Burning Deep Inside Her

20 December 1974

Kitajima Maya was more than a little happy, a couple days after that kind man, Hayami-san, had given her that ridiculously enormous and exaggeratedly generous tip. She has a feeling, that most of it was out of pity, or maybe it was because a rich man like that(his fine suit and coat were really hard to miss in the drab surroundings) that usually tipped like that and had no frame of reference of a reasonable one. She had stashed it away, hidden it in a loose floorboard in hopes of being able to buy her mother something nice for her birthday. And mostly because Maya had no idea what to do with so much money. Why the man had thought that 88,200 * yen was a normal amount to give to a young waitress, was beyond her.

She hopes, faintly, that she would see him again, not because of the tip, but because he had listened to her, looked remarkably interested in whatever idiotic thing she had said. She wonders, briefly, why such an older, rich and incredibly handsome man had listened to her. She doesn't know but is grateful all the same. Because for the first time, Maya had said something that hadn't been shot down- that hadn't been laughed off or dismissed for being so stupid. She hadn't realized how nice that could be, for someone to just listen to her. Because Hayami-san had done just that- he had been looking directly at her, dark eyes intent, handsome, chiseled face open and interested as she explained why she loves movies and tv. He hadn't rolled his eyes. He hadn't told her to put aside her likes because it would lead to nowhere- no, the man had ruffled her hair- annoying and completely rude, but it had been done in a gesture of reassurance. Startling affection.

Never forget a love like that. It can be easily taken away.

Maya wondered, what a handsome, obviously very rich and successful man like Hayami Masumi, had lost. Because that simple statement- oh that simple statement- told Maya that he had lost a love like her's, and while she understood how useless loving TV and movies was, she would didn't want to give it up. Because it was one of the things that was only her's, the only thing that didn't show her how stupid she was*, how much of a burden she was to her poor mother.

"Maya!" snaps her mother, eyes narrowed, quickly.

Maya shucks off her school shoes*(tight, pinched, half a size too small but her mother couldn't afford a new one), rushing forward in her socks, cringing at the anger she sees in her mother's face. Even though it was a frequent face, Maya hated upsetting her mother.

"Yes, Mama?" she said, desperately trying not to cringe as her mother stared her down.

Her mother was far from amused- face pinched, mouth pulling sharply at the frown lines around her otherwise young face, brows furrowed down angrily over her dark eyes. Maya was more than a little out of breath, having run about the last mile in her route to and from school, flexing her toes in sheer relief at the loss of pressure her too small shoes gave her.

"Where have you been, you should have been here hours ago!"

Maya thinks about the kids in the park, that had been eager to hear new stories. They're like her, without TVs and with ways of being entertained other than playing. The first time she had told a story, their moms' had thanked her(simple pleasure on their faces, grabbing at elementary children who were quiet for once)- the kids had begged and begged for more each time she dashed through the park on the way home from school. Sometimes even when she was going to school and they were on their way to theirs. It wasn't really odd to see Maya going to school with a lot of little kids hanging off of her arms or legs, climbing on her back as they begged for a story. If not on top of her, the children had a habit of trailing after her like ducklings following their mother. It had gotten to the point that a lot of their mother's had asked Maya to take care of them on the way to school, which was why she was often late to her morning class. Herding a bunch of five to eleven-year-olds was no easy feat for one twelve-year-old.

It was just a series of habits that had started. Maya could never bring herself to tell to tell the kids that so adoringly called her 'onee-chan', nor the tired looking mothers peppering her with little treats and thank you notes for taking a chore off of their shoulders by escorting the kids to school*. And sometimes Maya lost track of time. She could never afford a watch*.

"I lost track of time," she says, cringing as her mother clicks in disgust. She is shaking her head, frowns pinching further in her upset.

"Not only are you plain, but stupid! Oh, if only you weren't like your father! Get upstairs and dress for your shift. You're working until closing today because of your tardiness. I had to cover more than half of your shift!"

Maya blinks, hurt and dreading the homework in her backpack, but nods, making her way upstairs. She changes as quickly as she can, slipping into a worn, warm sweater and skirt. Carefully, she hangs her only uniform, making a note to ask her mother to fix the seam on her shirt(Maya herself could never really do it herself, as she was clumsy and often her mother lost patience and snatched whatever she was doing to do it properly*), before she grabs her work shoes and makes her way into the restaurant. She grabs her apron and forces a smile on her face. The owners give her a hard look as she sets about busing tables and taking orders, giving them up with as much cheer as she could. The night passes with its usual boring routine, a constant run between the ten tables and the counter, both hands with trays, ignoring the slightly drunk men as they hoot and holler, ignoring the jabbering housewives that look down on her old shoes and carefully repaired skirt, ignoring the irate customers that just want to make trouble because they can. When Sugiko-san comes in around eight make-up slightly smeared around her mouth, and wearing a sour expression and the apron for working around the restaurant, Maya shucks off her own apron and goes behind the counter, already reaching for a full delivery boxes, two, and quickly noting the addresses before she gives a nod to the cook, and goes off into the dark night.

It is around two in the morning that Maya finally makes it upstairs after sweeping and closing up the restaurant, chucking off her work shoes, and carefully removing her work clothes, folding them neatly and evenly on her part of the shared dresser. Her eyes are already closing as she drops onto the shared futon with her mother, on top, not even bothering to grab her pajamas that night, before she forces herself awake, and reaches for her homework. Luckily for her, it was Saturday tomorrow, and she only had a half* day of school, so she didn't have to worry about Japanese Classical literature, gym, English, or biology. She could push those off until, at the latest, her lunchtime on Monday, if not, Sunday. She gets to work on her math, tongue poking out until she finishes every last bit of the work.

