Kaname pulled off her jacket and threw it across the room. It missed the chair she’d been aiming it but she didn’t bother to pick it up. Fuck it. She grabbed her necktie and pulled it free, dropping that as well. Fuck it all. She kicked off her shoes, undid the top two buttons on her light-blue shirt, and threw herself forwards onto her bed without further ceremony. Everything hurts. Her aching body served as an extremely irritating reminder of… everything. She stared at the pillow as if it had personally offended her. Wonderful. Just… wonderful. All this time and she’s just been using me so shamelessly, and laughing at me. I’m pathetic, she says, stupid, irrational…she has no bloody idea what I feel like even to be in the same school as Amane. She never knew how much she hurt me, as well, or even worse, she did know and she does know and she doesn’t give a damn. I dared think that we were friends, perhaps, and I wanted to ask. But how much can I know about Momomi?In her cosy little world we’re all just chess pieces. Ha. That’d make me a queen. But I’m sick of being kicked around by a stuck-up bitch that just sits there behind everyone else. I’m through. I’m through with it.
It was too early to go to bed, too late to have any classes to go too, and she couldn’t face going to the Church right now. Going outside to face people would be even worse than having to do homework. Above all, she couldn’t face Momomi right now. She just couldn’t bear it. She felt awful, and she just wanted to escape into the arms of slumber, but her body, while weary, wouldn’t let her do that. It was sickening. What is this feeling? It’s like…my every muscle has been attacked by a swarm of angry locusts, shredding them to little pieces. And now they’re trying, like a raped field of barley, to cling and regrow. But for that, they need sustenance, and I can’t face eating because they’ve made a nest of my stomach and are swarming around. Like they’re tearing it up and freezing it at the same time, and my chest too. It must be the sheer exhaustion of it. But they’re in my brain as well, in spirit if not a literal presence, and it’s absolutely impossible for me to rest. Because even if the physical attack was bad, what’s running through my head… by comparison, it’s as if the locusts have been dipped in molten silver while clinging to life somehow, at least long enough to set my mind on fire. Something like that? She snorted. No, nothing like that. That doesn’t even make any bloody sense. For once, her mental tangents weren’t much consolation. And they recalled this afternoon far too much, and days before, every time Momomi mocked her about how she spoke. When I look at it, she’s always been arrogant. I just didn’t want to see her words for what they are.
She wanted to hurt someone, break something, let out the enormous frustration she was feeling. But she was too tired, too exhausted, too apathetic and… miserable to allow herself such an easy escape from her feelings. She was in a state of conflicting emotions and urges. I want to see Momomi, to scream at her, shake her, hurt her… to apologise, to try to explain, to beg for forgiveness. I don’t want to see Momomi, I’d rather stay here and avoid the girl. Because I’m too angry. Because I’m too ashamed. I can feel the essential truth of Olesa’s words, and I heard clearly the message Olesa had sent me to prove exactly what Momomi is. I see the way Olesa said what she damn well pleased and manipulated me freely to screw with my head. I hate Momomi for her presumption, the casual emotion she used to control me. I hate Momomi for the way she’d surrounded herself by others, and made the battle that had been a personal thing, a tie between us, a matter for so many people I hate. I relish those moments where in the slip of a word, the concern she showed, a gentle touch, Momomi would speak to my soul. I despise it when my body trembles instinctively, when I’m happy to be called a friend, when we come closer, I feel my stomach crawl when I realise just how vulnerable I’ve become. But I also love the way that I could never be safe inside myself around Momomi. I hate the way Momomi spoke about my help as if it was guaranteed, and liked it too, because I wanted to be useful just as much as I feared being used. I… trusted Momomi. I didn’t trust Momomi. I never know what could be real in a girl who could be anything. I never knew whether Momomi’s admissions were a drop of the mask or a mask beneath a mask. I never knew whether I could trust anything the girl ever said, or whether it was all lies within lies. I was glad, even in pain, that I was being that suspicious. I also hated myself for being so painfully trustless. It was impossible.
