Capitulum VIII: Maestitia
I caught my eyes roaming about, scanning the library. They stopped as arbitrarily as they seemed to have started, and set upon the frame of a single person sitting a few tables away from the corner of the room. The girl from the other day, she seemed focused on her reading. 'So there you are.' I unconsciously swallowed. I'd been thinking ever since then about how unnecessarily harsh I might've sounded, and why would I act in such a way to a complete stranger. I struggled to blame it on the circumstances, while the truth of my temper could be explained by the adversity state I've come to know in these past few days, I didn't want to believe I had become such an unempathetic individual based on external forces alone. 'I am responsible for my actions.' The thought suddenly struck me. 'Its gravest consequences are on the mind, indeed. Like regret, or guilt. I must preserve my sanity, and with it, my character.' I turned my eyes back unto my book. 'Great, but how do I do that? How do I save myself from apathy?'
It seemed no more reading could've been done today. I got too distracted with reality to continue. Instead, I looked up again, this time directly towards that girl. She was staring. She was now staring fixedly at me. From this distance, her eyes seemed a dark shaded grey, although that was an illusion, I'd seen 'em before, close to me, the light-grey contrasted in the window-side, illuminated section of the library, it was her most striking feature, and it remained on my mind as the most memorable. And for that, I couldn't look away. Her expressionless eyes and her neutral smile prompted me to wonder just what could be going on inside her mind in this instance. 'Could she be having an internal struggle trying to decide whether or not to approach me? Could she be balancing the pros and cons of reattempting a conversation, based on past results? Maybe she's just silently cursing me, convincing herself I'm exceeding in cruelty.'
I scoff at my usual over exaggeration of hypotheses, if such phenomena is occurring for such a banal happenstance, I wager it would be best to simply extinguish the notion of probability and what ifs and resolve the unknown by confronting it posthaste. I closed my book and steeled my determination to go over there and introduce myself to her, make up an excuse about last time and inquire about her own proclivity for reading and the like. That's when, once again I'm caught off my guard when I notice her advance.
"Last week... I didn't mean to disturb you." Said she.
"Don't worry, you didn't." Said I.
"Did I act oversensitively?" Asked she.
"You did." I smiled.
"I hope you can forgive me."
"I can. But the world..." I looked to my left, in ponder.
"The world is a scary place." Whispered she.
"Is that why you hide inside a school uniform?" I looked in her eyes. They widened in surprise. She opened her mouth as she was about to say something, but before she could, I continued: "Why you consider your choices made?" I raised my left hand and faced it, closing my eyes. "Although born with free will, you don't use it, you don't even claim it, weak as you may be..." After a moment, I turned back to face her.
"...That wasn't meant for me..." She slowly stated.
I shook my head. "It's something I'd like to say to myself. If I'm ever brave enough." Said I, solemnly.
"You seem to be a sensitive person as well."
I nodded.
"I'm Saori Hasegawa." She extended her hand in greeting. Even though she wasn't a foreigner.
"Minako Arisato." I squeezed her hand in greeting. Even though I wasn't a foreigner.
-/-
"No one else is here." Said I, scanning the empty court.
"No, you're the only one who came... Why did you come?" Asked Rio, serious.
I responded non-chalantly: "I'm starting to enjoy volley..."
"And...?" She asked briskly.
I shook my head. "It's your turn." Said I.
She swallowed hard. "I was walking past the spare room a moment ago and I... ended up overhearing something." She breathed heavier. "It was Kenji and Professor Kanou. They seemed to be getting along great, if you know what I mean." She frowned. "They're teacher and student and still..." Her angry eyes brimmed with tears.
I unconsciously formed a fist with my right hand.
"Why... Why'd he choose someone like her... Why... wasn't it me?" She began crying.
I clenched my fist and dig my nails into my palm.
"I... didn't know I was such a nasty person. I've got these terrible feelings inside me... I hate myself... What is wrong with me?" Uttered she, while sobbing.
