Kyle Tam 1806 words

kyletamwrites@gmail.com

Social Links at Sixteen

My first crush was no-nonsense, stern, and had his hair slicked back in a way that made him look

forty instead of seventeen. When we first met he had the kind of smug grin that makes a face

immensely punchable, and I’d already made up my mind about whether I liked him or not. He’d

rail against my attitude, about improper behaviour in the halls or some form of injustice, and I

would smile and nod and get on with things. Over time, ever so slowly, he began to mature and I

warmed up to him. Little by little affection blossomed between us, affection enough that I was

well and truly falling. He was honest to a fault, tenacious, and beneath the surface a beautiful

soul. He was also a character in a video game.

When I first booted up Persona 3 Portable, I had it in my mind that I wanted a fun school

experience. I was in the middle of my own high school life, just shy of sixteen, but main

protagonist I was not. I occupied a corner of the computer lab with a few close-knit friends,

whiling away break time and lunchtime on Tumblr.com reblogging anime screencaps and

writing up paragraphs of roleplay in between half-baked schoolwork. I wasn’t particularly

interested in much outside of what was comfortable, and the world didn’t concern itself with me

either. So to find an opportunity to change myself, even if it was only for this virtual world, was

irresistible. After all, one of the game’s biggest selling points is escapism. Be the person you

want to be.

One of the earliest important moments in Persona 3 is waking up in the Velvet Room, a

mysterious chamber occupied by the beak-nosed Igor and his assistant Theodore. Igor is in many

ways your mentor, an enigmatic figure who teaches you about the concept of personas. In the

world of Persona, as in the world of Jungian psychology, personas are the many faces that you
wear, given form in order to fight the Shadows of the world. “In order to craft new personas,” he

told me, “you must form bonds with those around you”. I had to wear the masks required of

every new encounter to form Social Links, in order to gain the tools to fight in what felt like the

endless labyrinth of Tartarus. Sometimes I needed to be an airhead, sometimes a genius,

sometimes bubbly, sometimes bold. At all times, however, I couldn’t retreat into the comfortable

and spend my time isolated. I was required to go out into the world and make friends.

Meeting my future love was mandatory on the part of the game. Somehow I found myself

drafted into the student council quite against my will, required to fill in an empty space by one of

my upperclassman. I was joined by one Chihiro Fushimi, the wallflower Secretary of the student

council, and Hidetoshi Odagiri, the head of the Disciplinary Committee. Upon seeing his

decidedly plain looking face, framed as it was by prematurely greying hair, I told myself I was

going to have nothing to do with him. There were more fun and interesting people to talk to.

However, gameplay mechanics forced my hand. He was the representative of the Emperor

Arcana, an easy character to get in contact with, and gatekeeper of potent early-game Personas

that would help me blitz through the early dungeons. If I wanted to protect the world, I was

going to have to make friends with the biggest prick in the school.

Raising Hidetoshi’s trust in me was not a difficult task, especially since I discovered that he was

quite easy to read. For him, one of the most fundamentally important things a person could do

was adhere to the rules and behave oneself properly. The game only gives you three dialogue

options to choose from, so being a law-abiding, no-nonsense disciplinarian was as simple as

choosing the “Everyone should follow the rules” option. I like to imagine that my character said
her dialogue sarcastically, that she rolled her eyes every time she extolled the virtues of school

regulations and order, because that was how I approached the early stages of the Social Link. I

had better things to do than attend Student Council - I had to go save the world!

As our working relationship continued, the Social Link began to center around a cigarette butt

found in the boy’s bathroom. To me it felt like no big deal besides being inappropriate in a

school setting, but obviously for the law-abiding Hidetoshi this was a no go. Over the course of

the Social Link he becomes tense, almost desperate to find the culprit, and I couldn’t help but

relent and try to help him. I was warming up to him a little, a corner of reprieve amidst the

agonisingly mind numbing gameplay that was dungeon exploration. It cost me nothing to help

him out, and there was something earnest about the way he worked. At the time I was a student

prefect in reality, but none of us really cared for the position. Being a prefect or being on student

council was just about having something to put on your college applications, and more often than

not came down to having your friends be prefects or getting along with teachers. We didn’t do

anything, not really. Just acted like decorative guards.

