I've never really hated mornings. Sometimes I'd rather not wake up, but it's not like I've ever looked out the window and cursed the sun. That's stupid. It's not like you can change the natural cycle of the world just because you hate it. But I hate this morning.
"Come on, get up!"
Fucking Justine.
I shouldn't have agreed to go look at flowers with her today. I know, Lisa's getting all wedding crazy, but still. It's not for another few months. Can't she wait? I'm surprised Justine's taking this so well, because nobody could possibly be this excited about somebody else's wedding. As a matter of fact, I'm not sure it's possible to be this excited about anything.
"I'm up," I mutter through that ugly sleep goo in my throat. Gross.
"Well, get dressed, we have to get an early start!" Ugh, that girl. I'd like to rip out her hair and sell her pretty eyes on the black market, but I won't. I'm too nice for that. Or, I'm not ready to go to jail. That's probably closer to the truth.
"I'm up," I say again. Last night I really did promise myself I would not give her attitude, but let's face it – she deserves it. Only crazy people and criminals get up this early just to go shopping. Ew.
Something is wrong with this girl. Fundamentally.
"...Good. But I'm still waiting."
I give her my best half-glare (because I've only managed to open one eye) and say, "I don't know why you need me, anyway."
"Because you're the daughter of the groom," she says in this really degrading duh voice. Well, sor-ree, Sunshine. I don't know shit about weddings. Marriage is retarded, anyway. Even if I suddenly had proposals – like that would ever happen – I wouldn't marry anybody. I don't want to ruin my life.
"Oh," I reply. Okay, then. That's what my tone is saying. I can't stand how my voice doesn't act up in the mornings; it makes me think it only does it to annoy me. "Well, get out. I have to change."
I guess Zexion and I are kind of alike when it comes to mornings, though I'm usually easier to deal with. I bet if he got laid, he'd feel better about mornings, but he has a Relationship stick up his ass. Come on, sex is sex. It's not like it's important. He should really start thinking about us, the poor innocent bystanders. And, yes, I'm bad today. I should focus on the getting up thing instead of Zexion and his distinct lack of sex life.
...I wonder if Marluxia's sexually active. Ugh, bad Naminé. Bad.
I stretch and clear my throat, which is still full of goo. Goddamn, that's disgusting. I took a shower last night, so I'm going to just get dressed and brush my teeth and go – I'm suddenly really glad I have an adjoined bathroom – this isn't my usual routine, and I'm a little hesitant to change it, but I'm not going to dress up all pretty just for Justine – and hopefully, we'll break for lunch so I can nap on the table.
Today I'm wearing baggy gray pants, because then it feels normal to have my legs slipping around. I know this is borderline unhealthy, how skinny my legs are, but I can't help it; everything's been so crazy, and I can't eat when things are crazy. Instead of having that gross vomit taste in my mouth, I'd rather just go without food until the crazy stops. It's not like I really have a problem, no matter what my therapist says. She's definitely on crack.
Justine's knocking on the door like the world's gonna end and I'm pretty much ready to end it for her if she doesn't knock it off, but whatever. I only have to pick out a shirt –
White always makes me look washed out, so why do I only own white shirts? Oh, and that blue one. And the black one, but that's dirty. I need someone to pick out my clothes for me. I bet Larxene could do it; I love her fashion sense, and why am I thinking about her? Eh, well, it beats thinking about ripping out Justine's hair.
"I'm coming," I say, pulling on the blue shirt and slipping into my sandals. I put my wallet in my back pocket and get my art bag before yanking the door open. Justine's hand stops like a centimeter away from my nose and I kinda wish that had connected, because then I could justify hitting her. Y'know, she started it.
"Let's go," she says brightly, as though she isn't the most annoying person in the history of ever.
"Yes. Let's," I reply, trying to sound all sarcastic and utterly failing because my voice hates me. Fuck my life, seriously.
Justine's one of those people who like to walk everywhere. Not that I mind walking, but she takes forever; she's also one of those stop-and-smell-the-flowers kind of people, plodding along with that vapid smile. I'm embarrassed to be seen with her.
...At least she's not a hairspray princess. The smell would surely push me over the edge.
We're like halfway there now and I can't believe time just went so fast even though she's going so slow. I bet it's because I'm trying so hard to pretend she doesn't exist. That takes a lot of concentration; it never works, but it's really not meant to. It's just a distraction.
"Naminé," she says hesitantly, looking at me through her hair like she doesn't know if she'll get murdered for talking to me. "What has...um, what has your dad told you about the wedding?"
