Content Note: depression, past suicide attempts (under mind control) alluded to.
This is a continuation of oneshots I have previously published, Retrospective Days and the lonely façade of perfection. You don't need to read the former to understand this, but I feel not you probably need to read the latter (Be aware that it's rated M, because, well, you remember what happened to Hitomi in Episode 4).
I own nothing.
Hitomi maintains nothing but the foggiest of memories of the short time in which she had tried to kill herself. She recalls the acrid smell of chemicals and an overwhelming despair with what's become of her life. She also recalls the mad ecstasy of impending release, and then nothing after that but cold darkness that was not death, but merely the mini-death, unconsciousness.
She had woken up with Sayaka and Madoka kneeling beside her. They didn't seem to know what had happened or what Hitomi had done (Tried to do). Her friends hoisted her to her feet, saying that she'd had a nasty fall and passed out, and that she could still make it to lessons if she hurried. Hitomi nodded numbly, saying nothing of the truth to them, suddenly flooded with shame and not wanting them to know of her weakness. What would they have thought of her, if they'd known?
This is a secret she has held close to her breast. Her friends don't know. Her parents don't know—will never know. Her teachers don't know, her neighbors don't know, the lunch lady and the cashiers at the mall and her doctors don't know. Hitomi has no intention of telling anyone. She's still struggling to sort these feelings out for herself, confused and shaken and not entirely sure what she did, but entirely too certain of why she was doing it.
She wanted to die.
She, Shizuki Hitomi, is thirteen years old, and she had wanted to die.
What right do I have to end my own life? Hitomi wonders bitterly. It's very early in the morning, and she sits at the kitchen table alone, drinking tea and nibbling unenthusiastically at a blueberry scone. The sky outside the window is still dark; her parents are still abed. Look at me. My life is heaven compared to the hardships other girls face. What are constant classes, a rigid lifestyle and estrangement from friends compared to rape, starvation, servitude and homelessness? What do I have to complain about?
But these bracing, self-castigating thoughts don't change the reality of what she felt, what she thought, and what she tried to do. Hitomi twists the skirt of her nightgown in her hands. There's still a weight sitting on her shoulders, still a heaviness in her heart. She doesn't think she'd try to kill herself again if given the opportunity, but that thought still whirls around in her head.
I need to do something, Hitomi realizes, biting her lip anxiously. I need to do something to make it all hurt a little less. Crying won't help—and crying incessantly's unladylike anyways; isn't that what Mother's always said? I need to do something that isn't curling up in a ball and bawling like a great big baby.
Quitting classes is a no-go. That would only create even more problems, fracturing Hitomi's relationship with her parents, who expect obedience from their daughter as a well-brought-up "young lady." And when she's not laboring under the toxic influence of oppressively suicidal thoughts, Hitomi can remember that, for all the stress they've created in her life, Hitomi enjoys her lessons on their own. She enjoys piano and dancing, enjoys ikebana and tea ceremony. She won't give up on them.
So it occurs to Hitomi, there is something in her life that she can change.
She and two others are knotted in a snarled tapestry that spreads back over the years. The other two are likely not aware of how all three of them have their lives tied up together, but Hitomi can see the tangled skein of thread for what it is. She sees how hers, Sayaka's and Kyousuke's lives have become tied to each other, and Hitomi is no longer content to let herself be simply further entangled through her own inaction.
No. The bonds must be either untangled, or cut.
Sayaka is unaware of Hitomi's affection, and unless he is more observant than he has thus far proved himself to be, Kyousuke is unaware of either of the girls' feelings for him. Hitomi is by far the most clear-seeing of these three, for she alone has seen the situation for what it is: two girls, who happen to be close friends, both have feelings for a boy who is aware of neither of their feelings, and only one of the girls is aware of the 'love triangle' that's developed.
For a long time, Hitomi has known this and done nothing, afraid to act and letting that fear fester in her heart. She was afraid of rejection, afraid of hurting Sayaka, afraid of potentially ruining her friendship with both Kyousuke and Sayaka.
Hitomi still has that fear. She knows how some boys think, that if they know that a girl has a crush on them and they don't feel the same way, well they just can't be friends anymore, and they start to actively avoid that girl. She also knows that a lot of girls don't think they can be friends with a girl who has a crush on the same boy as them. Hitomi knows that she could very well lose two of her precious and precious few friends if she seeks to pull at the knot that binds them so painfully together.
However, Hitomi can't sit by and do nothing anymore. Her battered heart had made it clear to her that she can't stay in stasis as one point of a triangle, one thread tangled together with another two. This needs to be cleared up, here and now.
Hitomi isn't sure she even minds anymore, if Kyousuke reciprocates her feelings or not. The waiting, watching and vacillating has been so miserable already, like being besieged on all sides by the most glacial and merciless of winter winds. Surely rejection couldn't hurt any more than what she has already endured. Hitomi stares down at her blurry reflection in her china teacup, deep furrows dug into her brow. What she's considerably more worried about is Sayaka's reaction to this.
It's been either seven or eight years that Hitomi has been Sayaka's friend. Though Hitomi's place as Sayaka's best friend has since been supplanted by Madoka, Hitomi still considers Sayaka her closest friend. She knows how badly Sayaka has always feared rejection; hasn't she watched Sayaka avoid direct confrontation for fear of it, a thousand times already? Whatever Hitomi does, it will hurt Sayaka.
But she can't believe that Sayaka would stop being friends with her over a boy. Hitomi can't believe that Sayaka would really sever ties with her over Kyousuke, not so long as Hitomi endeavors to resolve this situation as peacefully and painlessly as she can. Hitomi has to believe that their friendship is stronger than that, that Sayaka wouldn't abandon her over Kyousuke, any more than Hitomi would abandon Sayaka in the same situation. Their friendship is strong enough to weather this storm. It will stand after the storm is over. Hitomi has to believe that. If she loses that one thing, she's afraid that might slip back into the same mindset that lead her to attempt suicide.
Kyousuke is back in school now, having experienced a miraculous recovery as far as his mangled hand is concerned. Now is the perfect time. Hitomi will let Sayaka know about her feelings for Kyousuke, will let Sayaka have first crack at him if she so chooses. That's only fair; after all, Sayaka has known Kyousuke longer than Hitomi has, and has likely had a crush on him longer than Hitomi as well. Sayaka deserves that much from her friend.
And they've all been knotted together for too long already. It's well past time to act, and Hitomi won't procrastinate any longer for fear of bruised feelings. Perhaps she's being selfish, but somehow, after everything that's happened, she can't bring herself to care any longer.
