Prologue

From Monotone

Have you ever had a moment in your life when the world just seemed to change? Not just something like seasons changing, or creating a daily routine? Something that is completely different from the lifestyle you previously knew, something you can feel. Like… the sun coming through the clouds after a particularly long storm? You get a feeling that the worst is over, and that the future is brighter than ever.

Well, for me that happened almost three years ago from today. I had a moment where the clouds seemed to part, if only for a second. And for a while, the future looked so vibrant compared to my previous, monotone-like lifestyle. But, I'm rambling, so I suppose I should start from the beginning.

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Lauren Dunois never came to school events. She said that things like Parent's Day were 'small and minuscule wastes of time that would only be forgotten later'. It wasn't just Parent's Day; any sort of event that I considered important weren't even acknowledged to her.

Then again… my mother never even acknowledged me as her own flesh and blood.

Most people my age could never imagine the sort of relationship I had with Ms. Dunois; we lived in different houses, we rarely met in public but when we did we had to act like we were complete strangers to each other, we even had different last names.

I wanted to hate her, but she was my only family. I've never met my father, he died before I was born, or so Ms. Dunois tells me. To me, a happy family was just as unreal as the fiction novel I was reading on that Parent's Day, three years ago.

Ms. Dunois's excuse this time, though she rarely needed to lie about her disinterest, was that she had a meeting to attend. One that could potentially give her a higher placement where she worked. I knew that this was a lie, since she was the founder of her own industry. I'm not completely sure this is correct, but I don't think you can rise much higher than that.

Back then, I couldn't make friends so easily. I just never saw eye-to-eye with what they saw as important; crushes, sports, friends and family. They were just things I've never could achieve. As a result, I was a loner. I sat at my desk by the window, reading my book. However today, not even my favorite novel could pull me from such a sinking feeling of despair and self-loathing.

The other students despised me, not openly of course, but I knew they envied me even when they shouldn't. I was at the top of my classes, school came so easily to me as playing the piano comes almost naturally to a pianist. Teachers have always praised me for my efforts, my absolute perfection with every subject they gave me, ignoring the others who were just as deserving. I didn't deserve to be at the top, I didn't work nearly as hard as the other, brilliant minds of my class had to. It wasn't fair to them… and it wasn't fair to me, since I never asked for such a gift.

I glanced up from my book and looked to the sides of the class, and observed the smiling, cheerful faces of my fellow students with their families, talking and laughing. I wanted to be jealous of them… but I couldn't. After everything my life has hit me with, after all the pain, the nights where I cried until I was dehydrated, I couldn't feel anything but the echoes of an empty shell. Such despair had caused the world to fade into monotone colors.

The only things I could feel now… was emptiness… isolation… nothing at all…

"Um… excuse me?" I felt a hand tap my shoulder lightly. The gesture came so suddenly I dropped my book from the surprise. It fell to the floor, landing face-down on a random page somewhere in the middle. "Ah! I'm so sorry!" I saw the person kneel down, and pick up the book. They held it out to me, and I looked up at their face. It was a boy from my class, one I had seen before but never really noticed until now, who looked at me with friendly, light grey-green eyes.

He was a bit taller than my other classmates, and a lot thinner as well. His hair was reddish-brown, and I noticed that it was starting to turn white at the roots. Also, his hair was rather messy, almost as if he had rubbed a balloon against his head, but at the same time it was well kept. His skin was pale, almost like porcelain dolls, a direct contrast with his hair color that made him appear almost ghostly.

But… despite that, I thought he was pretty. It's funny, I had never thought of boys as pretty as the word didn't really accommodate them. However, in this boy's case, it was the best word I could use to describe him.

"Oh, um… th… thank you…" I said quietly, stuttering. I took the book back, and set it on my desk.

"I'm sorry if I scared you…" He said, a bit awkwardly. "I just wanted to give this back to you." He held out a black fountain pen. "It rolled off your desk, and I didn't think you noticed it so…"

I stared at the pen for a moment. "Ah… that's…" I cleared my throat. "Thank you."

He smiled. "It's not a problem." He looked around the classroom. "Are… your parents here yet?"

"No…" I said, feeling my shoulders sink lower. "She doesn't like to come to these kinds of events."

"I see…" The boy said. "Well… My parents aren't here either, so you're not the only one."

I looked up at him, surprised. "Are they at work?"

He shook his head. "No…" He tilted his head up to the sky. "They're up there."

Dead. I wasn't stupid, I knew what he was talking about. Even so, it seemed harsh to just say something so ignorantly. "I'm so sorry…" I looked down. "Forgive me… for being so thoughtless."

"It's alright, you didn't really know." He said. "They didn't really come to these sort of things either so…" He shrugged.

"So it would seem we are in the same boat?" I asked.

"Yeah, that." He laughed, but it sounded airy and sad. "At least I know I'm not the only one."

I nodded. "So do I." I adjusted my dark-framed glasses. He held out the pen to me again. "No… um, you can keep it."

"What?" He looked at the pen, confused. "But it's yours isn't it? It looks really valuable."

"It's only a pen. I have an extra." I said. I was panicking internally, but I didn't want him to leave. Not when I just found out I wasn't alone. "Think of this as a badge, proving that we're not necessarily alone."

He looked down at his hand, in disbelief. "Wow… no one's ever done that for me before…"

I felt a pang of heartache for him. By the way he stood, and the way he spoke, his life must've been much more sorrowful than mine ever will be. "Consider this as a token of friendship."

His eyes shot up to meet mine. "Friends? Are we… friends then?" He looked both nervous, and hopeful.

I smiled. "You talked to me when I was feeling down, and you've been kind to me. I would think of someone who does that would naturally be my friend."

His face lit up. "Sorry, I've just… I've never really had a friend before."

"Neither have I, honestly." I replied. "So we're in the same boat as that. If we are in the same boat, then we might as well be friends."

"Y-Yeah." He said, looking at the pen again. "Is it really alright? To keep this, I mean?"

I smiled and nodded. "Go ahead."

That's when the change happened, this one boy somehow managed to chase away the dark, stormy clouds of despair, revealing a brighter sea ahead. For the first time, in a long time, I no longer felt like I was a hollow shell. I felt wholesome, the feeling of dread weighing down on me felt as though it had blown away with a gust of wind. The world lit up, chasing away the monotone colors, revealing a future with more light and colors than I ever thought existed.

I realized something, and held out my hand. "Forgive me, but I haven't introduced myself. My name is Rosalie, Rosalie Alcott."

He looked to my hand, and took it with his other hand and shook. His hands were also as pretty as his other features. They were a bit cold, but they were also both strong and gentle at the same time. "Nice to meet you, my name is Nagito Komaeda." He thought for a second. "Rosalie… that's a beautiful name."

I felt my face burn a little bit. "Oh… um… thank you… no one's ever said that…" I smiled a bit wider. "Your name is lovely as well."

Now his face was a bit pink. "Ah… th-thanks."

We both laughed, a bit awkwardly, but happily.

He let my hand go, and looked up at the clock above the board at the front. "The teacher won't be here for another few minutes."

I gestured to the desk next to me. "You can sit there until she arrives."

"Are you sure?" He asked.

I nodded. "I was hoping to talk to you a little bit more… if you don't mind, that is."

He smiled. "Sure!"