The rain beats down on the roof of your apartment. You feel as though you should smile, because you always did love the rain, but at this moment all you can think of is the leak in your roof. An insignificant problem in the grand scheme of things, but you just happen to be in that kind of mood.
As it continues to rain, the pitter-patter you once found soothing is just making your migraine worse. It must be one of your better days though, because you are alone, and since you are alone, there is no need to smile. That is what you tell yourself, but your lips still quirk up at the corners. You have not stopped smiling for years.
The people who could see through your mask of perfection are now long gone.
Your mask was perfected when you were but a child, growing up much too fast, just because you were a tensai.
A tensai, ne?
What would they say if they saw their tensai now?