I've made nothing but mistakes, to the point I often thought my own existence was the same. Nothing but a glitch.
The start of my downfall was a single instance of weakness in middle school. Is what I would like to say... but it was a continuous lapse of weakness. Weak decisions placed atop a weak foundation until the entire structure caved in on me. The shrine that was my utopia brought to a crashing halt by my own hand.
I took on the stress of becoming someone else in all but feeling and I paid the price for it. I couldn't handle the stress, it was inevitable that the last threads of my patience would snap, and I would search for any outlet I could find to relieve myself.
And then... it happened.
Secrets don't exist forever. Why did I think the secrets I shared so easily behind anonymity wouldn't come back to bite me? Did I really not think the confessions I easily pulled from the mouths of others couldn't be traced back to me? I never took them seriously. Playing with fire, it was obvious I would be burned in the end.
The burns from that moment felt fresh in my mind, yet I still stared at the embers of new fire, entranced like a moth to the flame. Collecting those secrets like little matchsticks to add to the bonfire I planned on creating. Slowly, one at a time. Trust built up like a line of dominoes, carefully, deftly, one after the other, and then a single misstep... they would all come crashing down.
...
People are similar, the same in some respects. However, everyone is unique. That's what some might say. If you shrink the human experience down to its basic tenants then everyone's the same, that creates solidarity between us. However, if you examine people under a microscope that's when the real differences become apparent, that allows us to all believe we're the main character. It was the same tired hypocritical explanation that adults repeated.
What a load of shit.
I was everyone's friend. I knew intimate secrets about every person around me. It was precisely because of that, I can tell you now that people are worthless. They aren't unique. They are uninspired, vapid creatures that would sooner turn on their friends than admit to any fault of their own.
My interactions with them were all the same, to the point I felt like I was living the same day on repeat. No, not even the same day. Sometimes it felt like the morning, and afternoon mirrored each other. I often hypothesised how an interaction would change if I substituted some of the drones from my current entourage for another, and I found... very little changed.
In essence, I had lost all interest in my common man. I didn't believe in the commonality of friendship, of bonds that tied people together. How important could these bonds be if I could easily substitute the person before me for someone with a different name and past and the interaction still play out the exact same?
Even now while these inner thoughts play out, I curse myself for this exact reason. Even these thoughts of mine aren't unique, they're like the diatribe of a nihilistic kid. Dead set in their ways, not thinking but knowing, fully convinced that their ideas about the world are true. Regardless of whether they had the evidence to prove it.
Unlike those kids writing a sad and edgy soliloquy in their diaries, I did. I was the crystallisation of my own hypothesis.
I knew it was still anecdotal at best. But when did anecdote become hard evidence and rigid study? Was it after a few hundred people? A few thousand?
In my head I collated the stories of hundreds of students, as the years flew by the number would only increase. I often think to myself; why do I even do this anymore?
'Because I don't know any other way.'
I don a character. Because that was the most assured way to protect yourself from criticism.
If I were someone else and had seen me, the real me, not the false approximation that Ibuki had seen on the rooftop. But the real me... What would I think of that person? What would I say, knowing the person stood before me felt nothing but hate for me and everyone else they played friends with on the surface?
It was simple. I'd reciprocate that hate. An anger that would eclipse the version of me standing in front, the natural response.
I'd degrade my character, tell me I was a villain, a bitch, a bastard. I'd scream every last expletive under the sun in my direction until my voice was hoarse and my lexicon had run dry.
I'd ask me why I did it. Why did I even pretend to be their friend whilst slowly twisting the knife in their side? What did I even want their trust for? Did I go this far for a simple competition between classes? Did I want to ensure my graduation beyond any shadow of a doubt? For what possible reason could I have gone to such lengths?
...
And then I would laugh as the pathetic answer came forward.
'I don't know any better.'
I wonder... Would they think that I wanted to live like this?
Who would wish this stress atop themselves? It ruined my life, I tore my own hair out on occasion. I lost sleep. I didn't have any real hobbies or interests. I was in service to the character I played. That was my whole existence. I covered my essence in a blanket of beautiful lies so that I could be accepted.
...
It was the sort of answer you might expect from a child hoping for a parent to tousle their hair after misbehaving and get a slap on the wrist. Or told; 'Oh, you're such a menace!' In a joking tone as they both laughed disregarding the trouble they just caused setting it firmly behind them in the past.