"Nothing," I respond, and I shiver because for some reason it's cold out here. Middle of the fucking summer, and it's freezing. I look over at Justine who doesn't look cold at all – lucky bitch – and add, "I doubt he even knows I know...i-it's probably going to be...a surprise." Good to know my lack of vocal stability doesn't discriminate.
Not.
"Oh." When I sneak a peek, she's looking down at her feet, still plodding along but looking almost sad. "If I had known you didn't know, I wouldn't have said..."
"Don't w-orry about it; this town...can't keep any secrets. I would have found out quickly anyway."
Is it bad that I feel bad about not making her feel bad? Like I've neglected my duties or something, and now the bitch police are going to cuff me and take me away. I bet I wouldn't mind if Larxene was the arresting officer and whoa, we don't need to go there, do we, Naminé? Move along now, little girl.
"Oh," she says again. "Thanks." And dammit, even just peripherally I can see she's giving me this beatific smile and this is why you don't give them an inch, even if you're feeling exceptionally friendly. She probably thinks I was being nice to her.
Instead of strangling her, or at least tripping her, I decide to say, "I didn't do anything." But now I regret it – funny how I can only regret tiny things that ultimately don't matter – because I know what's coming, and I don't have the patience for this song and dance.
"You were just really nice," she says, just like I thought she would. "I don't have any friends here, so...thank you for not ditching me, I guess, and for not being mad."
A stupid person would say really it was nothing, and then it would go back and forth like a deranged tennis match, but I'm not completely useless. "You're welcome." There. Problem solved. She won't go on about that shit and even though it totally gives the wrong impression, at least now I can walk in peace.
...Except we're nearly there, and I have no idea how we got here so fast. Well, flowers are better conversation than Justine, and I'm only half kidding.
"The colors are blue, gray, and orange," she informs me as soon as we enter at the ungodly hour of stupid o'clock in the morning. Marluxia loves this place, because he's a morning person, but I'm so not focused on that because I can only think how revolting.
Really, Lisa, orange?
Catching my look, Justine laughs wryly. "I'm going to talk her out of it, eventually, but the blue will stay, at least. I was hoping for something about the same color as your eyes, since it's Mom's favorite color, but I don't know where to start. I know you have an eye for flowers, so..." She gestures to the inside of the store. "Knock yourself out."
I refrain from making a face at her. I don't even know if I could pull it off, at this point, but...goddamn, it's weird to hear her talking about my eye color like that! I've never really paid much attention to eyes; they're just to see with and, in some cases, add to a person's aesthetic presence, but mostly they're just so our faces don't look bizarre (and so we don't bump into nightstands). I know my eyes are blue, but who cares?
Apparently Justine cares. She's in design, so she's got an eye for color and detail (I guess), but it's still fucking weird.
Now I can't even remember the specific shade of my eyes, and I'd rather not look in a mirror because ew. Seriously, ew. I start to walk toward the packets of seeds in the back (they have more pictures and selection, so we can order nice, fresh ones just before the wedding, even if they come from a different place), but Justine grabs my arm and tries to pull me away.
"What are you doing," I ask her, ripping my arm away. See, this is why you don't get chummy with people you dislike, because they think they can just go touching you without permission.
"We have to leave now," she hisses. "Come on, before they see!"
At first I'm going to tell her it's bad to steal things, but then I hear the bell on the door chime and I know what she's really afraid of. Here's my chance! I shake my head. "Justine, they're my friends. If you're really that worried about...whatever you're worried about, you can take off, but I'm going to say hello." Funny how that would have sounded cool if my voice wasn't crying.
"I'm out of here then," she says quickly. I watch her book it out of the store, and I'm kinda...nonplussed. Because what the hell, seriously. I still don't know what the fuck her problem is but it's obvious she's unhinged.
I see Marluxia coming toward me, but I don't think he's noticed me yet. Larxene's there kinda trailing behind him, looking around her like she doesn't know what to do. I have a feeling she's not all into flora like he is.
I'm going to take a moment to admire her. When she's not looking directly at me, there's this weird sort of vulnerability around her that she never consciously shows. I'm guessing it's because of whatever happened before (and if it's Axel's fault, his ass is mine), but it makes her seem almost childlike when she's not paying attention or being a bitch. I like her bitchy, but I think I want to draw this, too. I don't want to see her vulnerable, but at the same time, this really sick part of me does.
I want to know she's human, kinda. If she's human, I might actually have a chance. Probably not, but still, sometimes I invite optimism to tea.
