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The harsh wind on the rooftop wracked shudders through her body. It was cold, but Mizuki refused to go back.
Her paralyzed limbs didn’t feel like they belonged to her. Even if she managed to shift a little, she’d simply fall back onto the unforgiving tiles.
Ugh, why did this always happen to her? Mizuki scrunched her eyes shut, trying to ignore the world. It was fine to not care about anything for a little longer.
The howling gusts of wind slicing her cheeks were way too loud, but it didn’t make her want to tear her intestines out like her classroom did. Mizuki wanted to twist and twist and twist her insides until every strand of DNA inside her burst with one final pop.
Really, it was no wonder why she skipped class all the time. There was no escape from their judgement. They were judge, jury, and executioner. There was nothing she could do to make things right, because Mizuki was too far gone.
If she stayed silent in the face of all the whispers and stares, they would mock her. They’d ask if along with her common sense, Mizuki lost her ability to talk as well. It would make sense, they’d say. After all, something like her shouldn’t be able to communicate with anything above her standing. Since she dared deviate from the norm, taking away her expression entirely is an entirely fitting punishment for the damned.
If she stood up for herself, they would mock her. What right did she have, to protest as if she was worthy of attention? Mizuki was so arrogant, they’d say. As if an uneducated monster like her would understand the customs of civilized society. A dog doesn’t get to choose its label. The humans know best. Unintelligent, unsentient creatures should be good and not interrupt.
If she agreed with them, they would mock her. They’d giggle behind their hands, gleefully asking one another if they heard the same thing. Esteemed people like them would never disgrace themself by thinking the same thing as Mizuki. She was such a poor thing, they’d say, to think they’d allow her to lick their boots if she tried blending in. It was an absurd thing to think for an outlier like her, painted in neon green. Something as impure as her would never shine as brightly as their untainted souls.
If she just hummed in acknowledgement, they would mock her. Rolling their eyes, they’d complain about how boring she was. No wonder nobody liked her, they’d say. Mizuki was always so disagreeable. It was so fascinating, watching her pretend to be so much better than everyone. She always seeked so much attention, they’d say. Mizuki always tried to be “special”, while knowing there’s a reason the norm was the norm. The majority always won, and it seemed their dearest outsider had yet to learn that.
The only thing Mizuki could do was remove herself from the situation. It worked for now, but for how long? Everytime she ran away, the situation only got worse. She was such a coward, they’d say.
She didn’t want to think about what awaited her inside.
Clenching her fists, the voices flitted in and out of her head. Everyone was so hypocritical. What did they want her to do? Everything was a dead end. Every method was purgatory. There was no happy ending for Mizuki. She should just repent forever, always, in sight for everyone to gaze upon.
Everyone should just shut up. What did they know? What did they know about living like this? They were so loud and obnoxious and Mizuki just needed to get away.
Her fingernails buried deeper, picking at her dry skin. Lately, she’s been slacking on self-care. What was the point of it all? Even if she used to enjoy doing things like that, it was just too much work now. If any health complications arised, she could always just end everything.
At some point, she started scratching her arm. She clipped her nails into rectangles to have access to sharp points, but it scratched her skin even more than expected. This would leave a mark.
Well, at least her appearance matched her inner self more closely. Beastly scars would be a good match for Mizuki. She would be as ugly on the outside as she was inside.
With interest, she examined the wound. It was in the center of a sizable mound of raised flesh, the bump swelling continuously as she stared at it. Scratching it further revealed a wet and raw texture. Mizuki could see a layer of red deeper than the unbroken area around it, but there was no blood seeping out. It was a shame. Mizuki’s inhuman blood could have been donated to a lab for scientific observation.
It hurt at first, but as she kept scratching, she got used to it and the pain subsided. Mizuki couldn’t even hurt herself properly. How useless.
Her arm looked to be prone to infection, but she couldn’t bring herself to care, just rolling her sleeve back down. When did it roll up in the first place? Places and events in her mind kept blurring lately. Every day was the same montonous, boring haze. It was the same old, same old. Mizuki couldn’t remember much anymore, except the pain and hurt.
