Chapter 29: Crossing the Bridge
Utter devastation.
It's the only phrase that could describe what happened. I never had a chance. I thought I had control, but it was all just an illusion. She pulled back the curtains and exposed the people around me for what they were: actors, saying the lines that I wanted to hear, all in order to pull me into this fantastic fiction of hers.
Having rendered me speechless, she had the gall to offer me a ride back home. I declined and left the studio to wander the streets, and now I'm lost. I move aimlessly, my mind stuck in a vicious loop of denial. Where do I go from here? What's next? Is there even a "next" for me? Will I be controlled by this sickness for the rest of my life?
I look around, my eyes poring over every detail of this island: the thatched roofs, the earthen colors, and those palm trees with their classic silhouettes against the orange sky. Is this world just one big set? Am I just a bit player in Naminé's grand drama? I l marvel at the sky's vastness and realize my insignificance. I'm just one guy. What can I hope to do against a god? Mere mortals can only speculate as to the intentions of higher powers. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and yell out with all my heart, "FUUUUUCK!"
Something about yelling profanities at the top of my lungs does the soul good. Nearby pedestrians pause, but only for a few moments. That's Destiny Islands for you. Nothing fazes them. What was I doing, playing the role of broken man? There's no time for self-pity. Defeat is only an adjustment of perspective. Were I anybody else, perhaps I'd be crawling and begging for mercy from the heavens but I'm no mere mortal—I'm Sora Hikari, and I'd be damned if I let something like this stop me.
But that was one hell of a surprise. Who knew she had that kind of personality? Her utter disregard for the feelings of people around her, the way she fakes her vulnerabilities, all so that she can manipulate them, it's textbook sociopathy. Despite their inhuman qualities, sociopaths are the most likely to succeed. When you think of others only as stepping stones, success is only a matter of who to step on. For actors like Naminé, the ability to switch personalities is either a function of talent or sociopathic tendency.
The world is filled with people like this but only few are puppet masters. Naminé and I… We're cut from the same cloth. We think of others only as pieces for us to play with. "It's for their own good," we think, as we continue to pull their strings and have them dance to our silly songs. It's how we maintain superiority and justify our actions. Freedom is just an illusion. We're all puppets playing for a higher cause. We don't choose what we do; we only pick from the choices given to us.
Now that I've gotten a taste of my own medicine, I realize that I've been an epic asshole. Objectively, I haven't been that bad, but considering the intent behind my actions, I qualify. Actions may define a character, but it's thought that defines action. I understand too well Naminé's frustration with this mundane world. It's all just a game. People are nothing but walking variables to be manipulated. I've been treating everybody like pawns from day one. I believed it was for the purpose of becoming "normal," but there's nothing normal about toying with people for my own amusement.
It doesn't take a hard look in the mirror to see how shitty I've been. All it takes is to meet someone like myself. That's what really ticks me off. As much as I hate to admit it, Naminé and I are too similar. The insults I've hurled at her apply to me as well. I'm just a sheltered idiot who's never lived a real life. I've always lived on my own terms, as a lone wolf and mercenary. Although mercenaries show no loyalty, they are still bound by their contracts, and as it turns out, Naminé was holding mine—literally. Before I left the studio, I was given a contract. If I sign it, I become an official cast member of Chain of Memories. The deadline? Saturday, the day of the concert, the last day I could hold off before Rikku announces my secret to the world.
I thought maybe, just once, I could put my trust in someone. For all of Naminé's scheming, none of it stings as much as the possibility of betrayal. A part of me wants to believe in Rikku, but I can't argue with the evidence. She's the only person who knows my secret. The only way Naminé could possibly know is through her.
Betrayal hurts. Not like my sickness. It's a rather unique pain, right in the chest, like a fire, all consuming, threatening to overwhelm, burning everything I've got. I guess this is why the last circle of hell is reserved for traitors. There's nothing quite as exquisite as the pain of betrayal. It's like your parents telling you they wished you were never born, your teacher saying that you'll never amount to anything, or your only friend telling you that you should just die.
