Work Text:
Monika
“Monika, dear! Supper’s ready!” Mom’s voice floats up the stairs and through the small crack in my doorway as the smell of karaage* follows, the deep-fried goodness filling my room with a heavy, tangy scent, no doubt from the sauce Mom usually makes. My hand freezes as I look straight ahead at the composition notebook on the desk in front of me, my biology notes staring back at me as a sharp pain shoots up my arm, and I let go of my red pen with a sharp inhale. I flex my fingers a few times to get rid of their cramps as I look up through my window, the sun fully on its way towards the horizon as it covers me and the rest of the city in gold. I start to wonder just how long I’ve been sitting here at my desk.
The large pile of cardboard boxes sitting next to my closet casts long shadows along the wall, and I sigh as I take stock of what goes where and what still needs to be packed. I whisper a few curses to myself as I walk past them, my chest heavy and mind clouding over with something close to contempt the longer I look at them. It’s as if each box represents a different failure, a different consequence, a different way for me to be reminded that I…
The huff that escapes me brings me back to my room as I reach the doorway, and I reach up to fix the silky, white bow in my hair as I make my way down the stairs. I can hear Dad talking to someone who isn’t Mom in the dining room while the sound of cookware and cutlery faintly clanking around emanates from the kitchen. I adjust the hem of my skirt as I reach the bottom of the stairs. Normally, I would’ve changed into something more comfortable after a long day at school, but we have a guest, and a very important one, at that, so I’ve been stuck in my stuffy school uniform pretty much all day, and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to take it off!
“So, Mr. Laster,” Dad says, as I enter the dining room. “What part of the city did you say you lived in?” The man who Dad calls Mr. Laster clears his throat, his pale hair practically glowing against his somewhat flushed skin. I stand up a little straighter as our guest’s beady eyes dart towards me.
“My wife, Paula, and I live in Lawson Heights. It’s a very safe and comfortable part of the city, so your daughter won’t have anything to worry about!” Mr. Laster says, his slightly extended belly squishing against the edge of the table as he leans forward to talk. “Saskatoon is a great city in general, you know.” His voice is very deep, and he’s certainly got that North-American air about him, but, to my surprise, his Japanese is near-flawless.
“Ah, there you are!” Dad exclaims, “Monika, this is Mr. Laster. He and his wife Paula are going to be your host family in Canada while you finish your studies.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Laster,” I reply, as I bow slightly towards the fuller-figured man. Mr. Laster awkwardly bows his head back at me and gives me a big grin as I take a seat at the table.
“Nice to meet you too, Monika,” He says, his eyes raking over me before turning his attention back to my dad.
“Monika’s the top of her class,” Dad explains. “She’s super-involved with the school too. She’s one of the most active track team members, and she even helped her debate club win regionals!” I give our guest a sheepish smile as my face starts to heat up, and I clasp my hands together on top of the table to stop myself from squirming too much. I’ve heard my parents give that little speech about my accomplishments so many times that I can practically recite it in my sleep!
“My my, such an overachiever!” Mr. Laster replies.
“My apologies,” Mom says, as she carries a massive tray of karaage and cucumber salad to the table, the giant wall of steam practically obscuring her face as she walks towards the table. “The sauce took a little longer than I’d expected!” Dad and I stand up and lean over a little to clear the water glasses from the centre of the table so that Mom can set the tray down. Once the tray is on the table, she grabs the cutlery sitting next to the salad dish and lays a pair of chopsticks next to everyone’s place settings, making sure to give Mr. Laster a fork as well in case he wants it.
“This is incredible!” The fuller-figured man says, as he digs into his meal. “I’ve had plenty of karaage back in the day, but this stuff’s so much sweeter! How’d you do it?”
“Monika’s a vegetarian, so we use plant-based meat instead of regular chicken,” Mom explains, as she places a portion of cucumber salad onto her plate. “I’ve created a special sauce to go with it to keep things tasty!” Mr. Laster nods pensively.
