Worthless, Chapter Four: By Phoenix Pinion

Disclaimer – I own nothing but the story idea; Kingdom Hearts is not mine. Please don't sue

            How can anyone be sure of themselves? You know, full of zeal, ready to greet the day with open arms no matter how bad things are for them, despite their world falling down around their shoulders? They must see how insignificant they are, in the big picture. I mean, in all of those different worlds I visited, I could see how small and inconsequential I was. I am essentially an infinitesimal speck of dust in this huge universe. But who isn't? Nobody can really make a difference…can they?

            Why does everyone try so hard, then? What can they do? Nothing, I would assume. Even after I did all that I could do, Kairi still lost her heart. I still lost Riku to the darkness. Ansem is still rampaging at the end of the world, waiting for me to come to him and die at his hands; worlds are still being destroyed by the Heartless.

            …There I go again, being self-centered. I've always been so selfish. What's in it for me? I would always wonder. How can I turn everything to my favor? God, I'm such a fucking bastard.

            But, getting back to my original point, how can I be so different in such a bleak, desolate universe? How can self-mutilation be so out of the norm for such a race of insignificant beings? I honestly can't understand why people can be so shocked about my secret. Do they actually hold enough hope, enough stupid, useless hope, not to feel depressed? Not to hate themselves, like me?

            Maybe I am different. Maybe something is wrong with me. But what does it matter? I'm so worthless, so fucking self-centered…what's the point of my living anymore if I simply burden others with the weight of my presence? I'm sure that my being wiped out of existence will relieve others, the ones that claim to be my friend only out of pity for me.

            Yes. I deserve to die. Finally I have the courage to do it, too. (I'm such a coward. At least I'm finally confronting it.) That's why I'm dying right now, inside as well as out.

            Why does anyone care? About anything at all? Themselves, other, the world? Who even does care? I certainly don't. About my hubris, my flaws, my weaknesses…my life.

            I don't care about my life.

            Maybe that's why I'm different from everyone else.

            Maybe that's why my life is now bleeding away through the haphazard, uncaring slits in my arms and ankles.

            Maybe that's why I'm sobbing helplessly as I kneel in the murky water.

            Maybe…

            Maybe that's why I feel nothing…

            …Nothing except the soft bed that slowly warms my chilled bones and awakens me from the terrifying darkness. I'm…alive? But how? Maybe…it was all a dream…? But no, when I glance at my arms I see soft white bandages wrapped about them, white bandages that are stained a light pink from my blood. I am alive…but how? Someone must have found me. I shiver a bit in cold fear at that thought: I don't know who found me and brought me here, and I'm still not sure I even wanted to be found in the first place. Speaking of here…where is here?

            Quietly glancing around me, my eyes darting in frightened circles, I see a red-canopied bed that I am top of with a warm quilt lying on top of me to warm me; my large boots lay neatly stacked in one corner. Now I recognize this place. I am in a room of the hotel. Well, isn't it obvious? My mind hisses at me. You should have known right from the beginning, idiot! The place you tried to kill yourself in is right next to the hotel!

            I heavily sigh in agreement with my mind. I should have seen it sooner. I'm such an idiot. With another sigh, this one more simply an exhalation of air rather than an emotion-filled breathe, I bring my arm to my face. The pink is sickeningly speckled throughout the bandage, and I wince and look down to my ankles…to see the same thing. With a shudder, I look up. My own body is scaring me…that fact in itself is disturbing, let alone the fact that I'm not dead yet. I deserve to die…not to be resting in a hotel room…

            A sudden noise at the snugly locked door brings my frightened, panicked attention to it, and I watch, hiding my arms under the quilt, in a horrified fascination, as it slowly is unlocked, then begins to open. My rescuer steps in, ignoring my despairing look as he balances a tray of food on his arm: two mugs of an indistinguishable beverage, and one tray of food. I suddenly feel as if I am going to retch when he turns his dark, intense brown eyes on me, and sits on the edge of my bed with the tray now on his lap.

            "Sora," he says quietly.

            "Leon," I squeak back. His eyes are changing to an emotion I can pinpoint now: they stare at me sternly, yet in a concerned and scared way as he extends an arm to hand me a mug of the beverage. I notice for the first time that he wears a white long-sleeved shirt underneath his black one…and I begin to wonder. If he had saved me, why did he do it? Does he…do what I had just done…and if he does, why? Surprised, and still a bit panicked about my bloody arms, I take the cup and stare dumbly at it.

            "Drink it," his quiet voice penetrates my thoughts. "you need your strength." I'm still a bit subdued at the sheer emotion and intensity of his eyes, and stare down at the…tea?…as I begin to sip. It, almost shockingly to me, tastes wonderful. Leon lets me ponder and drink quietly, sitting and staring at me disturbingly, until I am finished. Then he whisks the mug from my hands and sets it on the tray. I'm shaking now…I'm just so panicked…what is he going to say?

            "Sora…what were you…doing when I found you underground?" When it's frightened like that, his voice sounds different than it usually does. Panic wells up inside of me, just like it did when I was accused during the meeting a few hours ago, but I swallow it down. The best thing to do right now is to act calm and try to change the subject. Yeah. Act calm, try and change the subject.

            "What were you doing there?" I challenge back. I think I did pretty well with an on-the-spot accusation, but Leon, who now looks pale and unsettled, simply waves the question off.

            "Now is no time for joking, Sora," he replies hollowly. His eyes leap in intensity as they continue to stare. And, suddenly, I feel so drained and tired. I've kept this a secret for far too long; I want to tell him everything, everything all the way from Neverland to now. I've needed to tell someone since then…but I've never wanted to…until now.