How could she lie through her teeth like that? She told me I was a good person, told me that she would keep my secret, but instead, she betrays me. She made it look so easy and effortless, like breathing, with no hesitation, and not even a single hint of her true intention. I pride myself in being able to read people. Did she really fool me, or was I just fooling myself? Even if it feels like death, I can't cycle through the five stages of grief here. I have to continue as I've always done, with grit and determination.
I've never been in this position before. Sure, I've encountered annoyances in the past, but that's all it was, an annoyance. I've never once felt real pressure, that uncertainty of life, never knowing and always doubting. I've seen others suffer from it. They are at life's mercy. Driven by insecurities, they trip and fall over themselves and wind up making poor decisions. For the first time, I feel the heat. I've been under the weather plenty of times but this kind of heat is different. My health isn't just at stake here; it's my entire way of life and future. I'm hanging by a thread, just teetering on the edge of oblivion.
I've always been above it, that stereotypical malaise brought about by trivial concerns—whether or not I'm liked by others or how to make friends… Before I knew it, I became human. Because of that, I'm experiencing a gamut of emotions that range from shitty to shittier. Now I understand why people do the things they do, like putting your faith in someone, trusting others, and believing in your friends. Despite the damage dealt to me...
I won't submit. She may have won the battle, but the war still wages. As masterful as Naminé has been, she's made one grave miscalculation: she's put me in desperation mode. Humans are no more capable than in times of emergency. The root word for emergency is "emerge," and what emerges from such situations other than miracles?
There is a bridge I've yet to cross. It's nothing but a piece of rope tied from one tree trunk to another. I'd be risking everything just to cross it. I've tried to look for other ways around but there is no other way. I thought I had time but the situation's changed. On my side of the ravine is a man-eating bear and it is extremely hungry. I'm given the hard choice: do I cross the bridge and risk falling to my death, or bide my time and risk being eaten alive?
I have my answer. I won't be devoured; I won't give Naminé the satisfaction. If I'm going out, it'll be on my terms. I probably should've done this a long time ago, but better late than never, right? Somehow, I arrive at my house. Perhaps my feet led me back unconsciously. I won't be coming in, not yet. I eye my true destination: the house next door. I know what you're thinking. Am I crazy? Maybe a little. It's about time I quit playing around and get something done for a change. The only leverage Naminé has on me is my secret. The solution is obvious then: make the secret disappear.
If I can overcome my love sickness before it's revealed, then the announcement will be nothing more than a bad joke. The worst kind of news is old news; it doesn't matter if it was once true. The present is fleeting and it cares not for the past. I always knew my condition was related to Kairi somehow, but I was afraid to cross that bridge. If I can figure out the source of my trauma, then I'll be one step closer to finding the cure. I have no excuse. It's time to meet my maker.
I knock on the door to the Uchida household. It opens to reveal a surprise guest, a red-haired woman dressed in a sharp suit. Cissnei Uchida, Kairi's mother, was supposed to be working overseas, at least according to Reno. What's she doing here?
"Surprised to see me? I'm here just for today. I'm on a small business trip, so I'll be out of your hair soon enough," she informs. "I'll be leaving tomorrow, but I couldn't pass up a chance to see my daughter. You wouldn't happen to be thinking the same thing, are you?" Actually, I am. Fools do often rush in where angels fear to tread, and even though I'm no angel, my fear is just the same.
"Uh…" My nerves are frayed and frazzled. When my mind is set, I don't waver. I came to this conclusion after much thinking. I can't be getting cold feet. "Yeah. I am." The words are hard to spit out. To think Naminé could've broken me like this... Haven't I steeled my resolve? I have to do this.
"Do you want me to call her down?" she offers.
"No, I'll come up."
"Don't get in too much trouble," she warns playfully. She steps aside to let me in. "Her room's the first one on the left, if you don't know already." Of course I know, because it's right across from mine.
"Excuse me then." I walk in and see the stairs. They appear unusually high and wide. I'm getting vertigo just looking at it. Last chance to bail… Ha. Like I have a choice. Being deprived of choices sucks but it makes things easy. I can only move forward. It's do or die time. I climb the stairs and make a left to find her door. This is it. Kairi's room. I rap it lightly with my knuckles.
"Who is it?" the occupant asks. That sweet heavenly voice. It's thick, like syrup, and almost suffocating. My body is telling me: GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, but the mind knows better. I'm prepared to do what is necessary, even if it costs me my life.