Kaname threw herself forwards again, crushing her pillow beneath an exceptionally angered forehead. Her whole body was soaked, but still burning through, as if she’d caught a fever. Perhaps I have. I wouldn’t be too surprised. That’s her fault. Everything’s her bloody fault, it makes me sick to death! Leaving me in the rain to go play her games with Olesa, talking down at me, manipulating me, using me as one of her weapons, it’s impossible for me to forgive her! I hate her! What right has she to say those things? How dare she even speak a word after what she did to me? She called me immature and pathetic? What the hell is she, then, that brat? I should have gone even further, I should have told her everything, walking away was far too good for her. I remember everything, of course, everything I said and everything she said. How is it mature to fight your own father petulantly like that, with that first explosion of pointless rowing, and needing me to baby-sit her and tell her to swallow her own stupid pride! Heck, why the hell is she staying at this school anyway? Just to spite her parents and prove that she can? And she calls what I feel a pathetic rivalry! It’s just too hypocritical! And all her stupid dreams and pretences, they’re too annoying! At least I’m not deluded, I know my place in this ugly school. But she’s just so arrogant she thinks she’s the best person in the world, and she thinks she can use people freely. Well, I’m through! I won’t be used any more!
Kaname felt her chest throb painfully, repressed anger and pain striking her as an almost physical force. It was maddening, incredibly frustrating, a force that made her want to scream or fight and hurt someone for the sheer hell of it or trash her room or find Momomi and break her beautiful face, take her and hurt her and hurt her until she was screaming for release. But if her anger was molten rock, spraying up furiously, the feeling that filled her whole body underneath it all had to be called ash. It made her feel fragile and empty inside. Isn’t it easier to say what I’m not feeling? I’m so angry, with everyone and everything. Kariya for intruding on everything as if she’s justice incarnate. Serané for thinking she knows everything and everyone. Amiki for hurting me and because she’s herself. But what I hated her the most for before… it was because she’d hurt Momomi. Now I’d hold her coat. Or would I? I might stop her all the same, but is that because Amiki is Amiki, or is it because Momomi is Momomi? Olesa. I’m angry with her because she’s a scheming little bitch who tries to make black white. But I listened to every word she said, and now I have to believe in her if I can believe in myself, at this point. And that’s impossible. And Momomi…she used me. She used others as much. She came closer to me. She’s becoming distant as she’s around others. She’s my enemy, who manipulates me at every turn. She’s my friend who’s throttling me with a closeness I can’t deal with. They’re all reasons. It makes no sense. As for the rest…jealousy, hate, fear, doubt, confusion, paranoia, overconfidence, too much pride, so much shame…I don’t know anything, I don’t feel anything that can be certain, except pain. Pain and that very uncertainty itself. And it’s all because of her, her, her! This is all her fault! I never want to feel this way again!
And, something she could only admit to herself in this time and this place, where everything was broken, she was terrified. Terrified that she was wrong. Terrified that she was right. Either possibility could shatter her. Kaname’s fists balled at the realisation, then she began to laugh, a low and harsh sound. It was almost funny. I’ve fucked up. Head over heels. I couldn’t have done this any worse if I’d tried. Because I ran away and left it unfinished. One way or the other. Her explanations, or her last excuses, the last things I had to say to her, the last thing she had to say to me, they’re all left behind. And now I wish I’d stayed, if only to wring her stupid girlish neck one more time and scream my feelings and my hurts, but I fled and now it’s too late. If we’d seen it through, if we’d settled it, I could live with that. But not with this. Story of my fucking life. I always screw up the important things, every fucking time. But has it ever been as bad as this before? Her and me both, we’re just too fucked up to believe. Now she wanted Momomi to burst through the door and yell at her, rip her to shreds and make them both shout and cry and suffer until everything was better. One way or the other. But that wasn’t going to happen. Nothing that convenient was going to happen. She’d left Momomi behind, alone and crying in anger and hate, and there was no knowing when she’d be back. She didn’t know if she’d ever be back. Because Kaname had been so completely wrong that the girl would never forgive her. Because she’d been so completely right that the girl saw no point in coming back. She didn’t know. She didn’t know. That was worse than everything else put together. After all this, still… nothing is settled, after all. I should have known better than to think that a mere shouting match could solve anything.
