-- e r s a t z
z t a s r e --
TIDUS & NAMINÉ
…
She seemed untouchable. She seemed unbreakable. She seemed perfect.
And that bugged him.
Sometimes it made him want to holler out at her, insult her, dare her to show a single flaw. Dare her to show a vulnerable side, something to prove that she was actually human. Humans weren't untouchable, like her. Humans weren't unbreakable, like her. Humans were far from perfect. Real, life humans—people… people made mistakes. People did bad things. People misbehaved. People regret, reminisce. People hurt other people. Humans cried. And as far as he knew, she hadn't shed a tear in her life since birth.
She was always smiling.
She was always happy.
And that bothered him.
He wanted so much to bring out a fault in her. He wanted so much to show the human side of her that he practically made a vow. He made an oath. He promised himself, that he would reveal a sense of normality within that girl. He would show everyone, once and for all, that she was not equivalent to a perfectly tuned instrument—that she was far from the unblemished, untarnished, unimpaired porcelain doll everyone had believed her to be. He refused to believe it.
No one had the adequacy of being potentially perfect—and she was no exception.
He kept that vow.
He kept that oath.
He kept the promise to himself.
…
It was at twilight when he approached her, a glowering, smug look playing his tanned features. The descending tangerine sun served as an ambient backdrop for the two as he bore his dark cobalt eyes against her gemmed, preciously polished ultramarine orbs. He felt taken aback once he found himself a mere two feet away from her, appalled at her milky skin, her bleached white-gold hair that tumbled past her right shoulder, her simplistic white dress.
This was the girl he harbored venomous ardor for.
But did he harbor another feeling for her as well?
He had almost instantly brushed the sickening thought away, having to remind himself the matter he had yet to accomplish. His smirk returned, paying no heed when he only earned a gentle smile. It roused his stomach with an unknown, inexplicable sensation. Then he took a step towards the paradisiacal being—ember and competitive determination dancing in his eyes.
As the sun evaporated from the horizon, he walked away from the docks triumphantly.
He had found a flaw. He had found imperfection within the girl. And it seemed so easy!
She couldn't swim. And when she had so willingly confessed her weakness, he seized the golden opportunity to mock her—badger her—look down on her as she seemed to do so towards all other human beings. That was it: she truly was human. She had a foible part to her. She wasn't indestructible. She wasn't immortal, imperishable, incorruptible. She couldn't survive in water!
And he laughed and laughed for days, seemingly on the verge of insanity—all hail him.
All hail Tidus.
…
…
Though now he stood, his face vacant of expression or the slightest trace of emotion. His hands were jammed into his pockets and yet curled into tight fists. He was standing on the same dock he had approached her, forcing her to expose her weakness, a simple result related to water passing through her soft lips. He was standing, remembering. He was standing with regret… for he had forgotten the part he had so wittingly thrashed an insult at the girl, daring her to go out for a swim. Of course, she declined that afternoon—that twilight.
He was so stupid.
Because she wasn't here anymore. He had used her fear of water against her, and triggered a sense of upset perseverance within the girl. He had agitated her. He mentally, emotionally hurt her—he hadn't realized it until now. He hadn't known how wrong his sick oath was until now.
It happened at dawn.
She had disappeared within the frigid depths of ocean water, her body swallowed into azure oblivion for eternity.
He would never know that venomous ardor was a passion called love.
She was human. She was flawed.
He was human. He was a person—amongst people. Real, life humans—people… people who made mistakes. People who did bad things. People who misbehaved. People who regret, reminisce. People who hurt other people.
And Tidus had made a mistake.
He did a bad thing.
He misbehaved.
He'd live to regret it, and reminisce it.
And he had hurt another person.
Naminé… who was just as human as he was.
—f i n i s h e d—
disclaimer; kingdom hearts is not mine.