I gulp. "It's me, Sora."
"Is it?" she says excitedly. "Let me get the door." My hands clamp on to the knob tightly. She tries to open it to no avail. "Huh?"
"Don't. It's better this way. Let's just talk through the door." This was the reason I wanted to come up. Just like the other day, I wanted a barrier between us. My knees are buckling and my fingers are cramping just from her voice. If I saw her, it'll be the end of me. "Please?"
"Okay…" She sounds disappointed.
I let out a breath. So she can be reasonable sometimes. Good to know. I breathe in deeply. "I have something important to tell you."
"You can't tell me face-to-face?"
Like last time, "No."
"Then what is it?"
Talk about nerve wracking. Is this that feeling—trepidation, fear, and uncertainty? I think I owe Hayner an apology. It's too easy to call it from the sidelines, but when it's my turn to go up to bat, the pressure is more than palpable. My muscles are screaming and my heart is begging for release, pounding against my ribcage. Confrontation is scary. I wouldn't be breaking a sweat if this was any other girl, but this is Kairi, my personal harbinger of doom, who can destroy me with a mere glance. When one stands before a goddess, what can I do but bow? I fall to my knees out of fatigue.
"I…" Why is this so hard to say? I get sick. Girls make me sick! Just say it!
"Yes…?" She's killing me every time she opens her mouth. Each word is a dagger into my back, and her breathing is the twisting of the blade. I don't have the heart to continue. I think I'm gonna pass out right here.
"I think I'm going to be sick…" I cough out.
"What? Right now?" she yelps, alarmed.
The door knob turns but I grip it tightly with both hands. "NO, I'm fine!" I'm seriously gonna die here. The knob is rattling off its screws. I press upon it all my strength, both physical and mental. I have to hurry this up before I disintegrate into a puddle of goo. "It's just…"
"It's just…?"
"It's just—I mean, what I'm trying to say is…"
"What?"
"I just wanted to say that—" Son of a bitch, goddamned piece of—JUST. FUCKING. SAY IT ALREADY! "—YOU MAKE ME SICK!"
Dead silence.
My hand shoots to my mouth immediately.
I just blew a gasket. They didn't hear that from downstairs, did they? Wait, who cares about that? I just exploded right in front of her! This is not good. Of all the things to say—I say it like that? I just signed, sealed, and delivered my own death warrant. This must be it, that thirty second countdown before execution. In just a few moments, 2000 volts will course through my body and my heart will stop—
"I…make you sick?" She says it so innocently, it almost makes me laugh. Are you telling me you don't already know? You're god! Don't feign ignorance! You know full well about the effect you have on me! I can't keep it inside anymore. I have to—
"Yes, that's right. You make me sick. Every time I see you, the only thing I want to do is throw up. Hell, it's the only thing I can do. Whether it's seeing you, hearing your voice, or feeling your touch, it makes me wanna curl up and die. You make me feel more miserable than anything in this world." Oh great, I've totally lost it. I broke the valve and I can't stop it anymore. It's coming out like a bad case of diarrhea. "Even the thought of you makes me nauseous. My stomach cramps, my limbs get numb, my knees so weak that I can barely stand. I get horrible headaches, white flashes, it's like I'm at death's doorstep every moment I'm with you. Thanks to you, I've already thrown up more times than I can count. The lining of my esophagus has already gone to shit. Seeing you, being with you, is the most horrible physical affliction that I wouldn't wish upon my worst enemy even if they killed my whole family and shot my dog. The pain you give me is worse than a bullet ant bite, worse than a jellyfish sting—it is the closest one can reach unconsciousness through sheer overload of sensory pain without actually dying." I'm gasping for breath, taking in deep droughts to cool my head. I'm not sure I'm even talking to her anymore. Is this real? Am I dreaming? Have I already passed out and this is all just in my head? She hasn't said anything. Maybe this is my imagination. Guess it wouldn't hurt to say a little more. "That's why… You're the only one I can go to right now." She remains silent. I suppose after an outburst like that, there's nothing to be said. You'd think I'd feel better after letting it all out, but I feel even worse. I can't even keep my head up anymore. "I think I'll…go leave now."