Kaname bit her lip, clamping down on her feelings and trying to reassert her limited rationality. But it’s fine. I’ve been through worse betrayals, I’ve betrayed people more completely. I’m strong. I’ll just move on. It might feel like a living hell now but it’s just one argument with one girl. Time will seal any wounds, for both of them. If I’m not sure whether I can trust Momomi or not, it’s best to leave it be. I’ve been hurt too many times before, I’m in too much pain now, to justify the risk. I just have to step away and let that be that. Momomi can get a new room, a new sidekick, a new rival, a new protector, a new confident, a new… friend, or something that she could call friendship, at least, which might well be servitude. Kaname smiled ironically. Nothing like this would slow that stubborn bitch down. I know that. Momomi has been held back already, because I’ve never been her tool, not totally. I know I have no love of the world Momomi wants to enter, I’ve got no desire to play with people and power and influence and personality, no wish to pretend for a faraway cause and talk “business” and suck up to the Etoiles. And because I’m like that, I won’t pretend any more. There was never any point, but least of all, for her, that would make no sense at all. Better that Momomi go ahead alone, because I can’t stand her any more. Better, perhaps, that it has ended like this, before she lead me even further and hurt me even more. She chucked softly, weakly, looking at the clean white sheets with distracted red eyes. These were things I learned to say when I was far too young, so many times over. Somehow they’ve brought me here. What a world. What a life.
There was nothing for a while after that, and Kaname dared hope she could leave it like that, let that be and remain. Anything to prevent the swirling thoughts in her head. But even when she put her head on the pillow and tried to rest, her mind betrayed her, dragging images she didn’t want to see and reflections she didn’t want to have, until for the first time in a long time, free of distractions, she could think and realise all the unwelcome things.
That’s the thing. I’m not fooling anyone, least of all myself. Kaname buried her face in the covers of her bed, feeling her face burn with anger, shame, frustration, all over again, again and again. I don’t want her to leave me. That’s what this is about, as much as anything else. I can’t forgive a Momomi that spends time with anyone but me. I can’t bear the idea of a Momomi who is popular and loved by everyone. I can’t stand it when she banters with Amiki and Olesa the way she talks to me. I can’t help but hate her and myself whenever she talks to Shion, Kariya, Serané, as people she understands, people she takes an interest in, people to spend time with for more than merely their mission. Whatever she says, they’re not just tools. It’s just a lie she tells herself and me alike. And I’m not a tool. I don’t think I can bring myself to believe that, even if it’s true. But when I say I hate her, when I say she’s my enemy, when I deny everything they say, I’m lying through my teeth, lying to them, her, myself, shamelessly. Because I like Momomi. I don’t want to have to admit that, but I have to admit it now. I can’t lie any more. I can’t lie to myself but it’s absolutely impossible for me to tell the truth to anyone else. That cuts so deep I can’t bring myself to stand. And the truth might just be that I want Momomi all to myself. Just like a child. She took a long, ragged breath, lips curling ironically. So, just like I child, I throw my toy out of the pram. If I can’t have everything, I’ll take nothing, just to spite her, even though it hurts her and myself. I never learned to do anything but take everything I wanted, and when I can’t, I just destroy. That’s the nature of a creature that has no right to life.
But all the same, everything’s all her fault. Perhaps she could never have been the kind of friend I wanted, perhaps she could never have given me everything, all her waking moments, smiles and kind words, as I wanted her to. Perhaps no one can give someone like me that. But the way she treated me, we can’t even drift apart with grace. I could have accepted it, with time, the fact that she had more important people, more important things, which she had to deal with. I could accept her leaving me behind. But like this… there’s no grace in it. There’s nothing I can accept, nothing left. She was using me all along and that’s all there ever was to it.
