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“ god, what is wrong with me?”
ena slammed her hands on her table before pulling them right back up to her face, pressing her palms hard against her forehead and leaning back hard into her chair. she exhaled, exaggerated sigh turned frustrated groan, moving her hands from her face to look once more at the subject of her agony.
in front of her on the desk stood her most recent artwork, canvas propped up on a desktop easel she’d picked up from a flea market an indeterminate amount of time ago. the artwork was beautiful. a soft sky reflected on a beach, each hue just right to make it look just like cotton candy, each detail shaded with precision to give it an almost realistic appearance. it was exactly what she had imagined it looking like, down to the stroke — a perfect manifestation of her creative process.
it was beautiful.
it was the ugliest thing she’d ever seen.
she groaned again, louder this time, just as disappointed looking at it this time around as she was the first. the sheer amount of hours she’d spent on it, all the paint, the newly-bought brushes, the materials, all for nothing. absolutely nothing .
without another word, she stood up violently quickly from her desk, shoving her rolling chair halfway across the room with the force. she snatched her phone from the small holder it was on, tossing it in a childishly tantrum-like motion before throwing herself into bed with it, shoving her face into the nearest pillow and letting out the loudest (muffled) scream she had in a while, violently slamming her fists into the cushions alongside her.
when she finally lifted her head, her face was red and streaked with tears, breathing ragged and heavy and labored and accentuated by soft sobbing hiccups. without thinking twice, she felt for her phone with a hand, snatching it from between the newly rustled blankets and plushies, holding it to her face. immediately she could see the way her mauve-brown hair was messy and fucked up and her eyes were red and her face was fucked up and everything about her was ugly and fake and god, her phone’s face recognition wouldn’t even let her in first try, that’s how fucked up she was. she was pathetic and a faker and unworthy and a complete sham and she would never, ever, ever have a true future or a true meaning or—
everything went white, familiar particles rising from the space behind her eyes as her entire self slowly morphed into the world that was the empty sekai, and finally at least she was in a place where she could walk for hours and scream out loud.
and, of course, the first person that she saw was the last person she wanted to see. it was just her luck.
at first, kaito didn’t even appear to notice her. he had his back turned and was far enough away that ena’s messy breathing didn’t quite reach the ears — in fact, he appeared to be humming his own tune.
but the second that ena started walking away from him, with steps heavier than any humming could mask, he turned to look at her over his shoulder, brows furrowed and arms crossed.
“what’s with you?”
that stopped her clean in her tracks. turning right on her heel, ena bored into him with a glare stronger than she’d been able to muster in a long while, fists clenched at her side with a force that would’ve caused her palms to bleed if her nails were any longer. “what’s with you? can’t you mind your own damn business?”
kaito’s eyes narrowed, turning his full body towards her now. “it’s hard to mind my own damn business ,” he mocked, voice laced with just as much venom, “when you’re busy throwing a tantrum.” he took a few steps forward, arms still crossed, clearing some of the distance between the two of them before leaning down slightly to get to her height. “if you didn’t want to be bothered, you should’ve watched your mouth and watched your step.”
ena pursed her lips into a thin line, tears threatening to spill from her eyes, frustration building up in her chest. “don’t talk to me,” she started, voice wavering, “like i’m a child.”
“then stop acting like one.” kaito’s brows furrowed further, looking her up and down with an indescribable expression. “shut up about all of this and start telling me what in the world is up with you. i won’t ask again.”
