This story is written before the full game came out, so future readers, please note that there might be extremely different plot points from the game.


"Father...why can't I cry?"

.

.

.

::::::::::::
.: M A S K :.
::::::::::::
.

.

.

'White...'

Her eyelids slowly fluttered open. She saw familiar walls with nothing but white, this bed with nothing but white, and those adults' clothes with nothing but white...

She heard her father's cries and her mother's comforts and the doctors' apologies. The same scenes replayed over and over in her life, so much that she's memorized their lines a long time ago.

"I'm sorry, Aishi-san."

"We couldn't detect the problem."

"I'm afraid your daughter...she will never become a normal person."

She stared at her parents, or mostly just her father, tugging at the men's large, white coats, pleading them to find another way to "fix" her. The doctors could only sigh and shake their heads. Her mother held onto her tiny hand tightly, and she didn't know if she was trying to comfort herself or her daughter.

She didn't understand why. In fact, she never knew why she had to go to these places known as "hospitals" in the first place. Her body functioned just as well as any other healthy child, but she still felt..."broken."

Her parents tried to explain what was wrong with her. They made sure to fill in every single detail. They said their daughter wasn't normal. She only stared blankly at them, not understanding anything.

Pulling up her sleeves slightly, she scratched her arm that has been penetrated so many times by countless needles for examinations that she became immune to the pain. She watched as her father once again fall into despair and finally tear away from the doctors and walk towards the direction of the exit, then she felt her mother tug her arm forward, dragging her along.

She didn't understand.

Ayano Aishi didn't understand anything.

.

.

.

"Weirdo!"

"Freak!"

"Creeper!"

Ayano felt herself being pushed into a puddle of water on the ground again. Cold mud water splashed all over her pale cheeks and new dress. The boys that shoved her pulled her by her hair and dragged her out of the puddle, only to throw her on the ground again.

They grabbed her head and screamed loudly in her ear, then they dumped everything out of her backpack and ripped them, throwing the pieces and the backpack into the water.

A white kitten approached her and sniffed her cheek and purred. Its irises resembled the sky, something so high up that Ayano knew she would never reach.

"Kiki, don't touch her!" yelled a voice from afar. A girl ran towards them and quickly picked up the kitten. She glanced at Ayano, who's lying flat and lifeless on the wet ground, with fear, then she quickly dashed away.

Ayano didn't shed a tear.

During class, she could hear the girls talk about her behind her back, saying that she was strange or creepy, saying that she was like a robot. Sometimes, she could feel paper balls being thrown at her. No one wanted to stand up for her.

Teachers try their best to ignore her in classrooms. They don't call on her to answer questions or ask any favors from her. The only times they will ever mention her was during roll calls. They never even complimented her or punished her.

No one wanted to talk to an empty, hollow doll.

It was rather...inconvenient.

Those smiles...those strange expressions plastered on their faces. They all laughed. Her mother told her before, she loves seeing her father smile. It was a sign of happiness and love.

...where did her happiness go?

Later on, she began to see different expressions on people's faces. She saw a girl cry because the teacher scolded her, reminding of the times in the hospital, when the doctors told her father that she would never be normal. She saw a boy become angry and fight with another boy, reminding her of the times when her father scolds her mother for dumping nonsense into her mind. She learned that humans make different faces in different situations.

However, she could never find the situation for her to have those faces.

She didn't understand.

.

.

.

"Yan-chan?" her mother called when she peeked into her room while holding a bowl of pears cut into slices.

Ayano was sitting at her desk reading a book of poetry collections by Yamabe no Akahito while holding her favorite stuffed animal. Her mother smiled, seeing her daughter able to take interest in such advanced literature.

"Yan-chan," she called again as she walked towards her and placed the bowl on her desk next to her book, "Don't sleep too late, okay?"

Ayano slowly closed the book and turned to look at her mother, who looked back in slight surprise.

"What's the matter, Yan-chan?"

"Mother..." she began, but couldn't figure out how to put her thoughts in words.

Her mother smiled, immediately understanding what she wanted to ask. She crouched down and rubbed her head gently like a cat.

"It's okay, Yan-chan. Let me tell you, when I was your age, I was like you. I didn't smile, cry, or felt angry, and I didn't know why. That was until I met your father later...and goodness, I loved him so much the moment I saw him."

Ayano blinked, not comprehending.

She held both of Ayano's tiny hands in her larger ones, "One day, you will find someone just like Mother. You will find someone that is special to you, that will make you feel...complete. When that day comes, you will began to know what happiness is, what sadness is, what living is."

That night, Ayano heard her father fighting with her mother...or to be exact, her father yelling at her mother one-sidedly. She heard her father say that he wanted a normal child that could laugh, cry, and would ask to be spoiled like a princess. Her mother could only do her best to calm him down. Ayano fell asleep before listening to the end of the fight.

She didn't understand.

.

.

.

On her birthday, Ayano received a lot of gifts from her father. He bought her stuffed animals, he bought her dolls, he bought her new dresses, he bought her candies...he bought her everything a little girl could ask for.