            So I do. I tell the whole story, including my thoughts of how worthless I am, how long I've wanted to kill myself, how often I've cut myself, how depressed I am…everything. I hardly notice that I'm sobbing, my large eyes spilling tears down my cheeks and onto my lap, until I'm finished with the story, and then I awkwardly knuckle them away with my hand. Leon's eyes are even a bit misted. But I feel better now…not as alone in the world anymore. With his eerily calm, yet intense eyes, he gazes coolly at my scars before deeply staring into my own orbs.

            "So you hate yourself," he murmurs, pausing for a moment to reach over with the rough pad of his thumb and nonchalantly brush away a tear that lingers on my eyelid. What, are you kidding? My mind screams. I hate myself! Loathe myself! What else is there to do but cut yourself when you hate yourself so much? I sniffle, shivering a bit, and nod at the question; Leon does not reply, but simply rolls his sleeves up. And I openly gape at the sight.

            Scars. There are more than nine scars, some horizontal, some vertical, some diagonal and some simply haphazardly sliced, on each of his arms. They are faded and a light shade of pink, only a few shades lighter than his skin, but visible none-the-less. I let my mouth hang open dumbly. These are not simply old battle scars: Leon has also tried to kill, or at least brutally maim, himself. Leon has gone through the same things I have gone through. Leon…Leon…oh my God…

            He laughs grimly at my alarm. "Did you think you'd see anything better?" he quips, but it is not very funny to me. All I see is the scars. So I'm not the only one…

            "Sora, listen to me," he says quietly. Still shocked, I close my mouth and force my attention on him and off of the hideous scars as he continues.

            "Sora, I used to have my own world. It was a good place…had its share of villainy and evil, of course, but what world doesn't? It was a generally 'good' place, and I liked it very much. I had a father. I had friends. I had…I had a girlfriend." His voice slightly cracks on the last word, and I see his eyes mist, but he shakes his head and keeps talking.

            "As you know, the Heartless destroyed my world. Half dead, I was flung to a forest outside of this town. I was the only survivor of my entire world. Everyone else…dead, brutally killed by the Heartless. It was a little bit disheartening, to say the least." He pauses for a moment for emphasis, and if I have any comments, but I am too absorbed in his past to say a word.

            "I was devastated. Everyone…gone. My whole life…gone. It was too much. I had survivor's guilt…so I did this," he gestures at his arm, and I cannot help but wince at the vicious stabs, "with my gunblade. I thought things could not get any better. But Yuffie happened to find me…she healed me with a few potions, and told me a few choice words that made me want to live. I decided to tag along with her…and look where I am now. I have a wonderful girlfriend, good friends…my life has meaning."

            He leans forward to stare at me, and I instinctively recoil back in shock. "What about your life, Sora?" he whispers. "Does it have meaning? Or are you just going through the motions?"

            To my own shock, I find myself crying. I know now…the depression, the sleepless, crying nights, the self-mutilation, all of it. It's because, in my own eyes, my life has absolutely no meaning. I would wonder almost constantly, What's the point? Why should I be alive? Who cares about me? Life was simply an unwanted side in my mind. Why deal with it? Why make the best of it? 

            Now I understand why I wanted to commit suicide. Oh my God…All the pieces have completely fit into place!

            Suddenly, Leon places his palms firmly on my down turned head, and slowly raises it until we are at eye level; the brown orbs blaze angrily at me. I take a long, shuddering breath as he hisses, "Just think of what would have happened if you would have carried out your plans back there in my training spot. How would everyone, not just your friends, not just this town, but everyone, had suffered? Did you even stop to halfway consider that before you selfishly pursued your own desires?"

            He releases me with a jerk, then stands. "It's your choice on what you'll do next, Sora, whether you'll stay alive or decide to die. After all, I can't tell you how to live." He turns away from me. "Just don't fuck up." The last phrase is strongly hissed at me before he walks out the door…leaving me a little bit ashamed, a little bit frightened…and a little bit wiser than before.

            Just don't fuck up.

            I nod to myself. That sounds more like the rough and tumble, badass Leon. Right now, I have some serious thinking to do. But I already know one thing: my thinking will be how I can survive the assault against Ansem that's ahead…and not how I can commit suicide, or mutilate myself, any more. I begin to distractedly mumble to myself about Ansem's known weaknesses as I start to unravel the bandage on my right arm…my Keyblade-wielding arm. I know I'll have someone waiting for me to return victorious from this battle. Many someones, actually. The whole universe depends on me…and I like that feeling. Finally, my life has a purpose. Finally, I'm needed. Finally, I'm beginning to truly love myself.

            "Watch out, Ansem. I'm ready to face you…"

~Game Over…or Continue?

Author's Notes – Hmmmm…should I continue this? Would I get beaten upside the head with a baseball bat if I didn't? I think this is a pretty good ending for the story, but if you want me to extend it to another chapter and I get enough reviews about it, I just might.

Yeah, I know that Sora had a turnaround rate from depressed to happy in about .2 seconds, but I know the feeling. It really isn't that OOC for a depressed person to turn around to being happy in a very short time. It happened to me after all. Yup, I know that feeling. ^_^ And no, Leon and Sora are not a couple! It's more of a father-son relationship! Sheesh…

Sorry about the long time before I updated again. I don't usually get to write, so when I do, I can usually finish a whole chapter in one sitting. So, yeah. If I do continue it, don't expect it to be up tomorrow…or in a week, for that matter. ^_^;;;

Anyway, thanks for reading all! If you want another chapter, review and I just might write one. Bye! ~PP