This is an actual entry from my live journal (jennamarie29) I post my thoughts and little drabbles there, I just felt like sharing this one.

I own nothing, neither does Tsuzuki, he can't afford it.

Tsuzuki's entry...

Jenna's out to lunch, so I offered to write an entry for her. She said I could write whatever I was thinking, so long as I was honest.

Oh well, here goes nothing...

Another day, another dollar, even if I only ever see a quarter out of it.

Stupid pay cuts.

Sitting at my desk. I at least need to make a pretext of working. I actually finished all my paper work over an hour ago, but nobody will know that unless I tell them.

Besides, it wouldn't fit my image of the 'ultimate slacker'.

It's what most people believe anyways. Tatsumi knows better, after all, he gets all my finished reports. He knows that I'm very rarely late with them. I'm pretty sure Hisoka doesn't buy into it either, even if I do try to get him to write my reports every chance I get.

I just get a kick out of watching him sputter.

Actually, when you get right down to it, Hisoka takes longer to write his reports than I do. He's more meticulous, more detailed. After a century on the job, I've learned how to be succinct and to the point. In the days before computers it was kind of a necessity… The sheer amount of paper we produce in this department used to fill dozens of filing cabinets.

I'm very bored.

Computers were a boon for the department. We'd had typewriters, of course, but oddly enough, those of us who were there before they were never really adapted to them. Since we got the computers though, I've become a half-decent typist. Computers are a hell of a lot funner than those stupid typewriters anyways. Especially after we got internet access. But I'll never be as good with them as Hisoka is. Even though he didn't have too much access to computers when he was alive, it's like he was steeped in the knowledge of his… time period? Era?

I've noticed that a lot. Shinigami tend to be very good with the talents/obsessions that were popular during their life spans. I bet Watari would be awesome with a hula hoop. I should ask him sometime.

I stretch and stand up. Maybe I should get something to keep my hands busy. Unlike Hisoka, I don't really like to sit and read at work. I get too involved. If I read at work, I get too 'into' the story and tune everything else out. Not really the best thing to do in this place, I get enough odd looks around this place without suddenly laughing out loud at something I've read, or crying.

I do not cry at work.

Actually, I don't cry when I can be seen, to be more specific.

Show tears? Yup, I do that, all the time, but that's nothing.

And those very, very rare times that I cry, it's almost always silent.

Oops, Hisoka's glaring at me.

Bad way to let my thoughts go around him. Flash a grin and head out of the office. I'll just go and grab something from the break room.

Funny how Hisoka glares when he's worried. As much as I love him, and I do love him, I think he's a little messed up in the emotional department.

Okay, sorry, that was one of those thoughts where I just had to stop and shake my head at my own stupidity.

Of course Hisoka's messed up, we all are, but he's better than most of us when you get right down to it.

Give him time.

Wow. That was a pessimistic thought, even for me. There'd better be sugar in the break room; I think I need a pick-me-up.

It's true though, that Hisoka's not as bad as the rest of us. I don't even think I'm the most messed up person here.

Personally, I'd give that title to Wakaba.

Seriously, the girl's like Hello Kitty meets Martha Stewart on steroids and a perpetual acid trip. People like that don't exist. Either she's totally insane, or totally evil and trying to hide it. I vote for the second one, I think that would explain Terazuma.

No, really! It makes a weird kind of sense. He subconsciously knows what Wakaba is, and his shikigami has come to associate that feeling with females in general (probably since she is the only regular female in our department) so whenever a female touches him now, it tries to protect him by causing the transformations.

Well, it made sense when I thought of it the first time.

I hope Wakaba's made cookies. I may think she's pure evil, but I can't resist her macadamia nut cookies.

That's why I'm so cheerful around her too. It's like when you confront a wild animal, don't show fear, or they attack. So I'm always very carefully, happily exuberant.

Don't show fear.

Well, I'm cheerful around everyone, usually. I suppose I'm also the class clown. Tatsumi should thank me. I make people happy, happy people work harder, production goes up.