He did everything he could to amuse her and make her happy. All he asked for was one smile. Nothing worked.

She would nod her head and say thank you, but it was all for the politeness she was taught. She watched her father sigh deeply and scratch his head in frustration, then he retired to his room.

Her mother only smiled at her and told her there is nothing to worry about. Everything will be alright once she meets her special one. She didn't feel a bit hopeful, though.

The next day, her father's eye bags became more visible than before.

She didn't understand.

.

.

.

When they stepped into their house, Ayano tugged on her father's sleeve. He turned around in surprise and looked at her.

"Father," she said.

He tried his best to cover up his exhaustion and smiled at her, "Yes?"

"..." Ayano blinked her hollow, grey eyes, "Father...why can't I cry?"

His eyes widened. They stood in a long moment of silence before he finally broke down into tears. He covered his mouth to muffle his sobs and turned his head away so that she can't see him. After a while, he finally calmed down and turned back to her. Ayano could see his eyes redder than before and tear stains remain.

"W...why did Yan-chan suddenly ask this?" he asked back with a shaky voice.

"Other kids asked me that all the time. They say that I am creepy because I don't smile or cry."

His heart twitched painfully. He knew the treatment his daughter gets in school since the day she came back with band-aids on her knees and arms. That time, he really was extremely furious, so much that his aura frightened even the principal when he ran to the school for an explanation. He and Ryoba have switched schools for Ayano many times, yet all of them end up like this.

What a trash of a father he is, he thought and berated himself inside.

He kept his smile as cheerful as possible and ran his fingers through Ayano's dark, silky hair, "Don't listen to them, dear. Crying...is only for when you are sad. Daddy does not want Yan-chan to be sad, you know? So..."

Please smile for me instead, he did not say those words out loud.

"Sad..." Ayano thought for a moment, then reached a hand out and wiped a tear that was rolling down her father's face off with her finger.

His body trembled for a second.

"Then...why does Father cry?" she asked.

More tears streamed down, yet he forced a chuckle, "Maybe...maybe Daddy just doesn't want Yan-chan to cry."

She lowered her head, then back up to look at her father straight in his eyes.

"Then...I don't want Father to cry, either."

He widened his eyes in shock, then he quickly pulled her into his arms tightly, finally letting his barriers break down. Ayano could feel his chest rise up and down rapidly, and his breath shaking as he sobs. She let her arms stay by her sides instead of hugging back.

She felt her father's hand pressing against the back of her head and gently pushing her head to his shoulder. There was a very light smell of cigarettes from his body. She remembered that he's never smoked before unless he is very stressed.

He cried and cried, but he never bawled. His cries were quiet and muffled, as if he didn't want her to hear them.

Despite this, she couldn't feel any sadness like him. She didn't feel like the words she said were from her heart. She didn't feel like she had a heart. However, she did feel...pity.

She pitied this sad man's fruitless efforts. She pitied him for wasting time on her rather than himself. She pitied him for not having a normal family. There wasn't anything she could do to raise the weight he carries on his shoulders.

An easy smile would solve all of his problems, yet she never felt the desire to curve the ends of her mouth upwards.

She didn't understand.

.

.

.

One day, a very regular day, a day just like any other day, Ayano began to smile.

A boy smirked slyly as he crept up behind her, then yelled out her name. When she turned around, he pushed her, knocking her onto the floor. He laughed along with his friends at how miserable she looked.

The laughter stopped almost immediately when they heard another voice - girl's voice. They looked down and saw Ayano picking her head up...and she smiled. No, not just smiling; she laughed.

She laughed as if she's heard a good joke, completely catching the boys off guard. Ayano stood up and patted the dust off her dress, then she gave them the brightest smile they've seen.

"That was awesome," she exclaimed, "You guys are funny!"

This is all it takes, right?

They shared glances with one another, then they smiled and decided to push her again, this time much more gentle. Eventually, they began pushing and knocking each other, filling the space with laughters until a teacher scolded them and made them stand outside their classroom as punishment.

This is all I need to do to be accepted.

Soon enough, Ayano was loved by everyone. She laughed at the jokes the class clowns cracked. She comforted the loners and brought them into a warm group. She tutored those in need on homework. She was able to become the perfect friend and was invited to every party that was announced.

At home, she smiled at her parents and gave them big hugs and kisses on their cheeks. She asked them to play with her dolls and stuffed animals, and she acted mischievous and pulled innocent pranks on her father. In response, her father cried again, but this time with a smile.

The family became normal. They went on vacations and took pictures together. They watched movies on the television and played board games. The parents helped Ayano on her homework while Ayano helped them on chores.

It was perfect.

It was everything she dreamed of.

It was...all fake and empty.

None of this was real. None of this was what she wanted. Nothing mattered to her.

Perhaps even her father knew deep down that she was only pretending for his sake, so he played along and forced himself to live in this reality that his daughter tried to create for him.

This exhausting act was played for years. She was never truly blended in this world of false colors. She knew no one cared about her until she paints her entire body over to look like everyone else. Slowly, Ayano became nauseous and resentful of herself.

