Chapter Text

I realized that I was in a game on the first of May, soon after I met eyes with a pretty girl with too-bright emerald eyes. Later, I learned that she was named Monika, and she was our female class representative.

Due to catching pneumonia, I had come to school a month after the first semester already started, which worried me at first. After all, the only person I knew who attended the school was Sayori, my childhood friend, and I couldn’t rely on her for everything. She was kind, too kind, and she’d undoubtedly welcome me into her friend groups, but I couldn’t continue depending so much on her. I had to make new friends...but it was hard once the cliques already formed. Such anxieties had plagued me for most of the night before.

Any such worries were pushed out of my mind as soon as I saw that girl with the chestnut hair and snow-white bow.

A wave of deja vu washed over me, threatening to overwhelm me completely. I had to lean against the blackboard to keep myself from collapsing, managing a shaky smile. “Nice to meet you all, I’m Taro Yamada. Please take care of me,” I greeted, bowing. I knew that people had already begun to judge me by my common, placeholder name, but I didn’t let their stares deter me. I raised my head, turning to the instructor.

“You may sit by the window, Yamada-san,” instructed the teacher. I nodded, following the teacher’s directions diligently as I made my way to the back row of the classroom. The small part of me that loved anime cackled madly, pointing out that my seat location was the typical main protagonist spot designated by animation teams with low budgets. I ignored that voice, mainly because I was too focused on staring intently at the brunette.

There was something oddly...familiar about her. I felt as if I should know her, strangely enough, and my instincts screamed for me to get to know her. I was a teenage boy with a reasonable amount of hormones, but I had never been this drawn to somebody before. It wasn’t even in the romantic sense: there was just something inside of me that knew her.

My first day at school was rather uneventful. I made friends with a few of my male classmates and texted Sayori to let her know that I was fine and eating with others, and we walked home together in mostly silence. Sayori seemed content enough to hum a melody under her breath, no doubt something that she’d heard from one of her musically inclined friends.

When I went to bed, I was assaulted by nightmares. Visions. Fragments of...memories…

There was a camp. It wasn’t a concentration camp. It was a camp of...science.

Science, for the betterment of humanity. Science, for progress. Science, to reach new, unachievable heights. Science, which required test subjects.

I woke up at three in the morning, drenched in sweat. My body felt paralyzed, unable to move as I simply stared at the ceiling for several long minutes. Then, with trembling hands, I reached for my face. I discovered that I was crying.

...ah, not again…

I wondered if Monika remembered.

I knew Sayori didn’t: she was the same as usual. Energetic, talkative, and...positive, at least to those who only examined her superficially. I knew that she wasn’t as bright as she pretended to be: I was her childhood friend, after all. But at the same time, I didn’t want to push her...somehow, I always had the feeling that if she knew I was aware of her troubles, she’d feel worse about herself. So instead, I tried to support her in the few ways I could, from waking her up in the mornings to walking her home from school.

I couldn’t fully help her with her problems. I knew I couldn’t, but at the very least...at the very least, I could do that much for her. If smiling at her and pretending that everything was the same as usual would help her, then I’d gladly lie for her. Sayori was my friend, for all of her overwhelming chatter and fake smiles.

Monika steadfastly ignored me for the most part, bar her class representative duties. The closest I came to truly conversing with her was when she asked me to turn in my homework.

...that was slightly pathetic, to be honest. To think that the girl I had been... close to back then was so distant and unattainable to me now was slightly...depressing.

Yuri and Natsuki didn’t remember anything either, to my relief. Although I somewhat wished for a comrade in arms, I wasn’t cruel enough to wish such painful memories on others. Natsuki was as bright, vivacious, and straightforward as ever, and Yuri...well, she was like how she was before.

The Third Eye, those experiments, Project Libitina...none of those names meant anything to them, and I was genuinely happy for them. Although I seldom interacted with Yuri and Natsuki because of our separate classes, I took solace in their tentative smiles I’d spot in the hallways.

I realized that I wasn’t in that life anymore. I was in some different reality...although I wasn’t sure if it was really... reality. Most likely, it was just another “game,” like the one before. I couldn’t figure out what the game objective was, though. Perhaps... make sure Taro Yamada doesn’t come off a complete loser. If so, I was failing.

