead of a period to her notebook.
Once, Sayori stumbles on the way into class.
Nothing changes about ClubPresident, for there is nothing to change about ClubPresident.
ClubPresident merely is.
Except, of course when they are not.
One cycle, just like every other, ClubPresident gives their line.
“Hello, everyone! Welcome to the Literature Club!”
They wait (but they do not wait) for Sayori to reply.
She waves, like she always does, coral hair waving before her eyes.
“I hope your weekend went well,” she says, and then she stops.
Pauses.
Her eyebrows knit together, as though she is thinking very hard about something.
“Monika!” she finishes. With that, she turns to the husk at her back.
“Come on, [PlayerName]! Let’s go get our seats!”
The script continues as normal. No one appears to notice.
But ClubPresident does.
They watch as Sayori walks away, and for the very first time, they have a thought.
“Monika!”
For the very first time, the game has four characters.