She only wanted to feel something. Anything. Even the extremes that could put physical imprints on her body.

Joy, sorrow, anything. Anything would be fine.

She didn't understand. She could never understand.

.

.

.

On her way back with hands full of grocery bags, she saw an adorable white kitten walking towards her. She shifted into a crouching position and let the kitten lick her hand. Then she picked up a twig right by her feet and started playing with it.

The kitten was very docile but also fearless. It must've sneaked out of its nest while its mother was away.

Ayano picked it up gently with both hands and raised it up to her eye level. Its blue eyes stared back at her grey ones. She envied to light reflected in the two sapphire ores.

"How nice must it be to simply act like yourself instead of pretending to be others..." Ayano sighed.

The cat licked its paw without giving any response, not that she expected it to.

The afternoon sun shined upon both of them, stretching their shadows longer. Ayano never really enjoyed the intense brightness it gives, but it is better than having to squint to see in the dark night.

The kitten began to grow bored and squirmed in her grip, wanting to be put down. Ayano noticed but only continued to look at it. Her thumb circled on its stomach and giving it soft rubs.

"Say...cats have nine lives, right?" she suddenly asked, but it was more of a statement than a question.

"If so, then...just this once...just this once, let me borrow one from you."

Slowly, the kitten felt itself being raised up higher, then it was right above Ayano's head.

"I want to feel something..."

...but nothing worked.

No guilt, shame, regret.

She stared blankly at the result, then she tried nudging it and only found her pale hands covered in crimson. It ultimately wasn't able to move her heart.

Seems like that was the ninth life.

But it's okay. That short, eventful life was better than her long, blank life.

Life is like a heart rate monitor. Once it becomes completely flat, it is basically dead.

"The living shouldn't envy the dead."

Ayano, however, really did...so much that she felt like she could blend with the soft grass beneath her feet.

She didn't understand.

.

.

.

Soon, high school embraced her.

Her parents brought her to the top, most luxurious school of all of Buraza Town. Only about a hundred students can have the honor to wear their uniform proudly and walk into the building. Her outstanding grades has given her the scholarship to school.

Not so surprising. What else can a girl with no real hobby do in her free time besides studying?

Ayano forced herself out of bed and stepped onto the campus grounds. Everyone was prideful and wore that bright, cheery smile that Ayano would never be able to have. Her hope was breaking apart bit by bit. It won't be long before it finally shatters to pieces.

"One day, you will meet someone special."

That was what her mother said.

"One day, someone will make you feel complete."

These words were the only residents that occupied Ayano's mind. They replayed in her mother's exact voice all the time, again, again, and again. Perhaps this was to remind her why she's still alive. Perhaps it was just an excuse to make herself believe that she wants to keep living. She has waited years and years. Day after day, she felt like it was another eternity.

She grew sick and tired of this. She was tired of living without feeling like she's living.

'Somebody...please...save me...fix me...complete me...'

Nobody bothered to help.

No one took a second to look at her and reach out for her.

Those smiles...those sickening, sweet smiles.

None of them were real. They were just like her own. Fake. Plastic. Their only purpose was to be treated well.

Ayano stared at her own reflection in the mirror of the bathroom on the second floor. No one else was in there. Nothing was there for her. She could see dark circles around her eyes, as if they absorbed all of her soul. She lifted a hand and touched her cheek. Her skin was fair, and she hated it.

Her grasp on her face tightened, then she dug her nails into her skin and dragged downwards, creating deep, painful scratch marks. Redness dripped from her wound and tainted the sink and her fingertips. She jerked the rubber bands out of her hair, allowing her ponytail to scatter and fall on her back like ebony waterfall.

"This...disgusting face!" she yelled, "Abominable, nefarious, hideous!"

She pulled her hand back, then she threw her fist at the fragile mirror, shattering it into pieces, just like her hopes. Blood streamed down her hand and seeped through between her fingers.

Nothing happened. No ripples of anger could be found in her heart. She wanted to feel rage, but all she felt was more pity. She pitied herself for wearing this fake skin just to be able to survive.

Ayano gently touched her wounded cheek again and looked at her uneven reflection in the fractured remaining of the mirror that still hangs on the wall. She was covered in crimson, the first color to ever touch her deep down.

"This face...this façade..." she muttered to herself, "I don't want to pretend anymore. I want to live. I want to..."

Her hand dropped back to her side. The lights slightly flickered, then the bulbs gave up and let darkness overpower.

The only room that lost its brightness in the entire building is the one that she stood in.

"...I want to burn this mask."


A/N: Hello and welcome to the rewrite of my first chaptered story, "Mask." The original one was going to involve supernatural things, hence the very beginning of the first chapter, but as I continued, I just didn't know how to incorporate it without making it feel like a completely random Gintama-like (great anime, BTW) plot. This story will mainly follow Ayano developing new emotions and perhaps changing views about the world, but side characters will get their own spotlight, and yes, shoujo style romance will be a main part to satisfy my girly side.

WARNING: HEAVY SUBJECTS WILL BE INVOLVED, VIEWER DISCRETION ADVISED.