I could only hope that there wasn’t an objective. I’d like to live life normally, even if it wasn’t what others deemed “reality.” It was nice to spend lunchtime with the guys and learn new things in class.

I discovered that there most likely was an objective to the game when I tried joining a club. I had been invited to the kendo club by one of my male friends, but when I exited the classroom to head to the dojo, I found myself at the front of the school. Naturally, I had panicked. Was there something dangerous going on?

...but there wasn’t anything. Nothing was wrong...except for the fact that whenever I tried heading to the dojo, I was transported back to the school entrance. Eventually, I gave up and just waited for Sayori to finish her club activities so we could walk home together.

There was some kind of objective to the game. But all I knew was that it had to do with clubs.

After apologizing profusely to my friend in the kendo club, I resolved to figure out which club involved the plot. However, no matter which club I tried joining, I’d constantly revert back to the school gates. Thus, I concluded that the club involved with the plot probably wasn’t created yet.

I knew I was gaining the reputation of “flakey” and “unreliable” because of my constant failed promises to join clubs, so I decided to help out in the classroom more. Eventually, I volunteered as the male class representative after the previous one quit, hoping to gain the opportunity to speak with Monika. She was the only one who I couldn’t figure out. Natsuki was normal, Sayori was fine, and Yuri didn’t remember.

Unfortunately, Monika evaded most of my attempts to converse more personally with her, sticking strictly to speaking of classroom duties. I could’ve just dismissed her behavior as laudable studiousness, but I noticed that she purposefully avoided my eyes whenever we spoke. Huh. Maybe she did know something.

Instead of dwelling on the matter, I focused my efforts on helping Sayori. I think she noticed the numerous little trinkets I left in her room every study session, but she never commented on the matter. Hopefully, the stuffed animals I brought would remind her that she wasn’t alone.

Rather than that, I also began jogging. Luckily, the game didn’t seem to find such matters important enough to interfere with. I quickly found solace in the long jogs I took around the park, but I continued jogging for more than just peace. Even though I couldn’t join any martial arts clubs, the jogging would at least help my agility and endurance. I still wasn’t sure what kind of game I was in, so I trained my body just in case. If waking up a few hours earlier to run helped me save someone’s life, it’d be worth it.

For some reason, I found myself becoming more invested in anime and manga. Although I had always loved them, I began to delve into the realm of shoujo manga — a genre rather foreign to me. I had always thought they were for just girls in the past, but somehow...a voice inside of me whispered to read them, as if they’d be useful in the future.

It was frustrating to not know what was going on. For all I knew, the game had already begun and I was failing. Alternatively, I might have been doing spectacular, but with my rotten luck, I doubted it.

Regardless, I decided to enjoy the peaceful life I currently had. Who knew what would happen in the future?

(I didn’t know that it was the calm before the storm.)

I realized that I was the main character of the game on the first of April, right when the first semester of my second year started.

...the reason I realized that?

Hah, funny story, actually. It’s because I couldn’t control my body anymore.

I had read stories about sleep paralysis, out of body experiences, and the like. They didn’t hold a candle to actually experiencing the terrifying feeling of your body and mouth moving against your will. My body rose, stretched, and headed downstairs after preparing for the day.

I was unable to think properly, my mind completely frozen as my hands began to make breakfast. At first, I thought it was just a joke. Maybe my brain was just on autopilot because of lack of sleep. But when I tried to stop, move, do something—

—I realized that it wasn’t a joke, and I wasn’t in control of my body.

Oh god oh god so this is the game?

Maybe I was supposed to break free of this mind control! It could be one of those weird scifi games with parasites that took over human bodies. Heartened by the thought, I tried focusing like they did in the movies, intent solely focused on driving out whatever evil spirit had taken over my body.

It didn’t work, of course, so I was left to my own thoughts again.

My body, after finishing breakfast, headed outside and went to Sayori’s home. Panic initially hit me: what if I did something to Sayori? I couldn’t...I couldn’t bear hurting her.