"Wait."
Oh, she's still there. That's a good sign… I think. Who am I fooling? There's no way this can be a good sign. I close my eyes in anticipation of a lashing the likes of which the world has never seen. I'm about to crucified. I must make an offering to appease her wrath! "If-if it's any consolation, it's not just you. Every girl makes me sick. But out of all the girls I know, you're the worst."
"I see…" I detect a small hint of relief. Did she accept my humble offering? "Sorry, I never knew, and after all that I've done to you, I… I'm sorry."
What? Let me repeat that: WHAT? Why's she apologizing to me? Is this some kind of reverse psychology? This is a test, isn't it? Oh man, what's the right answer here? What do I say? "If anyone should apologize, it's me. I just told you…a lot of terrible things actually."
She chuckles. She actually chuckles. I'm getting the shivers here. "I admit it's the first time I've heard someone go off on me like that, but it's not like you were trying to hurt me. That's just the truth, isn't it?"
"And the truth hurts." I feel… Well, I don't feel any better. I'm still on my knees, greasing her poor doorknob with my palm sweat, and my head is burning so hot, I can see the steam coming out of my ears. "You're not gonna use it against me?"
"Why would I?" She's offended. I don't get her. Hasn't that been her whole game, to torture me with pokes of death?
"I don't know... Up until now, you've had a mean streak," I reply.
"You mean my teasing? I was just…trying to get closer to you, that's all." And why would you want to do that? "You don't think I was out to get you, did you?"
"Every other girl in my life is gunning for my throat. What's one more to the collection?" I can see why some may consider girls deceptive, wretched, little creatures. I've been on the receiving end of their evils since time immemorial.
"If girls make you so sick, then why are you always with them?" I swear I hear jealousy. That can't be right.
"It's because I'm trying to overcome my condition."
"Yet, the only one you avoid is me." Is she pissed? What does this mean? Tell me, oh sweet, merciful god!
"When you put it that, it doesn't make any sense." Haven't I explained plenty of times why I can't approach her? It's because… I forgot, but I'm sure when I explained it earlier, it made perfect sense. No, that's not right. I'm just lying to myself again. In reality, I was just running in circles and avoiding confrontation. I really am a coward. "Why would you care? I'm just your next door neighbor."
I hear a soft thud on the other side. Her shadow peeks out from below the door. She must be leaning against it. "It must've taken a lot to tell me that." A lot? No, it took more than that.
"It took everything. You don't know how hard it was for me." Even I couldn't anticipate how draining this ordeal has been. Lightning's hell laps have nothing on this.
"That's more guts than I'll ever have," she says plainly. "Truth is… I also have something to confess."
My ears perk up. "You do?" I mean, of course you do! I've suspected this for quite some time.
"It's only fair, and this concerns you too. As a matter of fact, this is the reason why I've wanted us to be friends in the first place."
"What is it?" I ask quickly. I want to know. I need to know. Just as much as I needed to tell her my secret, I needed to hear hers too. The significance of this moment is not lost on me. Even though I'm barely holding on to my consciousness, I have enough reasoning capacity to know that this will probably be the most important revelation I will ever hear in my life. My heart slows down to a crawl and my lungs rapidly eat up any remaining oxygen left over because I've already stopped breathing.
"I have monophobia."
My hands slip off the doorknob and my forehead hits the door. "OW!"
"What was that? Are you okay?"
I squeeze the knob again just in time. "Don't worry about me," I excuse quickly. "I was just a little surprised." My body remembers how to function and I start breathing again. So that's it… Monophobia. I've heard of it before. How could I not when my bedtime stories consisted of passages from the DSM-IV, the encyclopedia of all officially recognized mental disorders? Monophobia is fear of being alone.
And it all falls into place. Why she's so popular and why's she always surrounded by people, it's because she's afraid of being alone. She makes an embarrassed laugh. "Without others, I'm crippled by anxiety. I've had this far as long as I can remember. No matter where I go or who I'm with, I always feel like I'm going to be abandoned, that everybody will just disappear the next second. Have you ever been lost as a kid? Like in a mall or something? I feel like that everyday. Not knowing whether I'd see my parents again, see home again, almost as if everything was just a bad dream." I haven't been the only one who's suffering. There are others like myself, like dad, mom, and now Kairi. We suffer silently, keep our secrets hidden, and deceive others to keep the peace. "I hate it. It never feels like the people around me are real. I can never tell what they're thinking. I don't want to be alone. Not ever. That's why I decided to make as many friends as I could. I read everything I could get my hands on. Magazines, websites, books—I just wanted to be popular."