Kaname stayed there for a few more moments, tasting her own despair, then forced herself up on uncertain arms, turning over and looking at the ceiling. But I’m not weak. I won’t cut my own wrists or lay here and die. What would be the point in that? Perhaps I don’t deserve to live, perhaps I’ve screwed up everything I’ve ever done, but I am here. That hasn’t changed. Even if it’s only to spite her because she almost crushed me, but I’ll move on. I’m strong, and I know what I should do. I should go and find her. Whatever it takes. No matter how much it tears my pride to pieces, however hard she makes it for me, however hard it has to hurt. To settle it, even if we have to break each other apart until there’s nothing left at all. That’s something I have to do. But… I know I can’t do it. Not right now. Not like this. I’m too tired. Too ragged. Too confused. Too weak. It’s an ordeal I have to go through, but I can’t face it. Not right now. So I’ll put it off and off and off. Perhaps forever. I know all this. But nothing changes.
If Momomi had been there, she’d have said a lot of things. She’d have taken that jacket she’d thrown aside and folded it neatly and taken it away, and fetched a spare from the office, and chided her gently and criticised her with that soft, motherly tone until Kaname had thrown herself into the shower and stayed there long enough to satisfy the fastidious, fussy girl. Then she’d have gone to wash herself, and come back with her hair soaked and a smile on her face, making Kaname comb her hair. And then, perhaps, they’d sit together at the desk that doubled as their dresser and started their homework, complaining about the pointlessness of their assignments and racing to outdo each other on advice and ambiguous but intelligent-sounding points. They only ever handed in work to their potential when they had time to do that, their prides motivating them to excel. And once that was done, they’d retire gracefully, perhaps talking a little before they went to sleep, about teachers or students or their parents, or just enjoying their silence. It’s disgusting that I got used to that. What’s worse is that it might all have been a lie. Kaname’s face contracted into a melancholy frown.
What are you to me, Momomi? What am I to you? Can I ever trust you? Can you ever trust me? Who’s betrayed? Me? You? Both of us? And what’s the future for us? Kaname smiled again to cover the sickness that ran through her body. I don’t know, Momomi. I don’t know. And I’m far too afraid to find out.
I messed up. I said everything I said, and acted as I did… somehow, on some level, I’d hoped that Kaname would believe in me, for myself. But I suppose that would be stupidity on her part, which isn’t something I should wish on her or expect from her. I am a person who controls people. By doing that, I can make things happen. But, in return, and in return for the shelter that offers me from pain and fear and loss, I have to expect this. It’s impossible for someone to accept me forever, knowing who I am, because they can never know whether they know me. So, why? Why am I so mad? Why am I so hurt? It’s naïve to think that I could ever have a normal friend, least of all with Kaname. She’s socially hopeless… and I’m no better. I know that. I’m not stupid. Now that I can view this with the cold light of my logic, it should be both inevitable and acceptable. But it’s unforgivable. I don’t know why, but it is. I don’t want to accept a result like this. So what that means is clear. I should rush in and wrest a proper answer from Kaname. I should fight. That’s what Kaname herself would do.