So I'm known as a bit of a goof.

Okay, so I'm known as a lot of a goof; and some other not-so-complimentary things. It doesn't bother me. In fact, I encourage it, for a number of reasons. I like to goof off, it's fun, and I like to make people laugh.

And when you're the class clown, the goof, the joke of the office, people don't tend to take you too seriously. It's easier to cover when the mask slips.

"Hey Tsuzuki!"

"Hey Watari."

"Wha'cha thinking about?"

"Nothing much, why?"

"Well, you've been stirring that coffee for about five minutes solid."

Oops. "I was thinking that we need cake to go with the coffee…" Deep sigh. "…or donuts. Don't you think that Tatsumi should be shelling out so we can have donuts with our coffee? It's not really expensive, division could afford it…"

"Figures." Watari grins indulgently and leaves the break room.

I let my ramble trail off and return my attention to my coffee.

But that's pretty much what I mean by the mask slipping. Easy to hide if no one expects anything too deep from you.

Watari must be having a bad day though; usually he picks up on my slips a little quicker than that. Which means he's concentrating a little too hard on his own mask. Hence a bad day.

Wonder who died.

Right. Sugar. Pick-me-up. Can't go back to the office like this, Hisoka will flay me alive.

Or once again prove he knows me better than I like to think.

Or just give me a few new bruises.

Have you ever heard the phrase 'happiness hurts'?

Probably not, I just make it up, but it seems fitting.

'Love hurts' works too.

One day last week, I was walking behind his desk with an arm full of office supplies and I dropped an elastic on his head.

He didn't notice.

So I walked behind him again and dropped another one in the same place.

He still didn't notice, he was too focused on his work.

So over the course of an hour, I dropped about eight more elastics on him.

Tatsumi noticed when he walked by, and gave me a disapproving look, but he started coming back every five minutes or so, just to see if Hisoka had noticed yet.

Hisoka must have gotten suspicious when I started giggling, but he still didn't figure out what was going on until I ran out of elastics and tried adding a paperclip.

My fun cost me two bruises, one where the book hit me, and one where he kicked me when I couldn't stop laughing. But it was worth it.

It must be worth it, 'cause if I don't find some sugar, I just may do the same thing again. I really do need a pick-me-up.

Everyone has a bad day now and then, and most of mine seem to stem from boredom. It gives me too much time to think.

I wonder if anyone will notice if I just run out to the store and buy myself a chocolate bar?

Crap, can't. I only get a quarter of that dollar. Damn.

Coffee doesn't count as a sweet, no matter how much sugar you put into it.

I'm tired. That seems to come along with the boredom. I wish I could go home. Then I could be bored and growing steadily more depressed by myself.

The mask is slipping.

Leaving the break room, cup of coffee in hand.

Sometimes the mask is thin, barely there, I don't need it. Sometimes I'm genuinely happy. In fact, most of the time I like to think.

Sometimes the mask slips, and I show parts of myself that I don't mean to. The parts that hurt, both me and the people who notice. Only people who care really notice, so they're the only one's who can be hurt when the mask slips.

And sometimes the mask breaks.

That's why crying is usually silent. A single sob can break the mask.

The masks we wear are very fragile, the smallest things can break them.

Hisoka's can be broken by a smile.

Watari's by a compliment.

Tatsumi's by a tear.

Kyoto broke all my masks. Shattered, pulverized, smashed. Too many people saw too much of what I never meant to show. Too much of what is real, what is raw and still hurts. Some wounds don't heal.

That Hisoka saw and stayed is a blessing

That Muraki saw and is still out there… is something else entirely.

Stop outside the office door and attempt to clear my head. A few more hours 'til quitting time. I can think of trivialities until then, mask firmly in place.

Maybe I can get Watari to come out with me later for a few drinks, and then if the masks slip, we'll both be too drunk to notice. No, wait, quarter… Oh, fuck it.

"Here."

Hisoka throws, and I catch automatically, coffee sloshing over the rim of my cup.

A chocolate bar.

My mask broke.

Understanding breaks mine.