Serene was irreparably a loner. A loner that isn't worth putting a price tag on, so concerningly average and comparable to a doll people would keep on the shelves and forget about. No hobbies, and no important people, if you asked her about anything, she would just fumble over her words and squirm because barely anyone talked to her.
It's pitiful.
But Alice wasn't. Alice was perfect. Unbelievably so, inhumanly so, the "always knows what she's doing" type of perfect. She's charismatic, pretty, mischievous, and hailed as a genius. Sweet little Alice was by no means similar to Serene. And yet she still stayed.
Smiling and laughing with no care in the world. So, so, so bright.
(Maybe there was a time when she was the one standing on that stage. No, maybe there would've been a time when the spotlight was all for her and no one else.
But she doesn't know that. So she keeps dreaming.)
They say birds of a feather flock together— but that wasn't true.
Serene wasn't a bird and neither was Alice. Alice was more like a fox— intelligent, mischievous, and playful— while Serene was nothing but a measly sheep. Always so cowardly, always dodging everything, always meaning nothing, and avoiding everything—
But that same, measly, self-loathing little sheep had a fox for a friend.
Even if that same fox was intimidating, always pushing her around like some fragile toy, always smiling and grinning like Serene was nothing but a test subject to observe.
Serene considered Alice as her best friend.
"Yuki, you're always so timid."
In the face of Serene's fragility, she only smiled even wider. Why is it that she looked alive, so human only in times like this?
She steps closer, lowering herself so they are face to face with her hands on her hips as she admires Serene's sweaty expression.
This friendship of theirs, whatever you called it was weiighing her down. Like chains. Maybe they were. Maybe she was chained down or a bird locked in a cage.
What was it that Alice loved about Serene's fright? Was it how her sadistic expression reflected in her wide eyes? Was it how her eyes grew dimmer each time it happened?
"Oh, don't be afraid. You didn't do anything wrong."
Cold Arms wrapped around Serene's hyperventilating torso.
They were cold. So, so cold. Like the arms of a corpse.
It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. Why is it comforting? It's so sticky. It's disgusting. The blood on her hands was so disgusting.
Get it off.
Ah,
Why can't I hate it?
(Why can't I hate you?)
But in a life where she had no one but Alice, did she even have a choice?
"...What's that?"
"Hm?"
Alice looked up from where she was sitting on the couch, staring at Serene's face.
"Uh..."
She coughed awkwardly.
"That thing. On the windowsill."
There was a pot painted in obnoxious purple sitting in front of the glass, facing the sun. Serene knew Alice's apartment like the back of her hand— at least, she thought she did, she wouldn't be surprised if Alice kept a secret room hidden from prying eyes— and that potted plant was never there.
"Oh? You mean my little Serene?" She grinned but like usual, there was no light in her eyes. Serene doesn't know why she keeps looking for something that obviously isn't there.
"Serene?"
"Yeah."
"Serene?"
"Mhm."
There was a certain glint in her eyes that Serene didn't exactly want to decipher.
"You named it? Serene? The plant???"
"Yeah," She tapped the pen to her lips, "It would've been confusing if I named it Yuki too, right?"
Serene, or rather Yuki, didn't respond, just staring at the plant as if it wronged her. Distraught and simply offended.
For a second, Alice's expression softened to that of surprise. She tilted her head innocently.
"Now, now, even if I make the effort to water it every day and make sure it doesn't kill itself, that doesn't mean you're less important to me." In normal circumstances, Serene would've snapped out of it and scolded Alice for baby-talking her. Except, this wasn't normal circumstances.
(What even is normal anyway?)
"That's not the problem here!"
Serene waved her hand quite violently, motioning to the plant, "It has my name! Serene is my name yet you give that name to a plant, Alice. How messed up is that?"
"...Messed up? But it just means you're special to me, Yuki."
"..."
Alice blinked slowly.
Serene raised a trembling fist to her face and cleared her throat.
"Anyway. What kind of... plant is that?"
Still, she couldn't help but feel wronged by this fluffy white thing.
"A dandelion. It's common, how could you not know?"
"Even if I've seen it, how could I say it's a dandelion and be sure?"
Isn't that a testament to your low self-esteem? Alice raised her eyebrow.
"..."
Alice shrugged.
Uh, anyway.
"You know, these things are quite resilient. They're hard to kill, they even bloom in land affected by wildfires!"
Before Serene realized it, Alice was right next to her, her voice so close to her ear and her breath was tickling her ear and it was so warm—
Damned Alice for having light steps, damned Alice for being so quiet—!