“Vegetarian? Noted,” he remarks, as he picks up another piece of fried food.
“So, Mr. Laster,” Mom starts. “You said you’ve had lots of karaage in the past, and, excuse me for my comment, but your Japanese is impeccable!” Mr. Laster’s laugh thunders in my ears as he lays down his chopsticks and takes a sip of water.
“Ah, I suppose I should tell you a little about myself, ma’am,” He says. “My wife and I both work for an international tech company called Metaverse Enterprise Solutions-”
“Oh, I’ve heard that name before!” Dad suddenly chimes in. “That’s the same company that set up those fancy electrical stations around here a few years ago, isn’t it?”
“Right you are, my friend,” Mr. Laster continues. “Paula and I were assigned to oversee the project. Unfortunately, the higher-ups cut our funding and we had to scrap the whole project, but by god, did we ever have a blast here in Japan! It’s good to be back…” Mom, Dad, and Mr. Laster continue talking about Mr. Laster’s adventures here in Tokyo and how his home city is very different, but I’m not really listening. My mind wanders as I keep my eyes glued to my supper, eating quickly so I can go back to my room.
“Finished already?” Dad asks, as he looks at my empty plate. I fix my posture slightly as I notice everyone staring at me.
“Yeah,” I reply. “I wanna finish putting my biology notes together before tomorrow's study group. I just know someone'll need the extra help.” My chair scrapes along the floor as little as I get up and grab my dinnerware.
“Please excuse me,” I say, giving Mr. Laster a polite nod as I move away from the table. “It was nice meeting you.”
“Likewise,” The Canadian replies, as he nods back. After leaving my dishes in the sink, I scurry back up to my room, making sure to fully close the door behind me as I step through the threshold. The sun’s nearly disappeared over the horizon, the faint sliver of bright orange peeking out over the lower parts of the city skyline trying so hard to pour into my bedroom as night falls. I lean against my bedroom door for a moment to catch my breath, not bothering to turn the lights on just yet. After a moment more, I turn on my overhead lights and go back to my desk. My biology notes sit unfinished, though for some reason, I can't bring myself to write another word. The walls begin to close in as I stay in place, unsure of what I’m supposed to write next, and my vision starts to tunnel as I feel myself slipping away from the present. It feels like my thoughts are behind a giant wall that only grows taller the harder I try to express them…
… My breath hitches as I realize I've been holding my pen against the paper for too long, and I quickly pull my hand back to stop the ink from flowing any further, to no avail. There’s a giant dark spot in the middle of the page, bleeding through the paper and contaminating my notes on the other side.
“Fuck,” I mutter, as I push the composition notebook away from me and get up from my desk. I hear Mr. Laster’s obnoxious laugh ringing up from the dining room, and something inside of me snaps.
I have to get out of here.
Luckily, most of my clothes remain unpacked, and I have no trouble finding a comfortable t-shirt and pair of leggings to put on. I grab my phone and a small, handheld purse, before making my way back downstairs.
“Monika, dear, where are you going?” Mom asks as I pass the dining room. “I thought you were organizing your biology notes?”
“Sayori said she wants to meet me for a late-night bubble-tea run,” I lie. “I won’t be long.” I hold my breath as Mom, Dad, and Mr. Laster keep their eyes on me. Ever since I- things… went wrong… it’s been harder to leave the house for arbitrary reasons, though I’m kinda banking on the fact that we have company to help me out a little.
“Okay,” Mom says, her tone not completely convinced. “But be careful. It’s already dark out.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I reply, as I give everyone else a little wave and make my way to the front entrance to put on my shoes. The humid, July** air clings to my skin as I step outside of the house, and I tighten my ponytail as I take my first steps onto the sidewalk. A few cars whiz by as I walk through my neighbourhood towards a nearby convenience store. I don’t really have a destination in mind, but I may as well reach the store first and figure out where I want to go from there. I scoff a little at the gentle lights shining through the houses I pass, the insides looking warm and lively with people having their own suppers and winding down for the night. It disgusts me.
