Masks

They all had their masks.

Lavi, smiling, joking, acting like a fool, that was his mask. He didn't actually see any reason to smile or rile up the man known as Kanda Yuu, but he did it because it was part of his training. He was emotionless, he wondered if one of his so called friends were to die if he'd go to the effort to look like this would sadden him. He didn't care for any of them. He was a Bookman, he was a recorder, not a mere human being that started wars and hated and loved and felt joy and sadness, he was a Bookman and Bookmen were above such measly things such as emotions. He made sure not to show this.

Kanda had his own mask as well. He saw them everywhere, the flowers, the accursed lotuses. He would see them no matter where he looked and no one else would and the only thing he could do as the sweet smell of the flowers penetrated his very mind, as his fingers accidently brushed against the soft petals was to ignore them, act like they weren't there. And every time he would close his eyes or sleep the lotuses would finally disappear only to be replaced by Alma, to be replaced by her. His one true love, he would see her bleeding and dying and crying as Alma laughed hysterically as he pointed towards their bodies, covered in blood and surrounded by corpses. He didn't want to scowl, he didn't want to glare. He wanted to scream and shout as he cried and hid his face in his hands and sobbed like a broken child. But he remained hidden behind his mask.

Even Lenalee had her very own mask. As she looked at her brother she would show exasperation but underneath there was a desperate love and a plea of 'please don't leave me'. People always called Komui overprotective and while not assuming that Lenalee didn't love him they all agreed that it Komui loved her more. They were wrong. Komui meant the world to he, she hated being alone. She needed his love and comfort and presence. If anything ever happened to him she would go mad. She didn't show any of this.

And Allen too. His mask was firm and hard to crack. He was polite and smiling and happy but underneath he was just a grieving rude child trying to imitate his dead hero that he had killed himself with his own left hand. He was not polite, he was not patient, and he was not brave. He was ruder than a sailor and less patient than Kanda's mask, and if there was anything he wasn't it was brave. He was a coward. A stinking useless coward. He was disgusting. Mana had always told him to keep on walking, he pretended to follow this advice, but he wasn't keeping on walking, he was running away. After he had killed Mana he'd gone insane. He'd literally gone insane. So he'd had to create a persona to imitate so he wouldn't go gaga and kill everyone around him like he'd killed Mana. So he'd started imitating Mana. He wasn't his own person, he was a carbon copy of Mana. A sad desperate, miserable thing with an impenetrable mask.

They all had their masks, and they wouldn't remove them for the world. They're true selves had died a long time ago.


Please review! I know it's really short but I hope I made up for that with my honest insights.