"They're used in traditional medicine, too! A lot of the parts are edible," Gentle fingers caress the dandelion's head, so gentle that Serene finds herself scowling.
Why?
Serene forced her lips upward.
"But do you know what's so funny?"
"...What?"
"Technically, they're herbs. Sure, they're flowering plants, but botanists consider them to be herbs. It's like they're pretending, no? They could pretend to be flowers all they want but in the end..."
"Alice."
"They're stubborn. They kill other plants and hoard resources so some consider them to be weeds. I don't, though. They do everything to survive. I think the people who call it weeds are hypocrites. 'Cuz, don't humans do the same thing?"
"...Are you messing with me?"
"No." Her hand retreats. Slowly.
Again with the gentleness.
(How envious.)
"That kind of stubbornness... it's what I like about you, after all."
(It hurts.)
Alice smiles, so honest and radiating warmth. A warmth that she didn't expect to find, not in a person like her. Hearing those kinds of words from her; it was the same thing as saying she enjoyed seeing Serene struggle.
That's what it really was, huh?
"I'm... not that amazing."
It's terrifying. The way her eyes pinned her to one place like some butterfly with its wings hammered down to be examined and admired and experimented on and never to leave. The way her eyes twinkled differently— like she knew something that Serene didn't know. It's almost as if Alice knew her more than Serene knew herself.
And she hated how it was true.
"I've told you this before, haven't I? Why don't you try believing in yourself sometimes? That hesitation of yours will be your downfall one day."
As if I don't know that.
It was like Alice was let in on an inside joke about her that she didn't know.
So fucking frustrating.
If there was something Serene learned from the years she spent with Alice aside from the random and disturbing facts she spouted just to get a reaction, it would be that she was chatty. To the point that her messages lasted well beyond late nights and into early mornings, perhaps at two in the morning. Serene, like the loner that she was, would have no choice but read all of those messages like some parched man in the desert that found an oasis. Even if that meant falling asleep during class and getting made fun of by a concerningly chipper Alice that was running on mere three hours of sleep.
Correction; She was normally chatty.
There were some times when Serene's messages would go unread for long periods of time and Alice's eyes would avoid her and it would drive her insane because it hurts and why, why, why, why, what did she do wrong? Why? Why—?
Um.
Well, no matter what Alice did, she was still going to lose sleep, either from wondering why she was being ignored by her only best friend or chatting late at night.
Alice was very eccentric, and one of her favorite things to do was get a rise out of her.
It was entertaining. For some reason.
(Anything to stop that loneliness from festering again.)
Today wasn't that different.
"Hey—"
Alice leaned over her table, head on her palm. Her eyes lazily moved to Serene's face. She stared. The way she knew Serene didn't like it.
Half-lidded eyes, a face that screamed she was nothing but a weed, head tilted casually in a way that made her feel like a disturbance.
"..."
She smiled.
Something was wrong.
Calm down. It's just another cruel game.
"Serene."
"Ali— huh?"
Since when did she use her real name? When?
"Serene~"
She drawled.
Stop it.
(Why was she so bothered about it? Was it the change?
No.
Alice was just terrifying.)
"What?"
Alice stood up, the chair screeching against the table and no, no, no, that wasn't how this was supposed to go. This wasn't how the script was written, was it? Alice was supposed to respond oh-so-cheerfully, tease her about something she'd done, not shrug her off like nothing. No, no, that was a line that couldn't be crossed.
"Come to the rooftop. Okay?"
And with that, she leaves, not even waving goodbye or giving her one final glance or smiling properly or saying "See you tomorrow, Yuki" to pretend everything was normal and they were just a normal pair of best friends.
Normal.
There were lines that shouldn't be crossed.
Unless it was Alice because god-fucking-damnit she just loved being cruel.
She's shaking.
Nothing had changed.
Everyone else was as noisy as usual and yet she couldn't hear anything, not when her ears were ringing so incessantly and not when she could hear her heartbeats in her ears thumping loudly, becoming more erratic and—
It's like her mind shut down.
Her body was running on autopilot, rushing up the stairs with a pathetic desperation to her steps— if it were back then, she would've been disgusted at herself but Alice somehow stole her pride from her— although it was just a few flight of stairs, it felt like hours.
Why, why? What did she do? Did she offend her somehow? Could she apologize, "Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean it, whatever it is I did, please, please, please," With her head on the ground so she isn't left alone again?
She throws the door open.
Alice was waiting, leaning on the railings. A smile on her face. Like usual.