I was unforgivable and yet despite knowing that I still continued. Because I truly didn't know a different way to continue living. Lie blended into truth and vice versa as I continued. For so long that I now wondered what a real me was like. I knew this was fake, that was definitive. But then what was the real me? The complete opposite of the person known as Kushida Kikyou as shown on the surface?
...
If there was one thing I was sure of, it was this.
People never truly change. Never.
That was something I kept with me, a realisation that stuck on the inside of my brain informing every decision I made. Whether it was the kids I grew up with or even family. They remained the same. They never truly changed. The essence of their character remained the same, even if they placed a thin veil over themselves, with the promise of something different. The only thing I could see was the seams holding that mask in place, wondering just how long we would wait for the cracks to form and the same person to peek their beady little eyes out from behind the façade.
People don't change. That's true.
Then why am I here?
"Kushida, are you sure this would look good?" The blue-haired tomboy that had become a fixture of my attention for the last few days spoke again, holding a dress with pastoral patterns and an inscrutable look on her face.
"A-Ah, yeah! It looks great, you should wear that!" I had almost forgot myself. It was bizarre enough that she had called me out for this. Honestly, it put me on edge. I could barely stop myself from flinching every time another customer entered the store.
"Are you sure? I mean it looks kinda... I dunno feminine?" Shut up and pick one already. You asked me here for this, didn't you?
"Hehehe, well you are still a girl you know?"
"Heh... That probably depends on who you ask."
"Leave it to me, Ibuki-san! I'll make sure you look stunning for the date." That's what it needed to be. Regardless of Ibuki's choices.
"SHHHH! It's not a date! We're just watching a movie... as friends... that's all."
"Of course! Silly me. Well, as friends it's good to show your vulnerable side to him now and again." This was the easiest way to drive a wedge between them.
"Really? That just sounds... awkward." She shoved the dress back onto the clothesline, shaking her head a few times as she did so. So difficult.
"It might be scary, but that's how you can tell he really cares for you, if he responds kindly to something you took a chance on."
"Cares for as a friend...?" Yeah, sure. Whatever makes you agree.
"Of course." I mean there wasn't even any difference between partners and friends in my eyes. Just the possibility of intimacy, that was like the only defining characteristic that differentiated them. "Now shoo! Go and try that on." I directed the girl into one of the stalls.
...
How long had it been since I had a real friend? Did I ever have one?
I should've. But I can't remember their faces or names. Ever since the birth of my hatred I can't remember anything but the constant desire to please the masses.
It's infuriating.
If I could, I would live any other number of ways. It had been so long that I had lost my North star and found myself wandering in the dark without any sort of guiding light.
I derived my own self-worth from others. Knowing that I was needed, that the entirety of the community relied on me, that they confided in me. I lauded my ability to get close to people because I couldn't compete in any other way.
I wasn't the smartest. Not for lack of trying, I studied every day and paid attention in class. I wasn't the fastest or strongest, no matter how much time I focused on exercise and training. I wasn't the funniest or the prettiest, despite constant research into these avenues. But none of it ever mattered. It felt like I was beaten without them ever breaking a sweat.
Geniuses. I hate them.
Just because I wasn't gifted from birth, just because I didn't get spoon-fed the world you want to look down on me? Annoying. It made the very blood vessels of my body tighten into a stranglehold turning my body cold.
I couldn't compete with them. And even if I did, it would no longer matter. Regardless of my victory or defeat, the past was the past. What was done was done. Even if I proved to be better and more capable now, it was worthless. Because the past was there to always remind of what I am. A failure. No matter how I try to change to justify myself.
In the eyes of the world that only care for the competent, I was unremarkable. Without their attention, how was I supposed to survive?
So I decided to become the most loved person. If I couldn't find that love in the natural places, then I had to find it elsewhere. If Kushida Kikyou was incapable of being loved by all then she had to don a new mask. A transformation borne from selfish desire, one that was always surface level. She who could be trusted above all else. An angel on the corrupted Earth. The fantasy was sold and so people bought it, with little resistance. Because what could this fallen angel gain from spreading compassion far and wide?
"...It looks weird, I'm changing back." I heard a mutter beyond the curtain.
"Hold on! Let me see first."
"...N-No. It's wrong, I'll just wear the usual."
"Ibuki-san. You called me here for this, you wanted to try something different. Didn't you?" Didn't you want to change?
"..."
"You don't have to buy that one. But it would help a lot if you could show me...?"
"F-Fine, but don't laugh." She pulled back the curtain revealing herself in a pastel dress. That wouldn't have been an issue well if... it was on anyone else.
It looked... frumpy. Like every single size one could measure was out of whack. It looked... frankly ridiculous. I couldn't stop myself.
