I was always selfish. It was the nature of the Rat, just as it was the nature of the Rat and the Cat to battle eternally.
Fighting Kyo was always a release for me. I was able to channel all of my underlying aggression and self-hatred toward him. When I fought him, I was strong. I wasn't helpless or worthless like Akito said. I wasn't weak while I was throwing punches and kicks at the Cat.
Every one of his defeats proved to me that I could take control of my life. It showed me that I was strong enough to cut my puppet strings and make a choice.
I chose to fight back.
Even though I beat him every time, he never gave up. He always kept coming at me, challenging me, making me do something for once in my life. He made me realize that there was something in life worth fighting for. I was worth fighting for.
I didn't realize what he had done until he sneeringly asked me – after our umpteenth fight – if I actually ever felt anything. I was startled, not because of the question, but because of the answer. I did. I did feel something. I felt pain, and for the very first time, pain for another. For Kyo.
That was when I first realized that I was human. I felt pain for someone other than myself. Kyo stirred the feelings of compassion sleeping deep within me. I felt that emotion once, long ago, but it faded quietly into the darkness until Kyo rudely woke it up again. He was the flame that chased away my shadows.
But I continued to hurt him because I was scared that if I ever stopped fighting him, I would also stop feeling. I would stop living. I would revert back into that cold, empty shell I had once been. I never wanted to be that person again.
So I fought him again and again. Acrid words fell from my lips to provoke him. My punches and kicks landed on his body with deadly accuracy. All of this was done for my benefit. It was selfish, really, and I hated myself for it. I was using him to make myself whole again, forcing myself to feel more and more at his expense.
I couldn't stop. But one day he did. He disappeared like a flame – burning brightly one moment, and gone the next.
I can never remember much about what happened in my life during his absence. I remember acting compassionately and kindly, but I never experienced the feelings that that went along with those actions.
Then I began to feel afraid. I was afraid now that he was gone, no one would ever be able to touch me again. No one would ever be able to make me feel again. As the days dragged on without his presence, I felt my emotions numbing. I was turning back into a porcelain doll with perfect manners and a painted smile. I became unbreakable and untouchable once more. There was nothing I could do to stop it.
One day, though, months later, I heard the sound of the roof crashing. The ceiling crumbled, along with the barriers around my heart. He had returned. Once again, we began to fight. Once again, I began to feel. Once again, I began to live.
His return left me conflicted. I was torn between feeling guilty at having to fight and cause him pain, and relief that he would always be around to keep me whole.
It was stupid of me, I suppose, but I never thought that the more I felt, the more I would hurt. That to feel was to make myself vulnerable. Kyo was my weakness as well as my strength. I continued to fight him, even if was killing me.
I was always selfish when it came to Kyo.