I forced myself to say: "It's because you like Kenji." I felt hot liquid dripping between my fingers.
Rio scoffed. "How stupid of me."
"Try confronting them." Said I, raspily.
"Like that's gonna make a difference..." She started drying her tears.
"You think it's wrong, don't you? Unethical."
"Yes, but... I don't know if I'm willing to go that far." Said she, weakily.
"To truly live you will have to make changes sometimes." I looked to my right. "Or else you'll become a hypocrite." Said I, unemotionally.
"That's... harsh... Is it your philosophy?" I showed her my scornful face. She sighed. "I understand... I'll try..."
I felt a stinging pain in my eyes. 'I need to hurry.' "Well, I'll be going, then." I hid my hand behind my bag and walked off.
"Bye." I heard her say.
-/-
I inhaled sharply when I felt the cold water trailing down my hand and into my flesh. The inescapable tears that ran down my cheeks a moment ago were now but dry traces on my face. 'The red in my eyes and the red in my hand complement each other.' Remarked I, melancholically. It hadn't even hurt, I ruptured the skin of my own palm and it wasn't even painful. At least, not physically.
"Here." Said Edogawa, unrolling the bandages. I extended my arm and he proceeded to wrap my right hand in them. "How did that happen?" Asked he, in dull tone.
"I don't think it's any of your business." Stated I, dryly.
He shook his head disapprovingly. "Reckless kids..." Mumbled he. "Change them at least twice a day. Can you one-hand it?"
"I'll manage."
He shrugged. "So you say..."
I left the room.
-/-
When I arrived at the dorm, all I wanted to do was go to my room, all I wanted to do was lie down and cry, all I wanted to do was close my eyes shut and never open them again. But once again my wishes were denied.
"Minako." Called Mitsuru, as soon as I stepped into the foyer. "How are you holding up after Tartarus?" Asked she.
"I'm fine." Uttered I, emotionless.
"It's normal if you feel more tired than usual." Said she.
I nodded. I was holding my bag with my left hand and trying my best to keep my right hidden.
"Well, if everything's fine, then I won't hold you up any longer." She returned her attention to the book she held open.
I quickly made my way to the stairs and went up to the third floor. I noticed Yukari, sitting on a sofa, doing absolutely nothing.
She saw me and went stiff. "Hey." Said she.
"Hey." I approached her.
"I... wanted to say I'm sorry. I see now, how hard it is for you..."
"Are you saying I'm weak?" Asked I, defiantly.
She exhaled. "Do you always do this?" She furrowed her eyebrows. "Take everything to an extreme...?"
I narrowed my eyes. "Look who's saying!" Confronted I.
She shook her head violently. "Minako! Think!" "You... You always do it, don't you?" Uttered she, sadly.
I mulled over her words. "It's not my fault, I think..." I turned my back to her as I remembered Rio's confession. "...I can't help it..." My hand stung, my eyes stung.
I heard her moving behind me. "What happened today?" Asked she, worriedly. "Did you hurt yourself?" I looked down at my bandaged hand. "Did someone hurt you?" She rounded me and stopped in front of me.
Drained of will, I whispered: "Yeah... both..." I blinked and felt the familiar sensation of tears trickling down my face.
"Minako..." Brooded she.
I sobbed.
She inched closer and embraced me.
Many minutes passed while I cried on her shoulder. Then, when I had calmed down, we separated and I uttered raspily: "Thank you."
"For being blunt and making you cry?" Asked she, slightly smiling.
I shook my head indulgently. "You helped me out last week, too. And I'm pretty sure you saved my life a handful of times inside Tartarus."
Yukari's face became somber. "I was just doing my job."
I cast my eyes downwards. "I know, but I'm still grateful." Studying her, I asked, in a cautious voice: "We are friends, aren't we?"
Yukari's face went blank and she nodded. "Yes."
