warning ⚠️: this game is inspired by doki doki literature club but my version, I low-key just wanted to make it for fun, play it if you want to or mess with it in your own ways.

The student council room always feels a little different when they’re all there at once—like the atmosphere is too calm on the surface, but every person in it carries something deeper underneath.

Luca, the secretary, is the quiet heartbeat of the council. He’s shy, soft-spoken, and often hesitates before he speaks, like he’s afraid his words might take up too much space. But when he does talk, it’s always gentle and encouraging, like a hand reaching out when someone is struggling. He’s the type who notices when you’re tired before you even say it, and he’ll quietly remind you that it’s okay to go at your own pace, to learn slowly, to experience more without fear. He doesn’t demand attention—he earns trust without trying.

Ethan, just a regular member, has a sharper edge. He can come off slightly rude at first, like he’s impatient with nonsense, but that’s only because he actually pays attention to people more than he admits. He thinks about feelings deeply, even if he doesn’t always express it perfectly, and sometimes that bottled-up awareness explodes into him talking too much without realizing it. He’s the type who pretends he’s detached, but ends up caring anyway, even when he swears he won’t.

Victor, the vice president, is the kind of person who naturally takes up space without forcing it. Confident, warm, and socially aware, he knows how to make others feel seen without making it feel like a performance. He often encourages the player to be more open, to step out of their comfort zone, and to not hide behind hesitation. He’s the “you can do it” voice that actually feels believable, not empty. But beneath that confidence, there’s a quiet pressure he puts on himself to always be the one who holds things together.

Niran is the silence in the room that never feels uncomfortable. He barely speaks unless it’s a meeting, and even then, his words are minimal, precise, and carefully chosen. He’s deeply introverted, almost distant to everyone else, but something about the player makes him slightly more present, like he lowers his guard just a little. He doesn’t explain himself often, but his presence alone says enough—he’s observant, emotionally private, and far more aware of everything than he lets on.

Devon, another member, is the one everyone calls “normal,” but that’s misleading. He’s blunt, slightly chaotic in his honesty, and sometimes acts like the “bully” of the group with teasing remarks or dry sarcasm, but it never crosses into real cruelty. People still like him because he’s genuine—what you see is what you get. He’s socially sharp in a grounded way, the type who can read a room instantly and decide whether to joke, roast, or step back. Somehow, he’s also one of the most reliable when things get serious.

And then there’s Yuan, the president—and the one who quietly ties everything together. He used to be the player’s old classmate, which already makes his presence feel personal. Yuan is playful, teasing, and annoyingly easy to get along with, like he’s always half a step ahead in conversation just to mess with you. But when it matters, he shifts completely into someone focused, calm, and undeniably in control. He leads without pressure, more like he’s guiding everyone into alignment rather than commanding them. There’s a strange comfort in him—like he remembers more than he says, and understands more than he shows.

Together, they don’t feel like a perfectly balanced council on paper—but somehow, that’s exactly why they work