"I'd say you've been pretty successful."
"Tch, yeah, I have, haven't I?" She sounds miserable. "The more friends I made, the more alone I felt. Just because they're there doesn't mean they're really there. I wanted to tell someone about my monophobia but… I was always afraid that they'd leave me because of it. I know it's stupid but I couldn't… I didn't want them to know. I was afraid to give anybody an excuse to leave me." Who has it worse, I wonder? I mean, comparing mental disorders is a pretty shitty thing to compete about, but which one of us has suffered more? "The more people I became friends with, the more meaningless it felt. They tell you 'hi' when they see you, leave messages on your homepage, and send you texts everyday, but that's all it is. They're no different than objects. They're just there. And I can't do anything except smile and pretend that everything is alright." She smiles and grins; I frown and scowl—two sides of the same coin. "Did you know, Sora, that a smile is the most devious thing in this world? As long as you smile, people think everything's fine. It's a stupid, little, preposterous thing. What can a smile do? It's just an empty expression. Nobody knows. They never know. They can't know. Because I don't want them to, but I want them to. I hate it, this condition of mine..."
She's just like me. Perhaps it's even worse. My harbinger of doom was nothing more than a lonely girl. It'd be comical if it wasn't so serious. Mental disorders aren't things to laugh at. "You've had it bad. I can't imagine." Quite frankly, I don't want to imagine. I've had problems enough as it is. "I had no idea."
"I can say the same for you. Aren't we both pretty fucked up?"
"Amen." Truer words have never been spoken. I don't know whether to laugh or cry. Kairi turned out to be mortal like the rest of us. All this time, I've put her on a pedestal as some god of destruction. In truth, the only thing destroying us was ourselves.
"There are only a few people who make me feel safe and sound," she says. "As long as I'm with them, I don't feel anxious. The first are my parents, and the second is… You."
I finally let go of the doorknob. That was the last piece of the puzzle, the last letter in hangman, the final clue in a murder mystery—everything's that happened—all of it—makes sense now. Upside down is right side up, left is righted, and forward actually goes forward. Everything's stopped spinning. Everything I've done and everything she's done was just an elaborate dance of sick minds. I turn myself around and lean against the door. "That's why you were always chasing after me."
"Yes…" she admitted. "I knew from the very first moment I saw you that we were connected somehow. I've never felt so secure meeting someone for the first time. I don't believe in fate but… I know we've met before, because… For whatever reason, you make me feel safe. Whenever I see you, whenever I hear your voice, just knowing that you're there, makes me feel normal—happy even. Even now, I feel more comfortable than ever."
I'm getting goosebumps. Is this sympathy, empathy, some kind of thy? "Not that would I know but… This kind of sounds like a confession."
"A confession? It's funny. Love is all my friends talk about, but I have no idea what it's like. With my monophobia, it's impossible for me to have a boyfriend. I'd be afraid he'd leave me the whole time." Just like me, romance was only a pipe dream for her. Our circumstances didn't allow for something so ideal.
"I can relate. The day I kiss a girl is probably the day I die."
She laughs softly. "When I first saw you, I wanted—needed you to be my friend. I used every trick in the book but none of it worked. I tried my best but you always turned away, averted your gaze, and ran. It was a nightmare, really. The one person I wanted to be my friend was already trying to abandon me. My worst fears were coming true." Her voice starts to crack. "At that point, it didn't matter whether you were my friend or enemy. I just wanted to be close to you. Whether you hated me, liked me… As long as you were nearby, I could feel at ease." She barely contains a sniffle.
She's the most popular girl in school and yet, she's the loneliest one there. It's because she's lonely that she's the most popular girl in school. I can feel the weight of the world on her shoulders. Her worries resemble mine so strongly I can't help but want to lend a shoulder. But I can't. That'll kill me too. If it took my all to spill my guts, what about her? Isn't it scarier? I'm her one source of comfort outside her parents. Isn't she afraid that I'd run away after hearing this? "Are you afraid?"