I inhaled. "Well then..." I turned away and started towards my room.
"Your hand..." Spoke she.
"Don't worry. It was nothing."
I turned the knob, opened the door, entered, then closed it. Then fell on the bed.
-/-
How lucky I am to be left handed. How lucky I am to be able to control my emotions so expertly. All it took was a bit of pain and blood, but my face steeled in indifferent expression even as my throat dried and my head went feverish. How lucky I am to have my heart broken instead of my hymen.
How lucky I am to harbour a freak within. To be a freak myself.
How lucky I am to feel pain. And how grateful I am for the relief it brings. At least, for the mind, or the soul.
I gazed longingly to my right hand. The clean bandages I applied this morning before coming to school enveloped it protectively.
And the pain I didn't feel neither now nor then. How lucky I am my self injury is already healing. How lucky I am to be alive.
At least, nobody bothers me. At least, I'm left alone. Though, is that really a good thing? Is this a contrary world I'm living in? Is mine a contrary existence I'm forced to command? Am I in contradiction to my self? My own self...?
'Who am I?'
"Minako, hello."
I looked up towards the source of the voice. Surprisingly, I found myself inside the library. 'When did I even get here?'
Saori stood before me, exuding her usual calm demeanor and friendly smile. She kept both hands at her back. "Hi..." Uttered I.
She sat before the table in front of me and revealed what she kept hidden behind her. A book.
"Odysseia..."
"I just finished this yesterday, what a thrill!" Said she.
"So what's your favorite line?"
"Line?" She looked confused.
My features lightened as I realised the situation. "Ah, so you read the prose one..."
She cast her eyes downwards. "It was the one they all recommended..." Started she, lowly.
"Poems're where all the soul is in, although, in this age, no one cares about that anymore." I inhaled as I felt a surge of inspiration. "With their cell phones and twitters and instant messages, word cap and clear meaning, the rush of the flow of time and the now and new lived in much hurrier fashion, the past, along with its customs and garnishments forgotten after only a quarter of minutes into its lifetime, soon to be replaced by the people who live today as the following day."
The second after, Saori was dumbstruck, only to recuperate as quickly and speak, agog: "Your insight is quite precise, but at the same time, embellished by your oratory, it becomes a work of art deserving of preservation."
"Are you talking about... writing it down?"
"Or recording it." She placed her hand upon her chin in contemplation.
I scoffed. "I thank you for appreciating my words, but really, that's all they are. What I said about the world and the people of this era, it'll only get worse, and it'll come a day when nobody like me will exist anymore." I swallowed hard, thinking about my previous ponderings on death. My own death. "That is fact." Ended I.
"It is sad." Agreed she. "Minako!" She half-exclaimed. "What happened to your hand?" She spoke briskly. My brows shot up in surprise. My right hand rested on the table. 'When did I put it there?' Noticing my shift, she started: "Oh, I don't mean to question you... I-I mean, if you don't wanna tell..." She looked away. "I mean... I'm sorry."
I shook my head and couldn't contain a chuckle. "I..." I exhaled and thought about Rio, for the first time without feeling regret. "I had an accident." Uttered I, calmly. Saori turned to look at me. "The pain is gone now." 'I hope.'
"Can you..." she started in a small voice. "recommend me some poetry?" She stared into my eyes. "Or rather, tell me the ones you like?"
I searched the haziness of her pupils. Nothing. I found nothing there. Except a tiny reflection of my own image. Staring back with those crimson eyes. How can a fiery colour feel so cold? Was I really becoming more corrupt with each passing day? Was I really metamorphosing from an autonomous butterfly to a captive moth? Surrounded by my own poison? Hurting myself and everyone around me? And whose fault was it if not mine? Whose could it be, if not mine? 'It is mine.' Reckoned I. 'It is.'
I blinked. "Of course." Answered I. Saori glowed in anticipation. She glowed.