Even her enjoyment with her hobbies had dwindled. Nothing seemed to resonate with her anymore. Every positive emotion that she knew she possessed was hard to reach. The things that tide her over weren’t cutting it anymore.
The breeze rippled across her drafty uniform, brushing against her wound. It stung. It burnt.
It felt amazing.
Normally, Mizuki hated pain. She usually hated the aftermath of times like these, too. The injury flaring back up at unexpected times was such a bother.
But as of now, at this moment, everything was fine. Everything was better than fine. Like this, she didn’t need to think anymore. She didn’t need to live anymore.
…Agh, no good, no good. Everything was no good. Mizuki went right back to thinking.
The sharp sting of pain distracted her for a moment, but not enough. It was never enough. The pain would keep going on forever and ever until this carousel finally gave out. What was the point of momentary happiness if everything would lead right back to where she started? If she was doomed to live this truth over and over again, it was better to not live at all.
Yes, that sounded nice. Mizuki could put an end to everything— one final escape, for good this time. She was already on the roof, and nobody could stop her. The only people who came up here were weirdos, and even the weirdest of people would avoid her. It was bold of her to think, even for a moment, that she had any kin in this world. Mizuki did not belong in this world. Nothing could be as unnatural as her.
Even Rui was better than her. She didn’t get why they bullied him just for his passions. Talent aside, there was more to him than just that. He was so, so kind, even to someone as undeserving as Mizuki. She must’ve fooled him, somehow. There’s no way he could look at her in all her twisted form and have no issues. She was a terrible person. She had no redeeming qualities.
On that note, she really could end it all now. Rui had gone home, and he wouldn’t need to see her corpse. For some reason or other, the thought of something that would bring joy and delight to everyone else made him uncomfortable. How strange.
Jumping would mean she had to get up. She tried to muster the strength, but she didn’t move at all. It was as if a weighted blanket tied down her legs, with the fuzz clouding her mind and obstructing Mizuki from her goals. It choked her chest and smothered her heartbeat. The roof’s railing was right there, so why couldn’t Mizuki reach it? There was nothing wrong with her legs. She was perfectly healthy, and yet…
Useless, useless. Even this was no good. Nothing could turn out right for Mizuki. How fitting.
She had no idea how many seconds, minutes, or even hours passed, but eventually, she was able to crawl to the railing, heavy metal chains dragging behind her all the while. Her white-knuckled hands stretched taut gripped the railing as if it were a lifeline.
Hah, a lifeline. Pun unintended.
God, her humour was so messed up. She should just kill herself.
Raising her head, she offhandedly registered her hair whipping into her eyes. It stung, but it was annoying at best when she was about to achieve freedom at last.
She peered beneath the edge curiously, but it was the same scenery she and Rui had always seen. Mizuki was half-expecting everything to look different after she finally reached her resolution, but she supposed this cruel world would’ve changed already if it was that easy.
Well, it did. Everything looked so sparkly and cute when she was younger. Ah, how the years go by. Mizuki feels old.
She never expected to live this long in the first place. She thought the hunters would have already caught her with their torches and pitchforks, but alas. Mizuki had to take care of the big bad wolf herself.
Mizuki wondered why losing your faith in the world was so easy, but gaining it back was so hard. Was she doomed from the start? Why was everything so much easier when she was negative?
Trying to be hopeful meant she would have to suffer again in this endless loop.
Mizuki was tired.
Her eyes examained her surroundings once more.
…It was a long way down.
It was perfect, then. If she fell from this height, it was almost guaranteed she would die.
Go on, she told herself. Mizuki had to jump. Didn’t it sound so nice, to finally have reprieve from this harsh reality?
She gripped the railing harder, swearing the metal creaked underneath her hands. Summoning every ounce of want left within her body, Mizuki tried to move forward.
No, no, why couldn’t she at least do this? Why? What does she have left to live for? Why, why, why why why why why? Why was she still forced to live in this prison? Why did her body and mind and soul want her to suffer more? Why was everything useless? Why was everything worthless? Why was Mizuki doomed to suffer?