"Pfft.... HAHAHAHA!"
"...Asshole." She shut the curtain immediately.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry. Ibuki-san... do you not know your size? Any dress will look like that if you don't know the measurements." What an idiot. I knew it, she's literally never wore anything like this. Perfect.
"Shut up... Urgh, I knew this was a mistake."
"It's alright. We'll just try again with some others. You won't know until you find out, right?"
"...Really?"
"Yeah! Every girl has to find out at some point. You're just finding out a bit later than most!" A lot later.
"I-I'll leave it to you then... Kushida."
"Of course! I'll handle it." So easy.
I continued to drag Ibuki along the shop's aisles picking bits and pieces for my plan to fully take form. This was good... but we needed another step to really seal the deal.
"Do you ever wear makeup, Ibuki-san?"
"Huh? Nah, why would I ever do that? Feels weird." I could accentuate her features with a bit, that would also make it much more obvious to outsiders...
"Hmm. Come with me!"
"Ah? You're stronger than you look!" I dragged her alongside to some of the cosmetics. A sampling area, how convenient.
"Hehehe, makeover time."
"...Don't you think this is a bit much?" She said as I pushed her into the chair.
"Not at all." I said with a few tools already in hand.
"...You aren't just going to make me look ridiculous, are you?"
"I've done my own makeup quite a few times. Can't be that much harder to do someone else's." I was actually pretty proud of my ability when it came to stuff like this. I was pretty dexterous, the amount of skills I had picked up in my time was one of the few positives of my act. Sewing and knitting with Inogashira at times just flexed the dormant muscle memory tucked away.
"I'll be in your hands."
"Yeah, just trust me." I dusted the faintest brush of foundation onto her cheek.
"...I do." The quietest of utterances under her breath.
...
Annoying.
...
Our shopping trip ended with a dress and some bits and pieces in our respective bags. Unfortunately, I couldn't get her to agree to the makeup. It was good enough. I just needed to take the next step. A couple misdirects and it would all be over.
I can't let dangers fester.
"Thanks... for your help I mean, Kushida." She said in a bashful way. Stop acting all cutesy, it's out of character.
"No problem, Ibuki-san. Good luck!" I waved and put on my best cheery voice as I watched Ibuki's back shrink in the distance.
You tested my beliefs Ibuki. Was it my words? Or is this just another shallow attempt at changing that wouldn't go anywhere? I didn't know. But it didn't matter. Even if it was my fault. It didn't alter my plans.
Regardless of how you feel about the 'real' me. You removed my one respite in this world... And I just can't allow it. As much as I wish I could be different. This is all I know.
I'd be watching that back disappear beyond those gates before long. I really hoped it wouldn't be the case...
But for both me and you Ibuki...
People can't change.
[Class C: Civil War]
Okay, don't freak out.
...
I'm not crazy, am I?
...
This really isn't going to plan. Not that there was a concrete plan in the first place... Life didn't work like that. What might've worked in a vacuum, in that place. It wouldn't fly here, that was what I prepared myself for.
To adapt on the fly.
...
But...
...
I can't help it.
This totally screams date... right?
"C'mon, A-Ayanokouji-kun! We should hurry up or we'll be late for the movie!" She's even adding honorifics!
She didn't even give me a chance to bring up what she was wearing. Not like it was bad or anything, it looked good. But it was a far cry from Ibuki's usual attire. She seemed like the sort of girl to not even own a dress. And yet...
The alien girl before me that might as well have been cosplaying Ibuki, smiled shyly whilst looking away, immediately bounding down the pathway towards Keyaki Mall. The pastoral sundress she wore tickled my heart slightly as the fabric fluttered in the spring breeze. The smell of lavender effervescing in the air. This is too far of an overcorrection...
Ibuki...
What the hell happened in just 24 hours?!
I'm so confused.
I had seen her just the other day and she was like usual... She was anxious about this get-together, but I thought that was it. I wasn't really prepared for an entire transformation. I can't imagine she did this all on her own... Kushida maybe? That's the most sensible guess.
This could all still be a trick of the light. Perhaps the way that the sun's refracted rays bounce are making her appear to have a bright smile. Not dissimilar to the haze and dehydration that makes the illusion of an oasis appear in the desert. Or perhaps Ibuki actually has an identical twin sister separated at birth who had just happened to run into me at this moment, and they decided to pull a prank on me.
The contrast was almost comical...
...This was not on the flow chart.
Did she suddenly grow these types of feelings for me overnight?
