Author's notes: Well, I bet you thought you'd never see another part of this one. But despair not! I promise I'll finish it within the next few months. No really, I do. But first I'd like to thank everybody who has been commenting and waiting for all that time. You are wonderful, guys! I also made a few changes – most notably the title – but I also altered the numeration of the diverse chapters. The old prologue is now part 1 and so on. Anyway, I hope you have fun reading. Ayumie

A MASK OF HUMANITY

Part IV (Tetei)

"... so I asked her what she meant, that I should take both classes, because you realize that them being at the same time it'd be kind of impossible to do so, and..."

I smile at the chattering girl, trying to pay attention to what she is saying. Not a mean task, given that I don't know any of the people she is talking about. But she is so vibrant, so full of life that it doesn't matter – watching her alone is enough. It soothes me to see her like this, happy and well, soothes my conscience. What I did to her ... is abominable, so much so I noticed it even back then.

"Julian? Do you want another coffee?"

I blink rapidly and belatedly notice the waiter. I smile again and nod. Sherrill smiles indulgently, obviously not surprised by my inattentiveness. We have been seeing each other regularly since I helped her move in so I guess by now she is used to my failings. As she is sitting here, wearing jeans and some fashionable blouse so important to girls these days, it is difficult to imagine her in that other, arcane world. And yet there are moments I expect her to turn around and call me angel-sama: when she playing one of her many instruments, when she wears her hair open, soft waves falling around her shoulders, when I am once more forced to notice how her eyes are ... hers. So strange to think that even her name is the same. She doesn't remember. It is a good thing I guess. She is happy now, healthy, better off without memories that all in all must amount to a nightmare. I am not even sure she could remember, being human in the first place. Would she choose to? Would I be happier not knowing?

I have been asking her very carefully about dreams and visions but so far she has shown no sign of remembering – or she did she hasn't told me about it. I do not want her to remember. I want her just as she is now, living a happy life as a carefree young girl. And still I have found myself on the brink of telling her. I ... I want to apologize, want to be sure of her forgiveness. She already told me she bore me no ill will and yet I can't help the wish to have her know the whole truth and look me in the eye and say that she is still my friend. But that mustn't happen – it would destroy her. I guess I will have to atone by keeping all of it to myself, then. The coffee arrives and I suddenly realize that for some time now Sherrill has been uncharacteristically quiet. I've been staring at her, haven't I? Quickly averting my eyes I add milk and sip at the hot concoction, promptly burning my mouth. Very elegant.

As I look up again Sherrill mouth is small and tight.

"Julian ... I ... I've been wanting to tell you something. I'm not very good with these things but please just let me finish. We – I enjoy being with you. You are kind and polite and you always make me laugh and I ... I think I like you. I do like you. Very much."

Stunned, it is all I can do to keep my mouth shut. Does she ... mean what I think she means? But that's impossible. She's but a child, a – no, she is a young woman now, older than she ever was when I last knew her. I feel vaguely sick, unable to think of anything to say. I don't love her. She's my friend and I like her more than, well, than anyone else actually, but I don't love her. Even more, I don't want her. I look at her feeble smile and still the words won't come.

"You – you don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to know. I don't expect anything from you, really, I don't."

But she does and I can't give it to her. And now she is hurting, hurting because of me. After another half an hour of near silence and awkward conversation we leave. I promise her to call her this weekend and although the word date has never been spoken I can feel it hanging in the air. I feel like an asshole. I haven't led her on – at least I don't think I have – and still it feels like I'm responsible. Hurrying down the stairs to the subway, I somehow manage to not run into anyone. Yamato would probably laugh and call me a fool for not having seen this coming. After all I'm supposed to be the clever one, right? That is, that's what I imagine he'll say, if he can be bothered to stay around long enough to listen me out. I still don't know what to make of last week. One minute we were lying on the floor, doing what we were doing, and in the next he just ran off. I wanted him, tried to show him that I did and he just ... left. At first I thought he was sick for he locked himself into the bathroom but when he reemerged half an hour later he didn't seem as much ill as angry. I just feigned sleep. He hasn't even tried to touch me since...

In the light of this new event, I soon realized that he is acting strangely as well. He seems very ... distracted, always looking over his shoulder, always stopping mid-sentence when I try to talk to him. With anyone else I'd suspect a secret lover but Yamato? Zadei and another – another what? Man? Woman? That's just ... unimaginable. Or is it? I didn't use to think that love even exists, let alone that he is capable of it. What if it was – is – nothing but lust? What if he just doesn't want me anymore? Maybe that's what he was trying to tell the other night. I shake my head, throat closing against the bitterness welling in my mouth. No. He was willing to die for me. And why does it even matter? I shouldn't care. But I do care. I want him to want me. I want him to love me. I'm being paranoid. He's probably at home already, waiting for me and about ready to rip my clothes off. And after we've had sex I'll tell him that about my suspicions and we'll laugh about them. And we'll talk about Sherrill and find a solution. And he'll say again that I shouldn't be so hard on myself, that I shouldn't blame myself for something I did in another live. He'll say that he wants me.

As I open the door to our apartment my heart thinks. The two small rooms are dark, empty.