There's a sucker in her mouth, hanging out of the corner like it's only there on its own. She's wearing black pants this time, kinda billowy like mine. They're nicer though, more like slacks than anything, and I can see the class. She can look so slutty sometimes, and it's really hot, but I think I like this look better; it's softer somehow. Her light blue blouse totally matches mine and I feel something like pride, before I realize what the hell, it's not like coincidence means anything.
Her shiny boots make her feet look dangerous. I wonder if she still has a knife tucked into her stockings, or if she even has them on. She could be wearing hose under there. That would be weird, and probably annoying, but it could be. I wonder what the occasion is.
Marluxia glances up and sees me, and the smile on his face is something between delighted and pure fucking evil. It's like he lives to torment me with his expressions or something.
"You're looking rather gloomy today, Naminé," he tells me. I resist the urge to cover my face with my hands to check the expression. It wouldn't matter, and it would only make Larxene laugh at me, which would be very tragic or whatever.
I decide to tell the truth. "Justine dragged me out of bed to look for flowers that match my eyes."
He raises an eyebrow. Lucky guy can actually do it with one. "And?"
"And I don't remember what my eyes look like." I try not to wail this. It's really embarrassing to think of how distressing this is.
He steps back and appraises me – god, I hate that! I'm not a work of art! After he's done perusing, he says, "I'd say Gentiana verna. They're hard to find around here, but not impossible to get. Why are you looking?"
Well, thank you for solving my dilemma, oh great god of all things petally and chlorophyllified. Now that I feel utterly humiliated and violated, we can move on. "My dad's wedding."
"The one in December?"
I give him a dry look I totally hope he sees and understands. "Lisa is wedding crazy. She thinks orange will be a good color, but her daughter is trying to talk her out of it."
"It's surprising to see that girl has some sense," Larxene mutters almost venomously. Whoa, girl.
"What is it between you two, anyway," I ask curiously. Notice how my voice isn't wavering? I'm awesome.
"She made some unwanted advances on poor, defenseless Marly here," she tells me, and Marluxia rolls his eyes with more patience than I've ever seen in him. "I told her to cut it out, but for some reason she completely vilified me and thinks I threatened her!"
For some reason, this doesn't seem very likely. It's probably more like their little talk went along the lines of you stay away from my property, or there'll be hell to pay, bitch. It's kinda sweet, in that bizarre, terrifying way.
"Um," I say, because I really have no idea what else to say but she's looking for an answer.
"Might I suggest we get what we came for, and then continue this inane conversation somewhere else," Marluxia asks, now sounding impatient. I knew he couldn't hold it back for long.
"Yeah, yeah," Larxene says, kinda rolling her eyes but kinda smiling too. I wonder what they're here for – but I also know I'll find out, because he just invited me along when they leave. I wonder if it's safe and/or healthy to be following them around like this; what if I'm just deluding myself? I'm so afraid of losing...whatever it is I think I have, at any given time, that I become unnecessarily attached. What if they decide I'm no longer worthy? It could happen. It probably will happen. And at that time...what am I going to do?
I can't think about this. Not here, not now. I'm getting nauseated already.
I watch Marluxia browse the seed packets – the herb section, specifically – and I figure he needs a new or better selection. He's never satisfied with his own gardens; it's a little amusing, actually. The thing he's most passionate about is the thing he's never in complete control of. I wonder if it's incidental or a conscious thing.
He picks some stuff out quickly and I don't bother to look at his selection, since I'm more into flowers than anything. When we were first friends, he helped me start my own flower garden, and it was like I was drawing on nature's canvas, but...after we stopped talking, I let him take over. Without him, it felt empty.
He goes up to pay and I go to follow him, but Larxene grabs my shoulder and goddamn, did I really just get the shivers? I mean, other than the usual ones, because lately it's been inordinately cold around here. Quietly, she says, "What's wrong with you?" I can tell she's not asking about my well-being.
I'm not sure what she is asking, though, so I go for a generic answer. "Where to begin?"
She's about to say something, or at least she's opening her mouth, but Marluxia comes back and she doesn't get the chance. I'm kinda really grateful for his timely appearance, because I don't think I want to know what she was going to ask. She'd probably get the truth without even trying, because I'm fairly certain I couldn't deny her anything, even if I wanted to. Crushes suck.
"Let's go," he says, and on the surface it's like he didn't see us so close, but I know he did because of his glance at Larxene. I know that look. It's passive, but inquiring if you know him and dangerous because he will get answers. It was directed at her, though, so I'm pretty safe for now.
