Disclaimer- I do not own any part of 'The World Ends With You'.
A/N- This is a post-game Shiki-centric fic written in her POV, I really loved her storyline in the game, her uncertainties about herself is the starting point of this story. Enjoy.
Synthesis Of Self.
Chapter 1 Discontentment.
Pleasant. There is really no other word for this.
I'm in Shibuya, but that's not entirely unexpected, or extraordinary in any way. After all, I live here, I've always lived here. To be perfectly honest I know this place better than I know myself.
However it is not the time for such negative comments, the truly remarkable thing here is me. I feel so strange. A good strange though.
So impalpable and just...sort of ...float-y.
It's an exquisite feeling really, to be this unearthly. As though the taut and course ties which were binding me have suddenly broken. I see myself, a vaporous, gossamer being fluttering off in a light breeze.
I look down at my translucent limbs oddly, this is more than just a feeling.
I flounce down the street through convenient paths in the usual masses of undistinguishable faces. Ghostly and tenuous as I am, I weave around them without arousing the slightest of glances.
I arrive at scramble crossing as destinationless as ever. I turn to spin around, by means of choosing a direction and I suddenly see that I am not alone.
I have two companions. Eri on one side and me, the old me on the other. Beautiful auburn locks flutter serenely while the adjacent face forms into a tortured look. It is then that I realise I am neither girl. Not anymore.
Message received from
Rhyme
At 14:30
Hi Shiki! Guess you couldn't make
it today huh, you must be pretty
busy, don't worry we understand.
Hope you can come next Saturday
We miss you!
I stare blankly at the bright screen of my mobile, the only source of light in my room as I have yet to get out of bed to draw open my curtains. Although thin cross sections of light have infiltrated the room, revealing the startlingly bright day outside.
It's sunny then, that's good. They must have had fun, the three of them. Perhaps they went to the park, bought ice cream, sat under a tree, shared more about themselves, the things friends should be able to tell one another. I try to picture myself there with them, where I should have been and fail.
The clock on my nightstand tells me that the better half of the day has past and that I should be ashamed for still being in bed. Despite this nobody has attempted to rouse me and as far as I know the only human contact I have received all day was a short text message a couple of hours ago.
I am not surprised, my parents have been giving me my 'space' and more so ever since my miraculous reappearance.
I don't blame them, they must be terribly confused. One minute their child dashes out the front door for school and then BAM!...literally. She's dead and never coming back. Except that she does come back, albeit three mournful weeks later with a pitiful explanation and a bleak mood.
My story for them was short and vague, with hints towards convenient amnesia and the after affects of shock to hastily cover the more ludicrous points of my disappearance. Ones which I am sure my parents are just yearning to ask.
But they want to be good parents, the ones that don't push and nag. Besides, it's hardly an apt conversation starter- "So Shiki dear, it's wonderful that your back and all but uh.. why don't you have any scars from this near fatal car crash?".
Eri has been a little less complacent.
I feel as though I could sink back into the pillows again, despite having spent practically all day in bed. It's been like this pretty much since returning. Besides the first few days of tearful reunions and fanciful tales, I've divided my time equally between a half-hearted attempt at a normal life and my ethereal, confusing dreams.
I've suppose I've done a lot of hiding recently too. Hiding from Eri's questions, from my parent's lack of and from them, my fellow returnees.
It wasn't supposed to be like this, we were meant to stick together even after our very existence depended on each other. Even Neku, our resident lone wolf had agreed to this. We were so enthusiastic in the beginning, me in particular. Who would have thought I'd be the weak link.
But I had learnt that after the buzz of cheating death had dissipated I was, in fact as doubtful and confused about who I was as ever.
Sure I may have realised that I'm not Eri, I don't want to be Eri, I want to be me. If only I knew who that was.
Well whoever I am, it's nothing like the old me either, they knew that too. I remember the first time meeting up after our homecoming, they could sense my discomfort in my old body. Not that they were entirely comfortable with it either. I spent our time together self consciously, as though I could hear their thoughts, who is this girl? Where's Shiki? Where is the trendy, pretty girl from before?
Every sideward glance translated into a gripe in my head. I can't bear to face any of them now, knowing that I might disappoint them.
I getting pretty sick of this room now, it's a Saturday so there's no school and downstairs there is only my mother and her wordless inquiries. Eri's most definitely vocal ones rule her out and by the same principle most of my other friends. So by process of elimination I shower, get dressed in my usual plain attire and head on into the world outside alone.
If I thought the sun was bright inside my dingy room, it's damn near blinding now. I squint a little as I step out of my house and begin to quickly walk to nowhere in particular.
I look up and across as I walk, noticing advertisements that I am ordinarily oblivious to. The streets are especially crowed today, as people who are free from commitments such as school and work are taking the chance to enjoy themselves.
I pass groups of giggling schoolgirls, so obviously happy and self assured that I have to turn away and change direction. I find myself staring at a familiar place, a clothes shop I have been to many times before. I suppose subconsciously that I have been following the routes to my old haunts.
Without anything better to do I step inside although I've been feeling a little more blasé about my passion recently. I ignore the slightly critical look from the salesperson, I suppose without the über stylish Eri along side me, my purpose here is less certain. In my commonplace clothes I was practically committing sacrilege here. The clothes sold here were the kind that my friends and I coveted. Their bold colours and imaginative designs made them into a hugely popular store.
In spite of all this I flicked through the racks uninspired. The clothes were beautiful, but nothing felt right. It was like I was trying to find something that didn't exist. Too many pleats. Wrong color. Too long. Not long enough. Ugly collar. Bad shape. Ugh!
I storm out incredibly frustrated and not quite knowing why.
I arrive back home having spent only around half an hour out in natural sunlight, well that's my quota done for the day. I rush upstairs again and successfully avoid being spotted by my mother.
I breath a sigh, when did I become such a recluse? It's not like I suddenly dislike all my friends or have given up my dreams, but I just feel so...incomplete. I can't muster up any enthusiasm for anything lately.
At least when I was bitter and busy idolizing Eri I had some form of self awareness, I was as much like Eri as I could be, by aspiring to be her it felt as though I was somebody, her. And now...
I look around my room desperate for some kind of distraction. Impatiently yanking away my curtains I reveal my walls, completely covered in pictures torn out of magazines. Elegant designs, flowing fabrics of all types surround me and I think back to the clothes shop.
As wonderful and stunning as many of the clothes were nothing seemed right. Clearing my desk I find a sketch notepad and a pencil. I picked up the pencil, hovering it over the blank page...and nothing.
I remembered previous attempts at designing, in the past it was merely a case of what Eri liked, I liked. Her preferences were immediately copied onto mine, replacing whatever feeble images preceded them.
I screwed my eyes shut trying to remember the few moments back in the game, in the rush of it all, the small amount of time where I was so sure that I could finally be myself.
I press pencil to paper and watch myself begin to form on the page.
A/N- I have to say, I am not very happy with that dream sequence.
If you have any questions about the story please do ask away, sorry but I've just written all of this kind of on a spur of the moment and it's currently two in the morning (luckily it's a Saturday) and I apologize for not giving any proper explanation. I would really love to hear what you thought.