“Top of my class…” I mutter to myself, my tone almost mocking as I repeat my dad’s words out loud. “Best of the track team… debate club champion- GAH!” I loosen my grip on my purse as the bright, tacky sign of the convenience store comes into view, my dad’s speech about my accomplishments replaying over and over again in my head, his voice in my head growing louder as I walk closer to the tiny store on the corner.
Despite the growing tension inside of my chest, it’s true, I’m only in my second year of high school, and I’ve done pretty much everything there is for me to do except graduate. I’ve gotten the best grades in my class ever since grade school, I’ve never once not placed in my physical activities like the track team, and I didn’t drag the rest of the debate club behind me to first place at the regional championship last year for nothing! But what good are all of my achievements if…
I furrow my brows and shake my head slightly, trying not to finish that thought.
The sky gets darker the further I walk, and the buildings start to grow from meager storefronts to towering skyscrapers as I make my way into the neighbouring districts. The thin, flickering storefronts of small businesses slowly turn into blinding, neon lights as I set foot into Roppongi. The traffic is still bumper-to-bumper as I walk past rows up rows of cars trying to pass through, though the sidewalks aren’t much better, as the crowds of pedestrians only grow more dense the further I walk, the early signs of Tokyo’s night life starting to rear their chaotic heads under the thick canopy of signs above.
I flare my nostrils as I smell the thick stench of meat wafting from a nearby restaurant, and I try not to grimace as I turn my head to read its gaudy sign.
“Barbacoa…” I read its bold letters out loud as I make a mental note to never set foot in that place. As I walk past the front entrance to the restaurant, I notice a tall, lanky figure emerge from the doors, accompanied by a shorter, nearly bony form shortly thereafter. My heartbeat drowns out the hum of the crowd as my eyes widen at the sight of them, and I feel my fingers stiffen around my purse and my phone as I try to look away. Unfortunately for me, the shorter girl’s bright, rosy eyes meet mine before I get the chance to fade into the crowd. After a deep breath, I unclench my jaw and stand up as straight as I can as the couple approaches me.
“You have some nerve showing your face around here!” Natsuki exclaims, as she seemingly drags Yuri along behind her. “What the fuck are you doing, anyways? Are you following us?!” I open my mouth to speak, but my throat starts to dry up the minute Yuri’s eyes narrow at me.
“Haven’t you inflicted enough detriment upon us?” The tall girl adds, standing up as straight as she can. I feel my breathing start to grow heavy, though I stand my ground. I’m not letting that… liability… intimidate me like this in public!
“Might I remind you of what I can do if you harm Natsuki?” Yuri asks, her demeanour a lot more confident than I remember. Honestly, I’d almost be impressed at her newfound bravado if I wasn’t so pressed right now…
“Is that a threat?” I ask, folding my arms. Okay, yeah, that works. Yuri might be tall and imposing, and it seems like Natsuki’s started to rub off onto her a little, but I know she’s still got some of that pushover left in her!
“No, but it can certainly become one if you remain in our vicinity,” Yuri replies, and my eyes flick down to Natsuki who, for a moment, leans in and wraps her arms around the taller girl's waist, and I press my lips into a thin line at the sight of her clinging to that freak. Despite my frustrations, the crowds continue to move around us as the nightlife comes into full swing, and I take another deep breath as I weigh my options. I’ve already noticed a few passerbys curiously staring at our little scene. Yuri and I aren’t exactly new to the public eye, especially after the trial, and I could be in more hot water if anyone were to recognize us while we’re in the middle of an argument…
“Look, I know my apologies mean nothing, but I’m sorry-” I try to switch tactics.
“No you’re not!” Natsuki brushes me off, her face scrunched into a bitter scowl. “You ruined everything, Monika! You’re a fucking coward, you-” Her outburst draws the attention of more onlookers, and I shift my gaze ever so slightly just to see how many people have noticed us. To my relief, Yuri seems to be doing the same.