But that doesn’t make it the right thing to do. I know that even if Kaname’s gratifying her own feelings she can hurt me…I hate to admit that she can hurt me, least of all now, but that’s true. It’s in her nature to charge ahead without thinking, ostensibly for others, but always for herself. She’s so arrogant, so self-centred, so thoughtless. It’s a strength I can only imitate. But… I can’t be sure, any more. And… I still can’t forgive her. I’m angry, upset, betrayed, even if Olesa said what she did and arranged what she did and used my own words against me like that it’s Kaname hurt me. I reached out for her in all sincerity and she cut me away. It’s impossible to just stay and accept that. I may be myself, but I didn’t deserve that… not in my heart. I may have misjudged her but she’s done far worse, and if I run back to her and beg forgiveness for something I haven’t done, it’s far too futile and pathetic. That’s not a relationship where we can be called equals, any more. That’s so ironic… she saw herself as the inferior, or she thought I was trying to make her that. But, because I called her friend when she said foe, because I clung to her where she merely tolerated me, because she can push me away now and I feel this pain, she was always above me. What is between me and Kaname? I thought I knew, I thought it could be called friendship. No, perhaps even more than friendship. But in the end, that was just a deluded child wishing again. The view that’s “she” and the view that’s “I”… it’s probably impossible to reconcile them.
And ultimately I’ve been let down again. Isn’t it the same old story, over and over again? I’m such a brat. I don’t see people for what they are, but for what I want them to be. That’s what I call my friends. That boy in my past, the bastard who brought me here in his indirect way… it’s just the same. He betrayed too and hurt me badly, but Kaname…what she said was painful, her outright rejection is too hard to accept. It’s not something I can face. I should have known. No one can stand anyone like me, someone who has no real character, someone who appears to be what they want me to be, but once they’re past that reflection… what am I? Someone who manipulates and uses everyone she touches. It’s not an image that could captivate anyone. My stupidity is to let people see that image, over and over again. So screw it. I’m sick of it. Perhaps I’ve learned my lesson this time, perhaps not. But it can’t go on this way. For me. For her. All the same, I…I… want to close my eyes and pretend this isn’t happening. I want there to be a misunderstanding, an accident, a coincidence, something, something I can change with sincerity and not lies piled on lies. I don’t know anything at all.
Suddenly, she was angry again, slamming her palms against the ground. What the hell am I talking about? Am I really this weak and pathetic? This doesn’t have anything to do with me! This is all Kaname’s fault! Why should I care, even, if she’s screwed up this badly and mistook me like this? Even if my feelings were sincere, it’s worthless if she won’t hear me out! It’s that child’s way of hers, to snap at me and shout and exert her will because it makes her feel strong when she thinks she’s being weak, so she just doesn’t listen because it might destroy some part of her precious world view! It’s just so feeble and weak! It’s just… how bloody vulnerable she is, it’s so stupid! Why should someone so strong be so pathetic the rest of the time, so she has to hide her weakness behind that stupid mask? But she’s just so afraid of being hurt, it’s so much cowardice…Momomi looked down again. I wish I could say I was any different. But I am different, a little, at least I don’t do that, at least I… at least I listen! Even after listening to her for so long, she doesn’t even give me a chance to explain myself at all. That’s… what seems so wrong. It isn’t- fair. It isn’t fair that it should end like this.
And then… and then, there’s her. That bitch. She’s the one who ruined everything, damnit! This is all her fault! I’m going to… I’m going to…I don’t know what I’m going to do with her, but it’s going to be painful! Momomi finally forced herself up. Her face was still sticky with her tears, so she pulled out her handkerchief and wiped her eyes gently, ignoring the slight tremble in her fingers. Of course, it was already wet, the moisture unpleasant on her skin, but she ignored that as well, stuffing it back in her blazer pocket and walking towards the Church. Her step was unsteady, slipping on the sodden earth. More than once she had to support herself on a tree to keep herself from falling. This damn sodden ground. It’s just too slippery. What the hell kind of weather is this? She staggered on, pulling a lock of hair out of her eyes with a distracted hand. She barely noticed the ground she was walking over, the forest surrounding her, even when rain dropped down from the trees and splashed on her head. She just concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, moving in an almost trance-like state. It wasn’t that she didn’t take anything in, but somehow none of it took root, passing through her eyes and out down her spine to her feet without ever touching on her mind. Kaname would probably find a funny way to say that. She does that. She sighed, shaking her head as if to dislodge such troublesome thoughts. Everything is miserable, in this half-arsed cold, wet, slimy weather.
