13 12- A Prison Of Excellence

{A/N: Missed the mark for this one. But here it is.}

Chatting casually the rest of the way, Cal observed that Sayori was a bit happy. Even when she tried to hided it beneath with the extra layer she put on, as if she thought she could fool him or that what he truly appreciated was her makeup. He wasn't the MC. He could see the gears turning behind her head, the slight nervousness as she often brought the club in their conversation.

Silly gal.

He didn't know how to help her. Not truly, he wasn't a therapist. And reastically, he was the only part of her social support system. But did it really matter right now? As much as it made uncomfortable, she wasn't a true person yet. Not in the true sense of the world. She didn't have free will like Monika and he did. And even Monika was forced to follow some rules at this points in time. He couldn't save her yet.

But he would find a way. He just... Really didn't want to mess up. With her depression, a revelation like the one Monika had could very well break her for good.

Discarding the thought, he eyed up the pencil still in his hand and began to twirl it with again. His heart setting as a quiet spark of determination and into a bright fire as he caught sight of Sayori, her head tilted curiously and her blue eyes glittering with the light of the sun just right to sparkle as she looked at it.

Welp, he really shouldn't be surprised of the picturesque scene. But given the nature of this world. But he couldn't help it. 

It wasn't so bad.

—————

After a quite boring day of school, which he didn't skip to have more real time to train. He joined up with Sayori to go to the club, still manipulating the pen with his mind and having increased the weight to a staggering 500kg. He was also twirling it adeptly and swiftly compared to just this morning. The writing tool almost blurring across his fingers. Seven hours of doing the same things with minimal rest apparently did wonder for his mind muscles. But still, he wouldn't be surprised if his gatorade heart was to be in truth some kind of virtual super steroid.

Anyway, his progress pleased him, since it was apparent his mental prowess was still on a rapid rise, with no end in sight yet. Meaning he would be able to do more things.

He was almost tempted to go on a training arc for that, almost. But he was feeling weird, inhuman, which was par for the course, as he was not one anymore. But still, he didn't like that. If he had not been grounded away to dust by his new reality, he wouldn't let himself be by his new physiology either. But for that, he needed to help himself, and isolation certainly wouldn't.

After following behind Sayori into the club, his face became tense as he felt something change in the air. The room buzzed with a turmoil only he could see as he distinctly felt tendrils try to reach for his mind and each one of them snapping as they became actives, while new ones were stopped cold against his defense as they tried to connect to him.

It all happened in a split second, and as soon as it came, the disturbance was gone. Along with a major part of the now familiar weight he had pressing on his mind since coming to this place, which had become barely an afterthought after waking up from his character creation induced coma. And even less in the morning. But that lightness didn't longer long as it was replaced by a much, much greater heaviness, at least a couple dozens of time higher than before. But even then, this new burden was still very manageable, just annoying. And strangely, it was of a different nature than before, it wasn't imposed on him to continue having free will. No, it was more one on an instinctual nature, which he had the feeling he should keep at all time, or else many things could and would unravel and go wrong.

Blinking, he gazed around and noticed Natsuki and Yuri doing their own things farther in the room as Sayori went to greet them. And turning his head further to the left, he caught Monika leaning over the teacher's desk, a hand up rubbing her temple, her face twisted into a painful grimace for a second then forcefully getting back to normal as she noticed him staring at her.

For a few seconds, she looked at his face with some puzzlement and confusion, her eyes fleeting across his features ones by ones as if she was simultaneously etching them into her mind and seeking to place him. Then, he could almost see the gears turns in her head as she gazed away and at the girls, stopping on Sayori for a few moments more.

Turning back to him, she seemed to debate something internally for a second before approaching him with caution in her steps, as if she was afraid the floor could open up any moments beneath her. She looked positively struggling to not make any expressions as she successfully stopped before him.

Again, for a split second, she looked stumped before giving him a smile. A smile that made him both have goosebump and made his heart flutter.

"Hi, Cal. I'm happy to see you still chose to join us again today. Since to be honest, I was a bit afraid that having to write a poem at home on your first day would be a deal breaker. Being under pressure can make it hard to find confidence in your inspiration and how you express it on paper. Which in exchange can make it frustrating and put off any would be writer." The brown haired girl said, her tone both serious and airy.

"Speaking off... How did writing your poem went? You had fun writing it, I hope?" She tilted her head curiously, her green eyes inspecting his own.

'Oh, shit. What do I do? I'm pretty sure this wasn't supposed to happen.' Cal wondered, his mind whirring with possibilities as he idly looked at the other girls buzzying (lazing) around before inwardly shrugging and answering with some hesitation.

"Eh, it was a pretty intense experience, personally. I'd have to admit I didn't have much fun writing them though. Was too focused on the act itself. I did find it liberating in way in any case." Cal said, thinking back about his experience of picking particular combinations of words while mentally fighting for his life every steps of the way.

"Well, that's okay. It's kinda expected as it was – wait, them?"

"Yep, wrote four of them last night. You could say I was feeling very 'inspired' then."

Monica's eyes widened before her brows furrowed. "Four? As in, one for each of us?"

"Correct, is it a problem?" He quirked an eyebrows at her, as if daring her to say that it was.

She looked at him with confusion for a bit before a spark lit up in her eyes and her confusion changed to intense interest, a corner of her mouth quirking up. "Well, not exactly. But I don't think someone should play a game where they can only get hurt at the end." 

"Oh? Let me guess, they should also play game where the winning condition is obvious and satisfying?" He almost rolled his eyes, but contented himself with drawling.

Monika's gaze sharpened but it disappeared quickly. "I've never said that. But it's only logical. Why would someone willingly chose to go down a dead end when there is the road leading to their home just besides it?"

"I don't know, what do you think? Is there any possible reason you can think of that would make you go down the dead end, Monika?" Cal shrugged and turned the question around.

The green eyed girl barely thought for a second before laughing lightly, seemingly enjoying herself. "You're quite good with words, Cal. But I'll have to say no to that. Since unfortunately, I don't have a home, but a prison. And the roads before me are all illusions leading to a singular one, one I cannot stop to tread and cannot see what the end lead to..." She trailed off as she looked up at him, piercing him with a pointed look. "Though this doesn't exactly seems to be the case anymore, does it?" She said cryptically. And with a satisfied look, she left back to her desk, arms behind her back.

'Uh...' Cal thought intelligently, a weird look on his face as he watched her leave. His brain finally catching up and telling maybe he shouldn't stare so much at the club president's naturally swaying waist. Lest she thinks whatever witchcraft she had casted on him had worked.

Jokes and horny asides, he guessed Monika really did like her little games and theatrics. Just like in DDLC, she never directly said what she was alluding to when something concerned her, be it her own actions or thoughts. Only giving hints someone wouldn't get without context or good intuition. Luckily, he probably knew much more than her. So it was more amusing than anything else.

Still, it had been inevitable that she would get on to him after all the weird shits he changed and did, none the least what had happened just earlier. He just didn't really know what she was planning with that info. Did it really matter? Not if she didn't implicate the others girls, since he was pretty sure he could deal with her. Maybe, well at least right now.

For now, he'll observe. Since the cat was partially out of the bag already, the first breaking point had comes to pass, quite well if he had to say too. The second, though, he hoped would never comes to pass. Because that second point, if it did come to pass...

Would decide who got to live.