Narrative of
Soul Against Wall
Kirito x Hakuei
Hakuei wasn't born special; through time and events that could not be helped, he just ended up that way. Most would say he's messed up in the head. They'd tell you he's beyond repair. At first sight, even you would think he has no hope. If only you could see him like I do.
Sometimes he talks to the walls. Not to anyone in particular, just the shadows that play along the surface. He doesn't give them names, but to him they are as real as anything. They're the only things that don't judge him, for they don't speak at all. They're the closest friends he has in the make-believe world he lives in.
He will talk to them about anything, and sometimes I find myself listening to him. His conversations would seem normal, if you didn't know he was talking to inanimate objects. You might feel pity for him, but if you really took the time to understand him, you would know Hakuei is happiest at times like these.
You can hear it in his voice and see it in the half hidden smiles he keeps to himself. He will talk for hours, until he can think of nothing else to say. Then at night, he puts himself to sleep with the serenity prayer;
"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; the courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference."
When he wakes in the morning, the first thing he does is greet the fairies that only he can see. He says that they don't speak and that they can't understand words, yet he always bids them a "happy morning".
After carefully selecting which mismatched clothing he would be wearing, he goes about his day with shaking hands and even more unstable legs. He sometimes stumbles and falls, or hits his hands against tables and walls just to make them stop trembling. When people look at him strangely, he proudly shows them the scars on his arms.
They are long healed, and there is pride in eyes for that reason alone, but people look right past it. They don't consider the fact that the scars have faded. They only see the dead veins under his pale white skin, and they suddenly think they know what is wrong with him.
"Oh," they often look him in the eye and say. "So that's it."
Hakuei never says anything back to them. He just walks away and whispers to himself;
"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change."
Those words are the pillars of his life. Without them, I don't think he could go on. Even in the private little world his mind has created for himself, he constantly struggles with reality. He bares the judgement of everyone around him, whether it is said to his face or thought quietly behind his back, and people have the nerve to wonder how he lost his way.