She collapsed back onto the ground. This was why Mizuki liked getting invested in random media to drown out her thoughts. Existing was hard.
Mizuki wanted to die, and yet. A frustrated exhale left her nose.
She hated her body through and through.
Her sister’s face came to mind. If she died, Yuuki would be sad, but she didn’t necessarily understand why. Mizuki would be doing the world a favour by ridding them of the accursed dent lowering the original value of the masterpiece.
Mizuki was burdening Yuuki most of all. She made so many cute outfits for her, just for Mizuki to never wear them. Why didn’t she hate her? Why did she smile so much, just because Mizuki was alive? What worth did Mizuki bring to the table?
All Mizuki brought to the world was sadness, anger, and disgust. Why did Yuuki feel any differently? Why did she… love Mizuki?
Rui, too. Whenever she actually came to school and joined him on the roof, he’d always get that pleased glint in his otherwise exhausted, soulless eyes. His smile sometimes even became a shade more genuine.
Mizuki doesn’t understand. Rui came to the roof for solitude from everyone and everything, and Mizuki disrupted his peaceful safe space. Then again, Mizuki wanted to isolate herself too, but she kept coming back to the roof. Maybe misery really did enjoy company.
Mizuki didn’t do anything special for either of them. She sat in silence as they talked about whatever interesting thing caught their eye. Fashion, shows, robots, and the like. Sure, sometimes Mizuki piped up with a teasing remark or two, but anybody could do that. Why did they seek out her company specifically? Why did they care about her?
She wasn’t dense. For some reason, she was irreplacable to them. Nobody else accepted Rui for who he was. Nobody else made Yuuki’s face light up like that. Other people could, but they didn’t. It was only Mizuki. She had a place and an importance in their lives, for now.
She understood that, but emotions weren’t logical. Rui once said that they were simply causes of an effect, but did that apply if Mizuki didn’t know what she felt in the first place?
She knew they cared about her. However, thinking about it made her feel… so icky inside. They shouldn’t care for her. Not if they didn’t want to get hurt. Mizuki wished just being unused to care would explain her feelings.
Maybe it was the fact she almost died today? She could die at any time, any day, and nobody would ever know. Human bodies were so fragile. They broke so easily.
She wondered what they were doing. Would Yuuki be comparing swaths of fabric, excited to share some anecdote about it to Mizuki? Was Rui working on one of his inventions, prepared to rope Mizuki into his antics? If she had hit the ground, what would they have felt?
Sighing, she shook her head to clear her thoughts. It was hard to think about, so she wouldn’t.
Honestly, she would never get some people. Mizuki chalked it up to them being incomprehensible.
Getting to her feet, she glanced back at the railing again, before walking away.
Not today. In the future, maybe. Definitely, in fact. There was no way she was surviving until high school, especially since Yuuki was studying abroad with Rui graduating this year.
Mizuki sighed. She should get used to people abandoning her already.
But for now, she’d just cherish what she had, incomprehensible as it were. She hasn’t sunken, not yet.
She still didn’t want to go inside and face their judgement. Who knew what schoolmates were lingering? At this point, though, Mizuki should just suck it up and go home.
She thought of her parents, ready to welcome her home. Yes, it would be a waste to not survive today. Tomorrow and all the days after were uncertain, but she could survive today. Probably. Maybe. Quite possibly.
Her fingers pressed on her earlier wound, relishing at the pain. If not, then that could tide her over. Mizuki should probably be more concerned at the sheer relief it brings, but she never cared for her well-being anyway. If more wounds end up piling up, so be it.
It would make Yuuki sad, she knew. But Mizuki only had so much care to spare. Placing any expectations on her was a waste. Yuuki and Rui’s care for someone like her was a waste. Everything that happened today was such a waste.
She should just throw away all her memory of today. You should throw away anything that’s defective, that’s useless—
Like Mizuki herself.
She opened the rooftop door.