“My love,” Yuri begins as she looks down at the shorter girl, her voice noticeably softer. I frown at the pet name. It’s such a… Yuri… way to address someone.
“It would be wise to stop our confrontation for the time being,” She says, and I hug myself a little tighter as I watch her pull her long, spindly fingers through Natsuki’s fluffy, pink hair. “I detest her as much as you do, but the publicity is making me uncomfortable…” Natsuki doesn’t move her eyes away from me, but I notice her body relaxing a little the longer Yuri pets her.
“Do not mistake our withdrawal for cowardice,” Yuri says, as she looks back up to face me. “Stay away from us, lest we all be taken to court again…” My hands fly down to my hips as they start to retreat, the purple-haired girl’s arm draping over the shorter girl’s shoulder as they turn away from me.
“Okay, now that was a threat!” I retort, even though I know they aren’t listening. “Besides, we go to the same school… I’m sure I’ll see you again eventually…” I practically roll my eyes into the back of my head as I watch Yuri lean down and kiss the top of Natsuki’s head, and I waste no time in getting away from my spot on the sidewalk, the smell of meat only exacerbating my unease. I have no problem with girls dating other girls, but seeing Yuri so happy truly sickens me…
I continue pushing my way through the bustling streets, the hordes of people not getting any thinner the deeper I go. Roppongi’s always been a super busy place, especially after sunset, but tonight seems particularly packed. I start to wonder if there’s some kind of special event happening nearby that would warrant such crowds. Eventually, I stumble upon a tiny bubble tea shop amongst the lines of bars and other nighttime attractions, its sign barely noticeable against the other shops around it, though I decide to go inside anyways. I’m not hungry, and Mom and Dad might kill me on the spot if I try drinking, but I’m kinda sick of being outside with all of this noise, so I guess this little hole-in-the-wall will have to do. To my surprise, the place seems much more spacious on the inside than the outside suggests.
“Monika?” I hear a bright voice call my name, its cadence light and bouncy, and I see a bright red hair-bow out of the corner of my eye as I turn my head to see who’s talking to me. My whole body tenses up as if a jolt of electricity were injected directly into my veins, and I feel my skin begin to heat up as I notice that unremarkable boy sitting with her at one of the tables along the far wall, his presence yet another reminder of my shortcomings and-
“Oh hey, Monika,” MC says, as he waves at me like nothing’s wrong, except something is very much wrong- no… everything’s very much wrong! Nonetheless, I plaster a smile onto my face and wave back, before approaching their table. The boy gets up from his seat and grabs an extra chair from the table next to us so I can sit down. The bubbly girl takes a sip of her drink as I settle in, the pink and yellow liquid sloshing around in her cup a little as she cautiously sets the cup down, her expression deliberately neutral. It’s been a while since Sayori and I have actually gone on a bubble tea run together, but she isn’t pushing me away, so I take the lack of hostility as a cue to relax a little.
“Fancy seeing you out here so late,” She says, folding her hands together, her thumbs circling each other as if she doesn’t know what to do with herself. “What’s up?” MC’s chair hits the floor with a loud thud as he rejoins us.
“Just getting some fresh air, is all,” I reply. “What’re you guys up to?” The sound of MC slurping his drink grates into my ears as he obliviously takes a gulp of his drink, the rough noise practically vibrating through my teeth as I try to focus on what the blue-eyed girl is saying to me. God, I can’t believe I used to value this boy’s attention!
“I wanted to go for a late-night bubble tea run,” Sayori says. “You know how it is…” Her voice trails off, as if she’s been caught doing something she isn’t supposed to do, and I try to give her a reassuring smile as she shrinks back down into her seat.
“Sorry for not inviting you,” She says, her eyes drifting off to nowhere in particular. I mull over a few ways to show her that I’m not mad at her, though a light tapping sound from under the table bars me from fully settling on an idea, and I briefly glance down to the floor, only to see MC’s leg bouncing under the table, and my face gets a little tighter as I glare at him.
“Do you mind?” I hiss. The boy’s eyes widen and the tapping stops, and I can finally funnel all of my attention back to my friend.