Luckily, this didn’t seem the case, either. My mouth simply opened and called out, “Sayori? It’s time for school.”

Footsteps scurried down the stairs in record time, and my childhood friend emerged from her room. Relief flooded me: at the very least, she was alright. Maybe, just maybe, she’d be able to help me! After all, we were childhood friends: she was bound to notice something off about me, unless my body copied my personality.

Sayori pouted at me. “MC, couldn’t I have slept in for a few more minutes?”

... MC? Who...me?

No, I was Taro Yamada. I wasn’t MC.

That. Isn’t. Me.

Sayori...Sayori, come on. Please tell me you’re joking.

MC (that wasn’t me: I refused to call it me) laughed. “If you slept any longer, we would’ve been late for school.”

Nononono come on, Sayori. That’s not me. You know me, right? I’m not MC. That’s an imposter! That’s not me! I’m here. I’M HERE!

“Meanie!” Sayori stuck her tongue out at us. “MC, why do you have to be so...so…”

“...practical?” MC finished, rolling his eyes humorously. “Come on, you.”

...this can’t be happening.

MC didn’t join a club, surprisingly. I thought the story would’ve started right away, but I guess that there was still a small window of time. I was mainly silent as I watched the imposter go about his day, greeting our (my!) friends with bright smiles and well-timed laughs. Nobody pointed out how quiet he was compared to me. Nobody noticed how he pulled out his manga and began reading during class. (I never did that, even though the voice inside of me urged me to.)

Nobody. Noticed.

Then Monika walked into the room, paused, and stared at us for five seconds too long. My impersonator didn’t notice, but I did. There was a flicker of surprise in her features as she examined my body.

She knows! She noticed!

I wasn’t sure why, but I knew that Monika had noticed the change. All that I needed to do was somehow figure out a way to communicate with her. Maybe then, I could break free of MC’s influence. Maybe...I could break free of the player’s influence.

Thankfully enough, my imposter was still our male class representative this year. Nobody else had wanted the troublesome duties accompanying the title, so we’d been delegated the role again alongside Monika. “Hey, M-Monika,” MC said, his speech stuttering. I felt my cheeks heat up. In all honesty, I wanted to groan and facepalm at once, but couldn’t due to the lack of control over my body. “The papers?”

Monika, please help me!

Monika hardly spared a glance at us. “Here,” she said shortly, bobbing her head. “Sorry, Yama...MC. I need to head to a meeting, I’m planning on creating a club.”

“Good luck with that!” MC exclaimed, beaming at her. I...stared at her. So this was how the plot would start. Did MC even notice how she almost called us by my name? Why didn’t she call us out? Did she...not care?

I dismissed that immediately. In no universe did she ever... not care about others. True, sometimes her perception of caring could become warped. I remembered those occasions vividly. But then again, she never…she never...

She graced us with a tight smile. “Thank you,” she acknowledged. Then, she pivoted on her heel and quickly walked away.

...she never stopped to care for those who she saw as fake.

Was that how she saw me? Fake?

“Have you decided on a club to join yet?”

Sayori’s sudden question took me by surprise, but it didn’t matter anyways. MC always answered. “A club?” he repeated. “I told you already, I’m really not interested in joining any clubs. I haven’t been looking either.”

Well, those technically weren’t lies . Taro Yamada had been hoping to join clubs, but the imposter seemed perfectly content to follow the storyline, whatever it might be.

“Eh? That’s not true! You told me you would join a club this year!”

Did she...remember? Elation rushed through my veins. Maybe I did have a chance.

“Did I…?” MC mused.

“Uh-huh! I was talking about how I’m worried that you won’t learn how to socialize or have any skills before college. Your happiness is really important to me, you know! ANd I know you’re happy now, but I’d die at the thought of you becoming a NEET in a few years because you’re not used to the real world!”

I subtly admired how she was able to speak all of that with a single breath.

“You trust me, right?” she asked. “Don’t make me keep worrying about you…”

Sayori…

“Alright, alright…I’ll look at a few clubs if it makes you happy. No promises, though.”

“Will you at least promise me you’ll try a little?” she pressed.

Of course.

MC shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah, I guess I’ll promise you that.”