And, somehow, she was there, in front of the Church. People were beginning to come out, now that the rain had stopped, heading back to the dorms or the library or their clubs. For all this school’s religious rhetoric, God needs to rain down hard before half the students set foot here on a weekday. Pretty funny, really. And none of them noticed her, of course. They were far too busy with their own conversations and their own little worlds. People could look but not see, so easily. And as I am, they’ll look freely, but they won’t see. If they see they most take responsibility, and no one wants that. Least of all me. She pushed open the door, trying to work out what exactly she was going to say as she strode forwards, fists balling. “Olesa!” The girl gave her a puzzled look and something snapped. The sight of the mousy-haired girl standing there, looking so innocent, with her mop in hand and Amiki dark-haired and strong next to her, made her blood boil. How dare she! How dare she look so perfect, so untainted, so careless of my anger and my pain! I won’t forgive her! “Olesa! You bitch, I’m going to bloody kill you!” she shouted. There were words and stares and whispers round her, but she could barely perceive them. Her sight blurred as she ran straight down the aisle. “How dare you, how dare you, how dare you do that to her! I’m going to kill you for it!”
Amiki moved instantly, surging forwards and almost tripping her. Momomi screamed and fought back, biting, scratching and kicking with everything she had. She was crying again and she hated herself for that weakness, but she didn’t let up, all words lost in her frustration. Olesa said something and Amiki had just nodded once, holding her at arm’s length and bearing with the pain without fighting back. There were shouts and running and all sorts of noise, but it was all so irrelevant. Momomi’s eyes were locked on Olesa’s, the dark orbs widening slightly in shock. There was nothing else in the world. She has no right to look surprised! How can she stand there as if she sincerely misunderstands? How can her eyes widen like that and her mouth open and her whole body stare when everything’s all her fault? What right, what right has she to do that? Who the hell is she? This…”This is all your fault, this is all your bloody fault, you’ve ruined everything! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! Get the hell off me!” She tried to shove Amiki out of the way. The girl ducked aside then slapped Momomi hard, a ringing blow that sent her staggering back. She was saying something, but Momomi couldn’t hear, her ears were ringing and she just didn’t give a damn. She recovered her balance and made to move forwards again, but suddenly strong arms wrapped round the back of her neck. She kicked and screamed petulantly, trying to break free, but it was all in vain. The person grabbing her didn’t move, even after her she threw her head back, doing everything she could to shake herself free. Her eyes met Olesa’s again. I’m not going to accept this. I’m not going to take an end like this-
The strong arms were wrapped round her, now, and they hugged her from behind, drawing her into a tight embrace. Momomi looked over her shoulder at last, daring to hope, but the hair was blonde and the arms held her far too long, and far too easily, for that to be true.
“That’s enough,” Serané murmured, closing her eyes momentarily. “That’s enough, Momomi-chan, right?”
“Let me go! Let me go, goddamnit! Let go of me!” Momomi’s voice broke as Serané hugged her tighter, and suddenly she was crying, just crying.
The world was still noisy, details passing through her consciousness like shooting stars. Kariya shouting something, stilling the remaining students in an instant. Shion hovering awkwardly, wanting to help but not knowing her place, not knowing what to do in a situation like this. Amiki’s lips locked into a small, puzzled frown, and Olesa with her eyes still wide and glittering with a something Momomi couldn’t understand. Serané leading her away, whispering comforting nonsense while still holding her warmly, her face sad and impossibly understanding. That expression should have maddened her, but Momomi couldn’t spare any feeling for that. She didn’t have any strength at all, any emotion, any force to care about anything, so it was fine to be lead. It was all chaotic and ragged, but somehow, it should have been comforting. Serané’s warmth and soft scent and immeasurably gentle words should have been enough for that. The picture was wrong, though, and Momomi screwed her eyes shut and tried to block the very thought out the moment she knew what was missing.
There was no Kaname to see, no Kaname to care. She was alone.
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