The sky over my head is littered with cracks.
The world will break soon.
Her world will break soon.
But things must first break for it to become fixed.
The place where it all began is a special place for the two of us. It's where my hell began. It's where she first saved me. It's where I'll do whatever I can to save her.
The school bleachers.
As I ascend the stairs heading to this sacred place, I realize that I'm no longer walking on anything. The stairs have disappeared, and all I can see is a peak leading to where she is.
There's nothing around me now.
I've reached the peak, and, standing on top of nothing—no—standing on top of the sky itself, as if flying, lies The Witch of Perfection, Venterra.
She seems so, so far away from me.
"Tura-tura. Kiyo Kiyo! I've been waiting forever for you. I was starting to think that you'd never arrive. I was so scared. I was considering falling from this height and landing right on my head. Glad I won't need to resort to that, right?"
I don't respond to her banter. I must be firm. There is no time to play along with her antics.
"Olympia—"
"Venterra. My name is Venterra," she corrects me. I guess she's going to stick with this the whole time. I wonder who she's trying to fool.
"Venterra. Tell me, what is it that you want?"
"What do I want? Well, that's simple, Kiyo. First, let me tell you this. Kiyo, which do you think is wider? The brain or the sky."
Oh. This is something she's brought up in the past.
The Brain—is wider than the Sky—
For—put them side by side—
The one, the other will include—
With ease—and you—beside—
If I recall correctly, what this poem meant to her is that the brain is not infinite, but it is incredibly wide; therefore, there is much that she can learn about this world.
"Ding-ding-ding. You hit the nail on the head! That's what it once meant to the girl named Olympia Ventura. But, Kiyomi, just because there are plenty of things that humans can learn, how much do you think a person learns in their lifetime? How many people do you think use their brains to the fullest capacity? How many people do you think live life to the fullest?"
As Olympia continues, the space between and around us seems to shrink, and we grow ever so closer.
"If you were to look out at the sky," Olympia goes on, "you'd notice that no matter how hard you try, you can't see further than you already do. The sky has an edge. It only seems as if it grows if you lean your head forward. But what a human can see, what a human can perceive, is limited. We can only hold on to so much information. It is said that the human brain can hold up to 2.5 million gigabytes or, in other words, 2.5 petabytes. This may seem like a lot, but in reality, it isn't. And the funny thing is, humans don't utilize their brains to their fullest potential.
"Humans tend to forget things to make space for new information. Important things. Meaningless things. Things are all the same. Thrown away for something else.
"How much have you forgotten, Kiyomi? How much have you thrown away? How much of your memory is true and not some sort of distortion?"
"Do you remember what you ate three days after your seventh birthday?
"Do you remember the taste of spit from your first kiss?
"Do you remember the first time someone told you they loved you?
"Do you remember? Do you remember? Do you really remember?
I can't.
I can't find a way to counter her argument. Is she even arguing with me, or is she trying to show me the truth, the reality of things?
Space shrinks, and once again, we grow closer and closer.
"Kiyomi, how much time will pass before you throw away your memories of me? How long will it take for you to forget me?" Her voice cracks along with the sky. She's not crying, but it won't take a strong push to break her. "Kiyomi, do you value me? Do you want me? Do you love me? Or am I just going to end up as something that you don't even consciously forget? Something that you automatically toss aside because I'm no longer needed.
"I don't want to be thrown away. I don't want to throw away any of my fond memories. Kumiko, Neku, my father, and you. I don't want to lose any of it. I don't want to fill my brain with bullshit information that I couldn't give less of a crap about.
"I hate it.
"I hate it.
"I hate it!
"I…don't want to disappear…"
And finally,
She breaks.
Tears stream down her face.
But not for long.
She wipes—no—licks the tears of her face like the lachryphagic butterfly she is. Then, she goes on.
"The brain is wider than the sky. No. The sky is as wide as the brain. The two have a limit. The two have an edge. The two have an end.
"So,
"Let's destroy it all.
"All that is shall one day end. So let's skip to that end and disregard everything in between. We won't need to suffer. We won't need to feel pain. Our brains won't need to carry these burdens just to someday throw them away. We can do without them.
"So, Kiyomi," Olympia softly says as she stretches out her arms as the space between us is no more, "let's destroy the sky."
She smiles.
Not a smile because she's sad.
Not a smile because she's happy.
But a smile because she's so, so exhausted.
Her true colors shine.
I know what she wants.
I know what she no longer wants.
I want to stretch my arm out, too, and hold her hands in mine.
I want to destroy the sky and rid ourselves of needless things that will only be forgotten, too.
I want the sky to be no more.
But.
Before that.
"Tell me, Olympia. Why do you think you made your mother disappear?"
She must break once more.