"Olympia. That's the name of the girl whom you will one day forget, right? But did you know that wasn't what she was going to be named upon birth? Her father planned to name her Olimpia, spelled with an "i" rather than a "y". Do you know why that is?"
Olympia ignores my question, but maybe this is her way of answering. Maybe this is her way of acknowledging the truth without having to face it.
The space between Olympia and me grows to when I first made it to the top of the sky. As if we'd never grown closer to begin with.
"When she was born, her father wasn't there to attend the ceremony that, too, will be forgotten. The day of her birth, not even her father made it. But, of course, her mother was there. And defying the wish of the father, named her child Olympia. Why? Why, isn't it obvious? This daughter had to be perfect.
"Perfect.
"Perfect.
"Perfect.
"She had to be perfect.
"And thus, she was. She was born early, but that was only so she could prepare for her role of perfection sooner rather than later."
She's so far away.
I can't read her face.
Nothing is directly covering the view, but it's as if the air around her is distorting her image.
"She spent most of her time studying. Studying what? As if anyone remembers. But that's what took up the majority of her life. She was able to make friends. But maybe it's better to say that she learned how to be friendly with others. None of those people cares about her. They only stuck around her because they knew that she was the most popular person in town, so maybe they could leech off some of her fame. They knew she was the smartest person in their age range, so they thought that she'd help them out with their studies. People were only around her, nice to her, because they wanted to use her.
"At least she was useful, right?"
What does this have to do with her mother?
"Don't worry, I'll get there soon.
"Then comes Kumiko. Someone who knew of Olympia, and yet wanted nothing to do with her. To Olympia, Kumiko was nothing but a challenge to overcome. 'I can make everyone like me, so why can't I make her feel the same? Everyone has to like me. They have to. I have to be—'"
She chokes on her words. Is it because this isn't how she truly feels, or is it because this is how she truly feels?
But maybe this isn't a matter of how she felt. No. That may have been how she felt then, but now is different. It has to be.
"Ahem, sorry. You've met Neku already, right? So I'll skip over the introductions. Neku was like you. Someone weak-hearted, who was alone, but thought he wasn't lonely. He wasn't a challenge to Olympia, but a sort of game. He was a pushover, always following Olympia's command without hesitation. Whatever she told him to do, he'd do.
"Olympia simply wanted to see how far she could push a human being. So, she pushed him. She pushed, pushed, pushed, until he was no longer standing over the edge. He plummeted down. Wanna know what she did upon realizing she went too far? She waited. She waited, waited, waited, until someone else would come around so that she could see how far she could push.
"Then you came along.
"Another fool who was weak-hearted.
"Do you remember your first meeting with her, Kiyomi Otonashi? At the bleachers. When she treated you with kindness while you were at your lowest. Did you know that she approached you for the sole reason of seeing if she could make you commit suicide that day? She wanted to see if her words could make you fall headfirst from the bleachers. The only reason she didn't is that she felt pity towards you. There was no fun in doing something like that if it seemed like you would take your life any minute.
"So,
"She waited.
"She waited, waited, waited. And here we are."
Lies. These are nothing but lies. You're lying to me! This isn't true. Olympia didn't orchestrate this whole ordeal. She didn't. She wouldn't. I know she wouldn't. I know her. I know Olympia Ventura. She's not this type of person.
"But she is. This is the type of piece of shit the girl named Olympia Ventura is. She's just perfect at hiding the truth.
"She was perfect. Too perfect. Everything she did, she excelled at. Whether it be from piano, track, academics, cooking, socializing, learning, teaching, ballet, singing, music, life, or anything under the sun, you name it, she excelled at it.
"This drove her mother insane. Her mother, for lack of better words, was a loser. She didn't excel at a single thing. She sucked at everything she did.
"She didn't know how to be a wife. She didn't know how to take care of a home. She didn't know how to be what she thought a woman should be. How to please others. How to meet expectations. She failed even at that. She didn't know how to handle stress. She didn't know how to take care of herself. She didn't know how to be a mother.
"She was Olympia's polar opposite: a bona fide failure.
"So, she was jealous of her. She was jealous of the daughter who, in some inexplicable way, was raised to be perfect. Maybe that was the only thing she was good at. Maybe it was because she raised her daughter the exact opposite way she was raised. Who knows.
"But jealous she was. She couldn't bear the reality that she was inferior to her offspring.
"So.
"She took her own life.
"She found a tall building to jump off of. But that didn't kill her. She was barely breathing upon landing and only died shortly after. Tch, she couldn't even kill herself correctly. Luckily, or unluckily, I was nearby, so,
"I finished what she started."
How?
How do I respond to this?
Are there any words that I can give that will change anything?
"You need not words, Kiyomi. All you need to do is," the gap between us closes once more, and, standing face to face, Olympia holds out her hand to me.
"Hold my hand," she says—smiling wide, not from joy, but from the sharp edge of desperation dressed in ecstasy.