These types of feelings? What types of feelings are those?
Feelings. I had feelings once, but then they put me in a room. A white room. A room full of white. White makes me crazy.
Ah, no good. I'm spiralling. My head was a jumble of thoughts, each less serious than the last.
Maybe I'm just overthinking it. Yeah, that could be it. Just because she's dressed up, polite and inviting you to the movies and a café after, it doesn't mean it's a date. No, that's still a friend activity, especially on this island that has limited facilities. Yeah, it's just a friend thing. Renewing my resolve I took a deep breath to step forward before my hand was gripped tightly.
"What are you dawdling about for? C'mon!" She grabbed my hand roughly pulling me down the path alongside her. Her titanic power capsized in but a moment and that vice-like grip became much more restrained, as if she were holding something fragile in that small hand. I couldn't help but allow my vision to become magnetised to the hand holding my own and the strangeness of it...
Is she... is she wearing nail paint? It was faint, but they were a slightly darker shade of pink than one might usually find and the colour was consistent throughout.
My goose is boiled, fried, cooked, seared, steamed, roasted, and every other type of culinary method used against a typical farmyard creature.
...I need to calm down.
Don't get ahead of yourself. So what if she's showing more affection than usual? That just means we've gotten closer and more comfortable as friends. Yes, that's all it is. She just has a peculiar choice of fashion, perhaps she was so excited that she had put all her effort into finding the perfect clothes for the outing, resulting in this looking like more than a platonic meeting between like-minded friends.
I'm overthinking it. I'll just convince myself of that. Neither of us have friends so we don't know what that relationship would look like. We're simply fumbling through it one step at a time. That's all. We'll make missteps, we'll make mistakes, sometimes ones that might hurt one another. But so long as we have that other person beside us, we'll be fine.
That's what friendship is...
Right?
I kept reminding myself of those words whilst watching that fleeting smile. Wondering all the while if any friendship I held was destined for the same fate. Was human connection just another lie I would come to foster?
That lie might warm me like the blazing flames of a great bonfire, but was it worth it if that meant those around me would be hurt by the forest fire that might potentially spread?
If at the end of it all I felt nothing... Then I would leave a trail of charred trees in my stead.
...
It's pointless to ponder on what-ifs.
I didn't want to waste time, effort or the goodwill of others around me. That was precisely why I had to do what only I could...
To experience this moment, these moments, in their full clarity and think only about the person sharing this time with me. To try and let them in, hold them close, so that one day I can say it with the meaning dripping in every syllable...
Not a constructed argument, not logic or even coercion. But a statement. One with true emphatic feeling, one that reverberates through the air, one that says undoubtably; 'I care for this person.'
I want you to teach me, Ibuki. To learn together what exactly a meaningful connection is and whether I'm capable of such a thing.
Every step I've taken since coming here is for that goal.
Feigning injury and using your guilt against you on the bus. Waiting for you to come down from that rooftop on the first day. Noticing your sickness and waiting outside the school on the second day. Allowing Manabe to play her part in forcing us apart briefly. Forcing you to overcome the boundaries you set up even slightly, inch by inch. New defences would arise at every step, this was no different. This fake smile, altered behaviour, the imagined perfection of friendship and more, it was no more than an illusion. This I would break through as well, until I got to the very core of the person that was Ibuki Mio.
Until there was no boundary between the hearts, the bare essence of what we are as people revealed to one another. And then... There was just a single question I had. That answer was all I had to live for from this moment on.
...
A life that is decided for you every step of the way... There's no difference from being dead, it felt like someone else was in my own skin. The hands that controlled my marionette were cold and unflinching. In the face of that stern environment I had no choice but to relent and accept.
The person known as Ayanokouji Kiyotaka doesn't exist outside of this moment, this place. He can't. Anywhere else, I am simply an idea, an abstraction concocted by a great collective. A thought experiment on what the human mind can achieve. Statistical data, no matter how much of an outlier they may be. That's all I was.
That's why... your façade, your mask and that forced smile. They pose such a danger to me.
I'd strip them all away. And in the process reveal my own malformed existence.
I want someone to look at the real me and for me to look right back at them unafraid...
If you can't show me that...
What chance did I ever have?
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Word count: 3933
I really liked the last few paragraphs, but I apologise if it seems like an epilogue or something similar. Even as I was writing it, I was like 'this would be a pretty fire way to end it as like a short story or something', but don't worry, for those that want more, I intend to deliver.
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Hopefully you enjoyed the chapter, let me know your thoughts in the comments below.
Until next time.