Title: Mirrors
Rating: T
Summary: People usually see just one image. He sees two.
Fandom: Disgaea
Characters: Mao, Mao's True Heart, Dark Mao
Pairings: None
Genre: Angst, drama
Disclaimer: Disgaea is not mine. I am merely borrowing the characters without permission to make them do my bidding and satisfy the inner fangirl in me.

The usual silence.

Then a cackle. "Feeling lost again, are we?"

"You have been coming here often. Is there something you wish to know, Mao?"

The young demon stared at the two images of himself. It no longer surprised him, considering that he had been frequently doing this lately.

Staring at mirrors.

One of the images which stared back at the young demon looked exactly like him, albeit with a gentle expression and a warm smile. The other noticeably had a much more wicked gaze, eyes cold and piercing, mouth perpetually in a terrifying and mocking sneer. Both of these were supposedly the two sides of him, but he had trouble believing that. Never did the young demon remember having such a kind smile grace his lips. Neither was he able to recall having an expression only a complete monster would possess.

To their questions, he didn't have an answer. Why was he here? For the past times he did this, he asked himself the same question, over and over again. However, like before, he did not know the answer. There was a heavy feeling in his heart that he may never know exactly why he would spend the most of his time staring at the two reflections, the embodiments of his inner self.

"Aww, did someone die again? Was it our fault again?" Again? Yes. Yes, again.

Mao felt that familiar pain in his chest once more. He tried to ignore it, suppressing the urge to kneel down and let the tears flow. When was he this sensitive? When did it begin to hurt so much? He didn't know, he didn't want to find out. But then, if he hated this, if he hated feeling this, then what was the reason? What was the reason for listening to someone continuously try to make him blame himself, make him realize that everything was his mistake?

"We have to let go, Mao." Such a gentle voice.

He wondered if his friends ever wanted to hear him speak to them with a tone similar to the way this kind side of him always speaks with. But then, why would they? Did they ever truly care for his well-being, minded if he was sane anymore or not? He didn't know, and he didn't know if he ever wanted to find out. For most of his life, he has been alone. The grin, the laugh, they were merely masks, masks he admittedly, frustratingly never wanted to wear ever again if they were for the purpose of disguising the pain he felt every single day of his life. But he felt that he must do it. Being a demon, it was expected of him. ...Did a sincere smile, an honest laugh ever pass his lips?

"Who was it this time?"

No one died, he wanted to point out, but he couldn't find his voice. Everything, everything hurts. His throat, his head, his heart. He could barely even feel the pain of his wounds from the last battle he was engaged in. No one died. ...But someone was hurt, and that someone's not just anyone. Not just... What was she to him exactly? He didn't know and he was afraid to know.

"We should not blame ourselves."

For there will be another scar. He knew that, and yet if he didn't, then who should he blame? Should he blame her? But... wasn't he the one at fault for allowing her to use such dangerous magic? Wasn't he the one who truly knew how much risk she is taking just to save all of them? Wasn't he supposed to be the one to actually do something to avoid the situation altogether? These questions, for any of them, he had no answer. He was too hurt, too confused, too torn.

"So it was her fault. Their fault?"

How can he talk with such a cheerful tone? And to think that this was a side of him, it disgusts the young demon. He was a demon, not a monster. Or was there no difference between the two? Perhaps he was a special case? A special kind of demon, a special kind of monster. Did it fit? Perhaps it did. It hurts, it hurts to think. But he did know, he knew more than anyone else that it wasn't her or any of them who should be blamed.

"We have to let go, Mao. Do what we must."

But what must he do? ...He didn't want to think this through. He wanted everything, every single thing to go away. Just for once, just this once.

"Let's run away again, man. That's what we always do, right?"

Run away? When did he ever run away? Suppressing his feelings, suppressing everything, was that running away? Even now, even when they are in the midst of facing an enemy, was he still running away?

"Mao, we can no longer run away."

He knows that. He's not trying to. But what was he doing wrong? Why hasn't anybody told him he was running away from everything in the first place? Perhaps... Perhaps he was supposed to be the one to realize that? To be the one to actually tell himself that?

"Yes, yes! Run away, that's what we do best!"

"Running away will only cause more scars."

"It's the best solution, man!"

...

"What of your friends, Mao?"

...Shut up.

"We could always replace them. They're just slaves!"

Shut up.

"Do think of them."

Shut... Just, shut up...

He bit his tongue to prevent himself from screaming, biting hard enough to cause blood and saliva to mix. He wanted to scream in frustration, in pain. He wanted to smash the mirror into mere pieces of shards and make everything else disappear. When was it? When was the last time he was this confused, this angry, this hurt?

He didn't know. He didn't want to find out.

It hurts, everything hurts. A pale hand rested on the middle of the mirror, right between the two reflections of himself. What was it? Between the two, what was his true self? Who was he really?

Neither? But what use are these mirrors? What's the use of seeing your own reflection, only to see something you're not? Mirrors, do they lie as well? Is there nothing, no one in this world that doesn't lie to him? Or was he the one lying to himself?

The young demon shut his eyes, attempting to drown everything out. No more. No more lying to himself, no more running away. Fear was threatening to overwhelm him again, but that was the least of his concerns, wasn't it?

When he opened his eyes, they were gone. Instead, he saw his own reflection on the mirror. The same image of a young demon, still hurt but no longer confused. He has to go back, back to them.

All his questions still weren't answered. Perhaps they will be, once his mind is all cleared of his troubles, once he has done what he must do.

"We're still here."

"We'll always be here, whenever you need us."

He knew that. He always knew that. And he'll never forget.

Silence crept in once again.

Short nothings:

Dark Mao and Mao's True Heart: The idea of being able to go into one's heart and see a person's true self and other parts of his personality always fascinated me, so I did more than just a drabble with these two. Dark Mao, well, I guess I portrayed him exactly as I see him. Mao's True Heart? I'm still having an inner debate with myself whether or not Mao will act like him somewhere in the future. I, I mean! The gentle and calm voice, the kind words, it just boggles the mind! It's not like Mao at all! Then again, this is his true heart...

Didn't know, may never know/didn't want to find out: You don't have to be very observant to notice this being scattered here and there in Mao's reflections. Yes, they were intentional. Somewhat a style I used in my earlier pieces of writing, all of which I no longer have files of in my computer. Guess I wanted to be a bit sentimental and use them one more time.

Fault: For the record, I don't see Mao as someone who always blames himself for everything that happens. It's just that while typing down the script of the part where he states that his dad has a grudge against him that this spawned into life. On top of that, I had Lonely Room ~Whistle of Memory~ softly playing playing in the background as I watched the video. Soo... That scene + Lonely Room arranged = this.

Lagniappe:

Reflection: The line "What's the use of seeing your own reflection, only to see something you're not?" is somewhat a reference to the song Reflection, sung by Lea Salonga in the film Mulan and by Christina Aguilera as a single. Basically, the whole thing is loosely based on the song.

Personal Comments: "Skill" failed by the end. I should write myself a note sometimes. Hey Kaz, Disgaea's a humorous series, you know. Not some melancholic series you can write these pieces of trash for. Ah well, so sorry for using you, Mao dearest. You know I love you. *shot*