The scenario escalated, as they must in the course of a video game, and you are eventually

blamed. This was originally written with a male protagonist in mind, but there is enough of a

change that to Hidetoshi the idea is absurd. What would you even be doing in the girl’s

bathroom? My character and I overheard this, and then the other shoe drops and the teacher asks

if Hidetoshi likes you. Things were falling into place, even with the limited dialogue onscreen, as

I filled in gaps with my imagination with ideas that had no right to exist. He was coded software,

dialogue prompts and ¾ angled portraits, but I could still feel the pain. The longing of the heart
that beats for someone who doesn’t know, who might not even care. But I did know, and I did

care.

The climax comes when Hidetoshi brings you to the rooftop, ostensibly to tell you, to tell me,

that what happened has been resolved. That’s what I was preparing for, for a generic “Thank you

for being my friend”, and maybe to share his past. What I wasn’t expecting was him to pour his

heart out. To say that he liked me, had grown to like me, but that he wasn’t ready. That as he was

now, flawed and quick to judge, he wasn’t a man I deserved. But one day he would be. He would

go out into the world to learn and grow, and when he was ready he would find me and come

back to me, and confess again.

As I stared numbly at the screen, at the confession that wasn’t a confession, I realised how sad

the whole affair was. Here was a seventeen year old in love with a seventeen year old whose path

was prewritten in trios of sakura pink bullet points. Here was a sixteen year old in love with a

seventeen year old who was nothing but an expression sheet and scripted words. And then I

began to cry. This whole scenario seemed profoundly unfair, because we were still teenagers. It

was okay for us to be imperfect together, to learn from each other, and to improve as a team. He

didn’t need to go, and I didn’t want him to go. But we instead stayed as friends, and the link ends

with us going to the movies. As friends.

I wish I could tell you that the story ends happily, that my character and Hidetoshi do end up

together in the epilogue. But Persona 3 is not that kind of game, and I’m not that fortunate. Every

week, at least once a week, I’d go to the Student Council room to see him, to see if there was
some new bit of dialogue or story, something more in the story of us. All I would get were his

greetings and You and Hidetoshi worked hard together on the student council. I had reached the

limitations of his programming, the game assuming I didn’t need to care anymore. That I had

other things to do, other friends to make, other social links to care about. At the end of the game,

I greeted him in the hallways. He thanked me, profoundly, and told me to wait for him. But I

couldn’t wait. I didn’t have time. Unbeknownst to him and known to me, the player, the curtains

were closing on my story and my character’s story. There was no future, no second confession,

no opportunity to be together. He wasn’t even allowed by the narrative to properly say goodbye,

only see you soon.

I think a lot about what I felt, and why I felt it. Why the situation seemed so remarkably unfair

that first time around. It was a selfish thing of me to ask for, I know that now. I felt entitled to

affections which I thought should have been mine, while also desperately wanting to be with

someone like Hidetoshi. Someone who would grow and change to be best suited to me. With

hindsight, text box and character portrait that he was, he was still the more mature of us two.

There are too many people who jump into relationships headfirst, something I’ve been guilty of

and am trying to grow out of. At the same time, I’m just beginning to realise the gravity of what

he said during his confession. I was a factor, yes, but it wasn’t just about me. It was about him.

He wasn’t worthy in himself because he was seventeen, judgmental, and wanted to be better. It’s

taken nine years and a lot of thought to reach that place, to recognise that I have issues

entrenched within me that need to be addressed before I can be with anyone, and all it took him

was pre-programmed self reflection.

Even so, even though I know that it’s beyond impossible, perhaps one day things will change.

I’ll meet someone, at a time when I am finding my best self and feel more centred in who I am,

who is still imperfect. Still flawed. Someone working through themselves as well. Someone who,

despite all of this, feels worthy not only of my affections but also of themselves. Someone with

slicked back grey hair and a punchable smirk, one who loves movies and works well together

with me. When that time comes, I hope I’m ready, and that I’ve become someone worthwhile.

Bio: Kyle is a dreamer, writer, and full-time complainer from the Philippines. Her fiction has

been published in Idle Ink, Mineral Lit, and Analogies & Allegories among others. She also

creates tabletop games, including the IGDN Honorable Mention MORIAH. You can find her on

X and Blusky at @PercyPropa, or find her work at whatkylewrites.carrd.co.