ena bit her cheek hard, trying to prevent herself from breaking down completely right here. all she wanted was a space to scream, to stomp and sob and hit the ground and lay in a mess of a heap when all the energy was spent. instead she was met with this stupid fucking confrontation and this stupid fucking man and his stupid fucking jabs. he would never even understand. he would never even get it. he had no life outside of the sekai, likely no true consciousness and certainly, with how cruel he was all the time, no conscience. talking to him would probably make it worse. she should just turn right back around and start walking in any direction and get lost so nobody would ever see her again—
“i just—“ it only took a few seconds for her face to feel hot again, tears freely flowing down her face, her breaths jagged again and expression turned pained. she looked, ashamed, to the ground and lifted an arm to her face, wiping the tears with her sleeve. “im just useless.” she paused for a moment, trying and failing at taking deep breaths. “i can’t do anything right, i— even when what i make looks good, it’s not enough. it’s not me. i can’t do anything right. i can’t stop failing. i’ll never have a future and everyone who’s my age has so much more talent and so much more ability and i- i just- it’s so hard.” she paused again, clearing her throat from the wetness of her sobs. she wasn’t even sure if she was audible anymore, or if she was even getting her words out right. there was so much pressure in her head. she must look so pathetic. “i’m sorry. but i don’t even know why i’m apologizing. i’m sorry.”
kaito hummed briefly, and ena couldn’t even tell what his tone was trying to convey. “doesn’t the rest of your group enjoy your art?”
“but that’s not the point, ” she cried, voice suddenly rising in volume, “ i don’t enjoy it. it’s not good enough for me. it’s not good enough.”
“how do you know,” kaito inquired, voice staying steadily monotone, “that your perception isn’t just wrong?” he lifted a hand to grab ena’s chin roughly, forcing her face up to look at him, and she gasped, tears flowing onto his frigid hand. entirely unbothered, he continued. “you’re stupid . your brain is stupid and limited and you obviously are extremely hindered by your sheer lack of emotional regulation. you are dumb and all of your thoughts about your art are subjective in all the wrong ways. you won’t always be stupid, god forbid, but as long as you continue down this route you will always be wrong.
“you are capable of making things that you enjoy, but you are wrong to think that it comes so easily that you can master this over the course of however long youve been working at your craft. and you are wrong to think that you will never have a future. but it’s up to you to decide whether your future will be as miserable and sad and pathetic as you are right now.”
ena grabbed at kaito’s outstretched arm with a hand, holding on to his forearm and trying desperately to take deeper, steadier breaths. “but i can’t just change how i look at my art. i can’t change that i don’t think it’s good enough. i can’t change that the outcome almost always sucks. that it’s not me. no matter what i try, no matter what mediums i use, it’s never enough.”
kaito stared at her for a few moments with his sapphire eyes, and if ena didn’t know any better she’d think he looked awfully concerned. “then stop trying.” he said simply, ripping his hand away from ena’s face and freeing it from her grasp, causing her to reel forward briefly. “stop trying to make something perfect. stop running yourself into the ground trying to make it ‘enough’ when you don’t even know what that means. if you can’t change your expectations, change your approach. give up on making it exactly what you want. learn from your mistakes and think about things objectively instead of wallowing in self-pity.” he crossed his arms again, standing up straight once more. “make the very few things you do enjoy instead of trying so hard all the time. and understand that there may never be a point where you’re fully happy, especially if you’re so convinced that you can’t change your mindset. if everything is hopeless forever, as you think it is, you may as well stop taking everything so fucking seriously.”
and for the first time today, ena felt as though there was no more anger left to spend. she wiped the remaining tears with her sleeve, looking at the ground again with brows furrowed, considering his words. she drew in a few more sniffles, using her hands to smooth out the fabric of her shirt. and after a few more moments, she looked up at kaito again, who now carried the same resting bitch face he had before this conversation, and every day before. before she could speak again, he raised a hand, palm faced towards ena in a ‘stop’ motion.
“listen, i’m glad you’re not sobbing anymore. it was getting aggravating. but i have no interest in anything you’re about to say to me.” he withdrew his hand and turned around, taking a few paces away before glancing back over his shoulder at ena again. “i have no interest in your art. if you want to bring it to this sekai, i will likely not look at it, but i know the rest might. if you ever feel a need for affirmation or validation — and i know you will — you already know not to come running to me. but the rest of us are far too soft to turn you down.”
once ena nodded, kaito turned completely away from her and began walking into the distance once more, humming the same tune he did before. all was back to normal in the empty sekai.
and ena stood, hands unclenched at her sides, feet firmly on the ground. and while the heaviness across her body hadn’t yet subsided, there were the very beginning kindlings of a newfound fire burning in her chest.