I can see his car parked in the lot and I'm very, very glad. Larxene's mattress car is...well, I don't want to say 'sacred' and sound totally lame, but it's my head. Nobody's going to see these thoughts anyway. So yeah, sacred. Like the kind of care you can only use for special occasions or epic journeys.
...That sounds really stupid. Even more stupid than usual.
"Hurry up, little girl, Marly's going to make us breakfast," Larxene says, making spastic motions with her left hand. I don't care about breakfast, since I know it won't go in me, but I'm glad I was invited. I'm barely in the car and he zooms away. He thinks he owns the road, and at this hour, he probably does. I wonder if we'll run over Justine, but I don't know where she went.
I realize he's telling her something and I'm not sure how long I was looking out the window, but we're at his house already. I wonder where Larxene lives.
"It was one of the most pointless things we ever did. Wasn't it, Naminé?"
I nod and follow them out of the car, even though I have absolutely no idea what he was even talking about. To change the subject (and possibly save my ass from embarrassment), I ask, "What was it like where you grew up?"
"Hang on, I need to find the keys," she says. "Dammit, I think I lost them."
"This is the third time we've made spare keys, Larx," he says almost despairingly. "Can't you just keep them on a ring or something?"
So she lives here with him? I guess that explains why they're always together, but it doesn't explain why I'm randomly jealous. I'm nucking futs, apparently.
He unlocks the door as she mutters, "Key rings are tacky."
"But useful," he says dryly. "Sit down; breakfast will only be a moment."
I sit next to her at the table after she's shut the door and we've left our shoes in the hallway. We're too close for me to really be comfortable, but I wouldn't be comfortable anyway. Something weird is in the air. I'm freezing and I'm really more anxious than I should be.
"You were going to tell me what it was like in your hometown," I prompt, and I'm kinda excited about how clear my voice sounded just then. I may be shaking, but it's not all bad.
"Well, you find out pretty quickly that Hollow Bastion is a terrible city," Larxene says, folding her arms and leaning back. I can't see down her shirt anymore, but that's a good thing, probably. "You wear a bandana on your wrist, to cover up – the rash there, and you get a warning from some chick that you're going to get jumped if you don't take it off. And this is in middle school."
From the kitchen, I hear, "I'm sure it wasn't just the bandana."
"Love you too, Marlena," she says sweetly.
I say, kinda thoughtfully, "That kind of stuff is everywhere, I think. At least, I know things get bad in Twilight Town. It's probably different here because we're so isolated, and it would be pointless because we're all a big, disgusting family anyway."
"I know this is just a little happy town, but...really? Twilight Town? That's such a...peaceful place. And close-knit. Or so I've heard."
I shrug. "An employee of mine got curbed. He survived, if you can call it that. His girlfriend made him move out of town, I think...it was relieving, because I was about to replace him, and firing him in the hospital would have been in very bad taste."
"You're a frigid bitch, Naminé," Marluxia says appreciatively, appearing with a pitcher of something disturbingly green. He goes back into the kitchen again.
"It was a financial thing, not a personal thing. I'm just a businesswoman," I tell him.
Larxene makes that snorting noise again and says, "Same thing."
I'll never tell anyone how horrified I was. I mean, I knew that kid. He was just out of high school, clean-cut, perfect record, but then all of a sudden I call him to ask why he hasn't been to work in a while and his girlfriend sobs at me about reconstructive surgery and assholes and why did they do this to him and gonna fucking kill them, at which point I told her it would be a very bad idea to seek vengeance.
I couldn't even bear to look at him. I went to drop off flowers and nearly threw up, because...I knew how he'd gotten that way. I couldn't even bring myself to ask what the hell he did to deserve that, because it wasn't exactly a punch in the nose. You hear about shit like that and think it couldn't possibly exist, but it can and it does and it makes you lose a little more faith in the shitty species called 'homo sapiens.' The world is a fuckhole, but you want to believe decent people can survive here. And then you figure out nobody's decent. Some people are just better at hiding it than others.
I think that's really when I started hating people. Really, sincerely, unalterably hating them. I can only stand the ones who don't hide how sick they are. Point of fact, I hate myself just as much, because I can't rise above my own humanity.
"I suppose you're right," I tell her, because I mean it when I say I'm never going to tell that to anyone. I think I'd start bawling, or throw up, and maybe I could have shared it with Kairi, but she's gone and even right now, at this moment, the weight of that is pressing down on me so hard my voice is wavering again. To change the subject, I add, "But I bet you're no better, Marluxia. You run your own business; you should know about making decisions like that."