“It’s fine,” I say, resting my arms on the table to prop my head up, my eyes locked onto the bubbly girl. “I wasn’t expecting you to ask me out anywhere.” My chest sinks a little as the words come out, my reassurance towards her lodging themselves a little too close to a place I’ve been trying not to think about all evening.
“I know, but to be honest, I kinda miss having you around,” Sayori says. “But you know why I can’t…” Her voice is a little quieter now, her tone less bouncy than before, and I sigh a little as she stops herself from finishing her sentence, though I’m not going to ask her to say something I know she doesn’t want to say. Besides, I know exactly why she’s holding back.
My thoughts are abruptly interrupted as MC’s phone starts buzzing like crazy, his ringtone just as irritating as he is. I press my lips together into a thin line as he takes the device out of his jeans pocket, the repetitive noise of the phone blaring through the tiny speakers catching the attention of a few nearby customers and the staff member behind the shop’s counter.
“My bad. Please excuse me,” he says, as he taps on the screen a few times and lifts the phone to his ear, his chair scraping against the floor as he gets up to take his call. “Hello?” My shoulders feel a little lighter as soon as he walks out of the bubble tea shop.
Fucking finally!
The silence stretches on between the blue-eyed girl and I as neither of us move. Her whimsical drink is half gone, and what tapioca pearls remain in her cup are few and far between.
“I saw your flyers for the new literature club the other day,” I say, trying to bring some semblance of normalcy into our interaction. Sayori’s eyes light up as I mention her new afterschool group, though she twitches slightly, as if to not show too much enthusiasm. If I’m being honest, I’m not totally upset that she’s taking the initiative for once. In fact, seeing her take it upon herself to be more involved with the school almost makes me happy for her.
“Yeah,” she replies. “I wanted to do some advertising before the festival, y'know? I remember how hard it was for us to get enough interest last year, so maybe things will be different if people hear about us before we have to compete with the other clubs around the school!” I feel the corner of my mouth tugging into a smirk as she explains her strategy, and brief flashes of my old literature club enter my head as I remember just how difficult it was to start something new. But of course, I have little reason to think about that sort of thing anymore…
“Well, if you want any help, you know I won’t say no to organizing a group,” I say a little too casually, as if I’m trying to reassure myself more than I’m trying to reassure her. I know there’s no way she’s gonna accept my help given who’s in the new club, but it’s never a bad thing to offer a helping hand. Sayori chuckles almost too forcefully for me to believe she’ll say yes, but I know she’s just trying to keep things smooth, which, I must admit, I’m very grateful for. Another silence washes over us as we both try to figure out where to go from here. As we sit, my thoughts about this evening begin to get too loud for my liking, and I feel my hands begin to tense up as I try not to think too hard about what’s waiting for me when i go back home, but the sound of Mr. Laster’s laugh won’t stop ringing in my ears, his deep voice pushing against a mental wall I’ve been trying so hard to keep up ever since…
My sigh ends in a frustrated growl as the dam breaks.
“Sayori,” I start. The bubbly girl tilts her head as she takes another sip of her drink.
“Have… you ever thought about your… legacy?” I ask, the sentence leaving a choppy and awkward taste in my mouth.
“Not really,” The peach-haired girl says. “You know I never had plans to live after graduation, remember? Why do you ask?” Her statement is blunt, yet it’s a stark reminder of who the bubbly girl really is beneath her cheerful facade, and I shift a little in my seat, trying to come up with another way to approach her.
“Right… Well…” I try again.
“Monika, are you nervous about moving away?” Sayori asks, her bright, blue eyes pointing directly at mine as she freezes in place. I let out a nervous chuckle as I reach up to fidget with my ponytail. I hate to admit it, but she’s always had this ability to read me better than I expect her to, for better or for worse.