It's a mess of confusing numbers- formulas half-remembered. But Maya works through it, sharpening her pencils with a blade* carefully, knicking herself only twice in both her tiredness and usual bout of clumsiness. It's five by the time that Maya finishes, no doubt having made a poor effort, but too glad to be finished in the first place to care too much.

It's six when her mother is shaking her awake, scolding her for not wearing proper clothes to bed and that if she catches a cold it will be her own fault. Maya, half awake, meekly takes her scolding with nods and several sleepy 'sorry Mamas', before she dresses in her uniform, quickly using some safety pins to close the small hole in her shirt as her mother had yet to fix it. She is already putting on her too small shoes, a piece of burnt toast clutched in her teeth as she ran out, stopping by each of the kids in her neighborhood who were chattering excitedly and begging for a story.

Finally, Maya felt a smile, a real one, come on her lips for the first time in nearly a day. She beamed at the children, lifting her slightly stiff and aching limbs and allowing two of her youngest 'ducklings' swing from her thin arms. She doesn't wince at the ten-kilogram weights at all or the way the ache deepened at their actions. The kids were giggling too hard for Maya to put them down.

"So you want a story?"

A chorus of pleas, of 'oh please onee-chan' fill her ears, and requests come around, children giggling and laughing with her. Pleading eyes, bright and innocent of little kids, surround her.

"Okay, so, do you want me to pick off where I left off or a new story?"

"Oh, where you left off yesterday in the park, Onee-chan!"

Smiling wider, Maya complies. Because Hayami-san said…

Never forget a love like that. It can be easily taken away.

And now, Maya intended never to do it.

AN: I do not own Garsu no Kamen in any sense. It's universe, characters all belong to its AMAZING creator, Suzue Mizuchu, its publishing and broadcasting companies.

This is me, playing in its sandbox, making misshapen sandcastles.

I should be doing history research damn it, I need to make a presentation to do but NO it has to be in the 70s and made me think of this... And now I'm horribly behind. Curse the, my beautiful Muse! Anyway, gosh was Maya much harder to write. Masumi was much more jaded and cynical, while I myself am jaded and cynical. Maya's optimism was hard... Her self-esteem issues, made this chapter a bit better to write, however. I apologize if it seems a little off for a twelve-year-old. It's been nine years since I've been one and it's hard to get into that mindset. I also wrote a lot less- but it felt like a good place to cut off here. I'm sorry if anyone expected Masumi again, but, this is a slow burn. And I'm sort of following the Manga by keeping their interactions fairly sparse for the first few 'months' of this fic. But fear not my lovely readers, they will see each other the chapter after the next. The next chapter is a Masumi's turn to show us his normal day, and the chapter after that is from Maya's POV seeing Masumi again. I plan on keeping an alternating POV between Maya and Masumi, with a few alternate POVs coming in once and a while, but within a chapter where one or the other is the principal POV. Properly Maya's mother or Suigiko for now, as the other characters won't matter until canon events start happening which is chronologically about a year away.

1*: Roughly thirty dollars, though the exchanged rate was taken not from 1974 but rather 1975, as that was the farthest back I could find. Also, 30 bucks was a lot in 1974.

2*: Maya isn't stupid. This is a girl that memorizes entire plays and people's expressions and movements in a single three-hour viewing. She is more than likely highly intelligent when it comes to things that she loves/is driven to do. She just has a very low opinion of herself, and really has no drive before she started acting. I always thought that in combination to working as a waitress, and her mother and a lot of people putting her down, she struggles to do anything. Confidence can really affect how a person learns and behaves in a highly structured environment like school, especially at such a young age.

Because hormones are a bitch.

3*: Shoes typical to Japan uniforms are expensive, usually made out of leather even today, and Maya is from a single-parent household in the 1970s. She most likely can only afford a pair every two years, if that.

4*: Maya is such a sweetheart. And I needed to give her a little lightness around all the horribleness that is her early life. She always seems to get along with kids throughout the manga, and in the first volume, another mother knows her by name. Even if the Yokohama district is really small at the time of the manga, I always assumed that she had a relationship with some of the mothers in the neighborhood. After all, we see her entertaining kids in the park when she grabs Tsukiga's attention. I just expanded on that because Maya needs some good.

5*: Digital watches were in the market by 1970, but were fairly expensive. All watches were, really, and we don't see anyone with them other than the characters that are fairly wealthy, to begin with, like Masumi, Mitsuki, and Ayumi(properly branded too!).

6*: Again, any time we see Maya do something, her mother screams at her for doing it wrong, and calls her useless and stupid, instead of teaching her how to do it correctly. I seriously think that Maya's mother gave Maya some serious phycological issues when it comes to her self-esteem and prevents her from learning how to do things. A lot of people struggle with how to do things when they don't know the proper way of doing things- Once we see Maya with a mentor, with any semblance of attention and praise, even Tsukagi who is a fucking taskmaster and more than a little abusive, Maya blooms. Maya's mother never really gives the poor girl a chance. To bitter about the death of her husband/and or baby-daddy(never really explicitly said in the manga) who, by implication, looks and acts a lot like her father.

7*: Most Japanese schools have a six-day week- or really five and a half, using Saturdays for half day lessons and club activities for the latter half of the day. I know... The horror of not having a Saturday!

8*: Sharpeners as we know it today, were not invented till... The early 80s I want to say(do not quote me on that)? At least I know that in the 70s using a blade was fairly common to do it, and in the manga proper, we can see Maya doing it.

Please read and review my lovelys- the two who have done so made my days c:

~Happy Reading,

Moon Witch '96