Literature Club: Return to their reality

Chapter 8: Reflection

We get our timing just right to find her drinking another cup of coffee after breakfast. As I enter the kitchen, knocking on the doorframe, she slightly scowls at me:

"Come on, I have a doorbell."

"I wasn't using the door."

"Lazy cheater."

"Optimizing hacker," I correct.

As we slightly lighten the mood, my companion comes in – wearing a fancy dress and a carnival mask. (We decided not to reveal her identity straight away.)

"Hello there..." she says rather quietly.

"You could have at least warned me before bringing guests," the lady of the house mumbles. "And you are late for the festival with all this fancy outfit."

So much for the greetings. Not in the mood? Or has she guessed right away!?

"How did it go?" the guest asks. "I mean the festival."

"Could've been worse. At least everybody is alive." Then, after a few awkward moments, the hostess adds, "Do you want some coffee?"

"Yes, please. Thank you."

"I'll pass," I reply, stating the obvious situation.

We take our seats around the small kitchen table – not saying a single word for a while. And they barely even sip their coffee. This is going to be difficult. What have I done?

My Monika (the one I brought with me) tries some half-hearted small talk: "I've heard you are the best student in your class, aren't you?"

"Not sure if that even matters anymore. Are you from around here?"

"Just haven't visited in quite a while."

The small talk dies out without properly starting. Even more awkward silence. And I'm totally useless at this. Finally, the masked Monika decides to drop the bombshell:

"Do you consider yourself innocent?"

The one in school uniform stares into her coffee cup for a few seconds, before answering:

"No. If not for certain someone's interference, I would have done the same things..." She raises her gaze and looks at the uninvited guest. "... the same things you did! Stop this masquerade! Did the two of you seriously think I wouldn't recognize another copy of my own code!?"

"Now I'm really starting to like you, little sister," my Monika replies, throwing the mask off.

"I should have guessed it!" She turns towards me. "The moment you gave me that poem, I should have guessed the one it's about, the one it's actually meant for is still around somewhere!"

"Which poem exactly?"

So she is aware of the poetry I kept in her folder.

With a defeated look on her face, Little Moni reaches for the internal pocket of her blazer – right next to her heart (there is an internal pocket there, right?) – and pulls out a carefully folded, if slightly crumpled from being squeezed there, sheet of paper.

Monika handing to Monika a poem that spells Monika. Monikaception.

And now I feel really sorry for this poor girl whose feelings I unintentionally played with. She truly believed I'm here for her, and I was just laying path for another. Another instance of herself. What have I done?!

Even my Monika gives her younger version a very compassionate look, after smiling at the poem.

"How long have you been together?" Little Moni asks.