“Sayori, I’m at the top of our class! I’ve made a name for myself on the track team! Hell, I could probably help the old debate club win regionals again this year if I really wanted to!” I exclaim, my thoughts spilling out faster than I can stop them, though at this point, I see no reason to keep them down anymore. “But I-” Luckily, my mouth stops moving for just a fraction of a second, allowing me to gather my thoughts.
“You wasted everything. I know,” She finishes my sentence for me, her words squeezing around my heart as the words dig their ugly claws into it. “I was there.”
“My parents…” I try, my voice a lot thinner than before as I try to stop the lump in my throat from growing too large. “They’re shipping me off to Canada in a few weeks… Sayori, I-” My head snaps to the side as I look away for a moment, unable to face my friend as my body begins to tremble.
“Look, you can’t undo what you did-” Sayori starts.
“Someone died because of what I started, Sayori!” I interrupt her, and she jumps a little. “You and I both know I let my jealousy get the best of me, but I didn’t think Yuri would go out of her way to-” I bury my face in my hands before I let the rest of my phrase out. Just because I wasn’t the one holding the knife, doesn’t mean my hands are completely clean…
“Of course, Mom and Dad spent pretty much every dollar they had to fight for me in court,” I continue, still keeping my head down. “Thank goodness my Dad’s on the education board, otherwise I’d be expelled! Of course, the agreement he made with the chairman is hardly any better…” I sniff a few times as I feel the corners of my eyes getting heavy against my will. Neither Sayori nor I say a word as I try not to have a complete meltdown in this stupid little bubble tea shop. I feel a gentle hand on my shoulder, and I finally find it in me to look back up.
“So you messed up super badly. That's terrible, right?” Sayori says. “But I think the move might be good for you, Monika.” she says, as she pats my shoulder a few times, her expression unwavering even as I squint at her in confusion.
“Don’t tell Yuri or Natsuki I’m saying this but,” She says. “I still have faith in you, y’know.” Her mouth curls up into a slight smile as she pulls her hand back and picks up her cup to slurp the last of her drink. My body won’t stop shaking.
“If you just keep being Monika, I’m sure you’ll be at the top of your new class too!” She quips, as she sets the empty cup down.
“But being Monika’s precisely why I…” I sniff again. I can’t tell if she actually means what she’s telling me, or if she’s only saying the things she thinks I want to hear. That’s the thing about Sayori… she somehow always knows what to say…
“Excuse me,” The staff member from the shop’s counter interjects as they approach our table. “Just letting you know that we are closing in 10 minutes.” Sayori and I both thank them for the reminder and begin to stand up so we can leave. The shop is empty now, save for my friend, the staff member, and I.
“MC’s already gone home,” Sayori says as she checks her messages. “He said his mom’s kinda pissed about him staying out so late on a school night.” She starts typing something into her phone.
“I may as well call a cab then,” she says as we head for the door. “It’s no good walking alone at night.” I nod without a word despite my own journey here. The sound of Roppongi’s night life hits us as we open the shop’s door, and I have to squint for a second as my eyes adjust to the wall of neon signs from the other shops and bars outside.
“Okay, my ride’s on its way, but I have to walk a few blocks to get to the pickup point,” Sayori says, as she pockets her phone and quickly fixes the red bow in her hair. “I should probably get going. Have a good night, Monika!” She gives me a short wave, before turning around to leave, her steps just as light and airy as she is. My body jolts forward slightly as my impulses explode, and I take a step forward, still not fully understanding what’s happening.
“Sayori, wait!” I call out. The peach-haired girl stops and looks behind her, though she doesn’t move her body. I feel my pulse begin to quicken, and the streets around us begin to slow as my vision narrows around her round face.
“D-Don’t forget about me, o-okay?” I whimper, my voice cracking slightly as the absurd request leaves my lips. “Please…” Sayori doesn’t reply, but the smile she gives me reaches her eyes, the look on her face telling me more than words can say, and her expression giving me the faintest sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, I’ll be better off in the long run if I don’t stay here in Japan. I watch as she turns around again and wait until I can't see that tiny red hairbow anymore before turning around myself and start walking.
I cling to that sliver of hope all the way home.