"More than anything."
I've never heard anything more honest or terrible in my life. My heart drops and I find something unexpected inside. "Don't worry, I won't leave you." The words leave my mouth before I realize it.
She gasps. "Sora, can I... Ask you a question?"
"Y-yeah." What is this feeling? It's happening again, but it's never been this strong. It's almost like... I'm floating.
"Do you…" She trails off, afraid to continue.
"Do I what?"
"…hate me?" This is probably the most important question she's ever asked. Her life hinges on my answer. I lean back and look at the ceiling. To be honest? I hate the way she makes me feel, I hate the way she makes me act, but herself?
"No. I don't hate you."
"Thank god." She laughs. It's different this time. It's the most genuine laugh I've ever heard from her. And you know what? It doesn't make me sick. Instead, I feel…warm. "When you told me how I made you sick, I was really scared there. The more you explained it though, the more it finally made sense. It actually made me a little happy." I'm glad someone enjoys my suffering. Not.
"Nothing happy about it."
"I know, but still… I'm relieved. If you don't hate me, does that mean… You like me?"
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves here." She giggles. I let out a long sigh. How ridiculous is this? I get sick when I'm close to her and she feels safe when she's close to me. Fate's got one twisted sense of humor. Of course, I don't believe in fate, only cause and effect. We've both been living with shitty effects so far, it's time to find the cause. "Do you believe in coincidence?"
"Coincidence is nothing more than statistical probability." I smile at the answer. Spoken like a true victim of mental debilitation "Our conditions are linked together. That's why we've been trying to dig up details on each other."
"In our own way, we've been chasing after the same thing: an answer for our condition." I always thought it was a race between us, but as it turned out, our legs were tied together. It's a three-legged race and the finish line lies somewhere in our past.
"In that case, do you think we can…start over? A fresh start, not as fake friends, but…as real friends." She realizes how ludicrous her request was. "Never mind. I don't even know what it means to be a real friend." Me neither. But after all I've gone through, I think I have an idea.
"A real friend," I say suddenly, "is someone you can trust, someone who would never betray you, someone who helps when you're in trouble—simply put: someone you can rely on." The definition has always eluded me until now. I think I finally understand why friends are so important. "A true friend is someone who never abandons you."
"Someone who never abandons me?" I knew that line would have particular resonance for her.
That's right. What I need right now is… "Can I ask you for a favor, Kairi?"
"Anything."
"Can I put my trust in you?" I know it might be sudden, especially after having my trust broken by Rikku and Naminé, but that's exactly why I have to do this. It's scary, putting my life in another person's hands, but knowing that there's someone there for me, even if she makes me wanna die, is something I desperately need right now. I can't do this alone. I need someone on my side. I've alienated all the people around me. She's the only one left standing. Besides, after all she's said to me, it'll be cruel to abandon her. This is my chance to turn over a new leaf.
"Yes." I believe her. Not because I have to, but because I want to. After we've exchanged our guts like this, how can we not rely on each other? With every one of her words, I can feel her sincerity. Maybe it's all in my mind, but I'm ready to believe. We're bound to each other now. Sorry, Naminé, but this contract supersedes yours. "But only if you do me one favor in return."
"And what's that?"
"Will you be my friend?" There's no such thing as coincidence. Only statistical correlation. The probability of our connection has just went from 99.9% to 100% with that question. "I've said this to you before, haven't I?"
"You have." And it comes back to me, my answer from long ago. "Do you remember my answer?"
"Of course."
Life can be described as a series of bridges. Some of them easy and some of them hard to cross. Every once in a while, we hit a chasm so wide it doesn't seem possible. Even if you can't see it, there is always a bridge. It may be flimsy, but it's there, and no matter how many bridges we've crossed, it will be scary, risky, and possibly dangerous. We may want to forget about it and find easier bridges to cross, but there is something waiting for us on the other side. Do we really want to leave it behind? I didn't find the answer to my problem after crossing this bridge, not yet anyways, but I did find something just as important.
A true friend.
"Don't worry. I won't leave you."
