A/N: This story was written for the RLt Green Room Challenge prompt "The Disney Song Title Challenge." This story was inspired by the song "Reflection" from Mulan.
The first time Hinami wears the mask Uta made for her, she is thirteen years old and the reflection terrifies her. This isn't the way Mommy and Daddy raised me, she thinks. Would they cry if they saw me like this?
She turns left, then right, checking it out from all angles. She strikes a pose with her hands on her hips, trying to look tough, like Touka. When that doesn't work, she raises her hands in the shape of claws and growls. Himani bends double, giggling. I'm so ridiculous; like some cosplayer. Though it looks like her vision is obstructed by the beak-like mask, she can see clearly, even into her periphery. She sighs and starts to take it off… Mommy and Daddy tried so hard to protect me from the ugly realities of being a Ghoul trapped in a human world, but now that they're gone, Touka says I need a mask's protection. She straightens her back and looks again.
The mask cannot hide Hinami from herself as she stares at the stranger looking back at her from the mirror in the apartment, but it can conceal her from the world around her. Touka, Kaneki, Yomo, they have more important things to worry about than my silly fears. But one day… one day, I'll be strong and I'll save them.
For months she puts the mask away, hiding it in Touka's guest bedroom's closet, only seeing it if she digs deeply and actively seeks it out. I don't want to hide who I am… not like this… it's bad enough I have to pretend to be human.
But everytime she sees Touka or Kaneki go out to defend themselves — and her — she thinks about it, waiting for her. Sometimes, when they've been gone too long, she's scared, and she's feeling extraordinarily weak, she opens the closet door, flings the hangers wide, and stares at it until the tears come.
Once or twice she actually touches it, dragging her fingernails along the ridges, the sound whispering promises to her — I am a reflection of who you will be… One day you'll look in the mirror and see nothing but the mask, forgetting who you were at the start.
Then Kaneki and Touka return, weary and bloodied, and she knows she's not ready to wear the mask or shoulder the responsibilities it represents. She's a child, not a warrior, just like the others treat her. I'm a burden and someday one of my friends will die because of me, as my mother did…
After hours, she goes down to the bar, because the mask haunts her like a boogeyman in the closet, and she helps bandage Touka's wounds. I'm good at that; if nothing else I will follow my father's footsteps and become a healer, not a fighter. That would make Mommy and Daddy happy. It would give me a purpose and a healer doesn't need to hide away their face.
Yomo stands quietly in the corner, still wearing his raven mask. He whispers with Kaneki who has already taken his off and thrown it carelessly on the bar. Kaneki's hair is wet and plastered to his head. He's worked so hard for us.
Uta comes in and sits quietly at the bar. Touka hands him her mask and he inspects the damage. "Don't worry, I'll have it repaired in a day or two. You'll be back to killing Doves in no time."
Uta doesn't judge Hinami; he doesn't ask her where it is, nor mention it at all. He only gazes at her, as if he knows a secret about her that he's waiting to reveal at the right moment.
Yomo moves around to the back of the bar and prepares a pot of coffee for them to share. Only when he bring his cup to his mouth, does he realize he's still masked. He lifts it up and sips the dark blend with the mask pushed up into his silver hair.
Oh… she thinks, it's just me… everyone else knows who they are and is comfortable behind their masks. What's wrong with me? Why can't I be like everyone else? Who could I be?
"It's not your time yet, Hinami-chan," Uta murmurs from his place on the far stool, coffee balanced on his knee. "You'll know when it is right to put on the mask and assume your true identity. Don't rush it."
The next time she dons the mask is the day she joins Aogiri Tree. There are no more tears, just determination, and she sees herself reflected in Ayato's sapphire eyes. She's done relying on others, it's time to stand on her own two feet, to make her own place, but concealing her weakness is easier behind the mask. She now realizes it is more than an elegant disguise, but that Uta's silly questions bared her open down to the heart, anticipating who she would become as she grew from an awkward child with a love-sick crush into a determined young woman.
At fifteen years old, most Japanese teens are slowly maturing in the safety of school and home, but I was formed in a crucible of pain and loneliness. Somehow the artist who had spent an hour measuring her head and face and making her laugh with inappropriate jokes knew her better than she had known herself. And she thinks of Uta as an artist — not just a manufacturer — because now that she has one, she understands that each mask is a portrait of the wearer, rendered in three dimensions. Wearing one of his designs is a great privilege.
At first, she hated her mask, thinking it was just another version of Renji's; A little bird, for a little 'sister.' But the more she lives and breathes beneath it, the clearer it becomes that she flies in her own right, not just on his tail feathers. How did Uta know that I'd become a predator?
Ayato stands before her, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his shoulders slumped casually, watching her knees shake. No matter how hard she tries she can't stop them. He could kill her in an instant, turn her away, or take her to meet The One-Eyed King, but his face is emotionless and as blank as Uta's old mask.
"I'm ready," Hinami says.
He smirks, liking the confident tone that resonates behind the black mask, and makes a rash decision to bring her in, hoping that neither one of them will regret it.
Himani relaxes and the knocking knees slow to a stop. His smile hides within it a trace of his sister and some of her warmth is reflected in his eyes. It's good to have a familiar face in front of her as Hinami starts this new phase of life, even if it is without Kaneki. Would he recognize who I've become behind my mask?
At Cochlea, she doesn't have the luxury of a mirror, nor can she hide behind her mask. Big Brother Kaneki, or whatever is left of him, had taken it from her when they'd brought her in. Where is it now? Is it some souvenir in a Dove's hand?
The only reflective surface in her cell is the pane of glass that separates her from the rest of the prison. Fifteen years old and a jail bird, she laughs inwardly. This certainly isn't what my parents had envision for my future.
Can she break out? It's unlikely with her own strength. Is Ayato on his way to rescue her? Probably not, despite everything that's passed between them over the last few months, but even if he showed up right now, she would refuse to go.
It is time to finish what I started all those years ago when I wrote that letter to First-Class Investigator Koutarou Amon to open the dialogue between Ghouls and humans. Even if that was a fool's dream, maybe, just maybe I can remind Big Brother Kaneki of who he was before. But should I? Is he not safe and happy now as someone new?
Kaneki — no, Sasaki — is on the other side of that glass now, holding the newest Sen Takatsuki novel. There is hope because he still loves reading, something they used to share. His awkward smile makes her cringe, averting her eyes and she sees her reflection come clearly into focus in the glass. But the book is a bribe meant to make me betray those I've left behind. I will give you something, Sasaki, a gift of knowledge, but not the kind you want.
She doesn't recognize the calm woman looking placidly back at her. The lines of her face are harder than they were before, her coffee-colored eyes are sharper, and her mouth no longer defaults to a smile.
No, he deserves to know who he was, even if he can never be that person again. For the sake of Kaneki, Sasaki needs to know who he was, in order to be complete.
"Do you like the works of Takatsuki-sensei? I met her twice; she was a wonderful woman. Maybe we can talk about our favorite book…"