Like usual?
"Hey."
"Alice, I'm—"
"Do you trust me?"
It's a simple question.
"Of course, I..."
But she couldn't get the words out.
Yes, I trust you. Even more than myself.
Just say yes.
(Would that really be true?
...Does it matter if it's true?)
"I'm lonely, you know. The way you treat me, it's as if we aren't friends at all."
That's not true. Please.
"What can I do to make you trust me? I've wondered about that over and over. Then I got the idea yesterday." Her voice was slow, soft, gentle, warm, no, something was off.
She found herself walking slowly, cautiously, heavily, like glass almost giving in under pressure.
A part of her could guess what Alice was going to do next and goddamnit why, why, why, why, why?
Was the pieces she was giving not enough?
(Of course not, of course it isn't, of course it never will because Alice was someone who took and took and took and took.)
"Alice, please."
The following seconds came to her in slow motion; the sway of her hair, the curl of her lips, the glint of her eyes, everything, the way she hopped on the railings and twirled around to face her, how the rusting fence almost fucking gave out—
"What the fuck? Alice, Alice, please. You're scaring me. You're too close to the edge!"
"If I fall, will you try and catch me?"
Do you care enough to catch me?
Her head was pounding. Dizzy. All weird and funny and fuzzy like she wasn't getting enough air. And yet she was smiling. The motherfucker was smiling even though just a simple gust of wind could send her head falling, splattered all over the floor in redredredredredredred and leave her all alone again—
"Stop, stop, stop it, shut up and get a hold of yourself! You'll fall!"
"I want to prove it to you," I wouldn't have needed to do this if it weren't for you.
She opened her arms wide and vulnerable like awaiting an embrace from death, her body rocking back and pleasepleasepleaseplease—
"Getoffthefuckingrailing!"
She yells and now Alice is laughing.
She's smiling and saying something but Serene's head was pounding loudly, like a drum— a broken one— and it hurts— she can't breathe— yet it's the only thing keeping her grounded, believing that everything is real. And that being alone again was a very real possibility.
Serene lunges and Alice slips.
It happens unceremoniously. The wind blows and the feet that were stuck to the fence slips backwards and her body follows.
Her smile fades. It's unexpected, it's fear, it's vulnerability and for once it feels like it isn't Alice who was in control.
It would've been so easy to watch her fall.
But she doesn't.
(That was a mistake.)
Instead, she grabs at Alice's arms, practically clawing at it desperately, and pulls her up.
It's not enough.
She was barely hanging, her body hanging limp in Alice's grasp. It's like she was entrusting her entire life into Serene's hands. She reaches with her other hand, latching onto her elbow.
(Her body was cold. If she imagined hard enough, letting go would feel like letting a corpse fall.)
"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—!"
Again, she's grinning in exhilaration.
"Oh, you caught me."
"Please, please, please, I beg of you. Please don't let go."
Please don't go.
And Serene breaks. Or, at least, something inside her did, like a fragile glass wall finally breaking after being flooded with violent water that leaked out from the large cracks, drowning everything it touched. The railings dug into her ribs and she feels so sick.
Alice snorts, "I was never planning to die, dummy."
"That isn't the point! Hold on to me, you idiot!"
"Ah, what if I don't?"
(She sees a dead body. Red, red, red blood pouring out everywhere and staining Serene's hands so it never leaves. No matter how much she washes, the damage is done and it's all her fault.)
"Will we die together?"
Something wet trickles down her cheeks.
"Shut the fuck up and getbacktomyside!"
(Although just for a moment, Alice wore an expression similar to fear and fascination, much like a researcher that found something new.
The sheer, unadulterated fear on her face was something visceral, something new, something she yearned, something oh-so-relieving!)
"...Fine."
Using her free hand, she latched onto the railings and helped Serene pull her up rather than staying still like a stupid ragdoll.
As soon as Alice's feet hit the ground, she feels someone's whole weight press down on her and she falls, pinned down by Serene who had eyes she had never seen before and for the first time she's scared.
"Um...?"
Then her head feels as if it's being squeezed, seconds away from popping like a grape and bursting into pieces of skin and bones and mush and confetti.
"Why? Why did you do that? Why? What do you mean we're not friends? Is this not enough for you? Do you want to take even more from me?"
She heaves and heaves and heaves but it's never enough, her lungs can't get enough oxygen—
"This isn't how to treat a friend, you know? Let go—"
"If this was what you wanted, I'd rather kill you myself with my own hands."
Because then it would feel like she had control for once.