Setting plates on the table, he replies, "Of course I do, but this is Traverse Town. Nothing ever happens here that would warrant a reaction like that. To be honest, I didn't believe that was something people really did, and I used to be the kind of person who might do it."
Hearing him admit that is both unsettling and endearing to me. I look down at my plate and force back a cringe; ew. Grapes, melons, some weird herbs or something, a suspicious dark not-chocolate creamy substance, and what I think is ricotta cheese. Blech. I mix some of the fruit and the dark stuff and push it around a little. "Well, I didn't believe it either, until then." Is it just me, or is it getting a little hot in here?
I look up from my plate after a much longer silence than necessary and find two pairs of eyes on me, staring at me. It's very nerve-wracking and my voice cries when I say, "Can I help you?"
"Try it," he says pointedly. "It's Larxene's recipe."
"Um...maybe a little later," I say. God, I wasn't thinking about this. I'm way too nervous right now; it's hot and now that they're looking at me, I'm kinda shaking. I feel about three inches tall, and regardless of what the caterpillar says, it's not a good height to be. "I'm not really hungry."
"Oh, come on," Larxene says, giving me this horrible grin I'd like to block out of my memory.
"No, really," I say, trying to smile big for her.
She rolls her eyes and grabs my fork and brings it close to my face like she's going to force-feed me and I know she's probably not going to, but something's creeping into me. This hasn't happened in so long; I thought maybe I was cured, maybe coming back to Traverse Town was the answer Lorazepam didn't give me, but they're looking at me and I'm shaking and dammit, the earth...
Fuck.
Kairi, Marluxia, Larxene, food, Kairi, Jake's ruined face, food...I can't breathe.
I push her hand away and I stand up but then I can't stand anymore, because the walls are moving and the table can't support me. My lungs are turning to stone and my eyes are being pulled out of their sockets and I thought this part, where the big ones happen, was over years ago. I thought it was just the earth breathing, but now it's the entire universe, crashing into me and suffocating me.
The stars are in my eyes and gravity is everywhere and my lungs have either turned completely into stone or are so full of dirt they can't work, but either way, the earth has ruined me. I can't concentrate. I can't think. And it's so stupid, I should be better than this, but I can't talk myself out of it because who am I to control the universe? It's impossible, I'm impossible.
Larxene's lips are moving, but I have no idea what she's saying. I think Marluxia's trying to touch me but my body's twisting and my soul is moving away, like I'm turning into a ghost.
I like it here. Everything's colors and I want them to stop, because the more they interact with that body the closer I am to being in it again.
I don't want to go back.
Larxene is brilliant, intoxicating jade green. It's trying to reach me, but that's futile, because I'm a ghost now. Only the body is still there, fighting them; and it's useless anyway, so vulnerable to everything. The body can get hurt, but nothing can hurt me here; the green will never reach me, but I can look at it.
Marluxia is a delicate carnleian orange. It's amusing, because it's a nurturing color; warm and safe. But Marluxia is not a nurturing person. He doesn't provide warmth and safety. He's probing, searching for me, but he will not find me either.
Larxene gathers her jade around herself and smacks the body's face, hard, and I'm being sucked – no! – down a hole, into a vortex, through the void and into this body. My lungs hurt and I think I'm crying but I think I can breathe. I think the universe left me when it realized it couldn't hurt me.
I wrap my arms around myself and I want to stop existing, because they had to see me like that. I thought that was over. I thought the delusions, or whatever they are, were getting smaller; getting better. I got so good at talking myself out of them; what happened? What was different?
I need to throw up, but I don't know if anything will even come out. I can't look up. Why can't I disappear? Why can't I shrink into nothing? Three inches high would be a very nice height.
"Are you done," Larxene asks, and there's something in her voice much too close to compassion for me to be comfortable. At least her words were irritable.
"I...yes," I say, and when I finally look up they're not laughing at me. They're not even looking at me. It's like they're letting me get dressed and they'll only look when I'm not naked anymore. It makes me cry a little more, but it's not like anybody could notice. I can feel my hands stuck into little open-ended rectangle shapes, like they always get when I can't breathe, but I'm starting to get some feeling in them again.
I wipe my eyes and smooth my shirt and sit in my chair again and tell them, "I'm sorry. I don't know what happened."
When Larxene turns to face me she's scowling.
"You need to eat," she says, and even though it's a nightmare, something in this is making me swell. It's perverse, it's disgusting, it's abnormal. I won't promise her anything, not right now, but that swell...for the first time, I understand. She's a bitch, and she's dangerous, but she just proved...she just proved she cares.
And that's what I'll hold onto, next time I feel like I'm slipping away.