Disclaimer: Of course I don't own this popular anime/manga. Why would a
lowly fanfic writer such as myself own it? I would say something in my
favour, but being held at gunpoint by irate lawyers might not be such a
good time to do so...
Summary: Anzu contemplates why she plays...the crying game. A little in depth analysis on this supposedly cheerful, innocent girl.
-- The Crying Game --
Fallacious.
What an interesting word. It could have the meaning of untrue, deceptive, misleading, fictitious.... My, what so many synonyms. What so many words to describe myself. I am fallacious. Yes, it has a nice ring to it. It may as well be my favorite word as of now. If only I had some paper and a pencil in this place...but currently I am restricted to those types of materials. Ah, well.
Fake.
False.
Façade.
Those are more words that I am fond of. I've just noticed that they all begin with the letter 'F'... Heh. Why am I so fond of such words? I answered that above. Because they describe me. Mazaki Anzu.
You weren't expected that particular name, were you?
Ah, but it's true. I am Mazaki Anzu. Well, my façade is Anzu, but I have no name for who I am... I suppose I was once truly this Anzu girl. Perhaps...in time I can barely remember. Oh dear, I'm seeming a little too dramatic, aren't I? Heh, sometimes the truth is rather dramatic. And right now, I feel compelled to speak the truth. Even if it is only to myself.
Cheerful.
Carefree.
Caring.
Anzu could be described with these words. My dear façade. How many people she fools... It's quite extraordinary. The cheerful laughs, the carefree smiles, the caring demeanor. I'm amazed at how I've managed to create a façade so unlike myself, but that * is * the whole point isn't it? I created Mazaki Anzu so that others would never meet * me * Why do I not want others to see the real me, you ask? So many questions you have... And I'm afraid the answer I'm about to give isn't as simple as the previous ones.
I am...how would you say...dangerous. To others and myself. That is the reason I'm enclosed in this place right now. They have deemed me insane. Heh, it's quite humourous really. Mazaki Anzu is not insane, she is perfectly normal. But perhaps I am. And on a sidenote...I should praise them on their wonderful taste in décor. A wholly white room is very sophisticated. Although the dress attire is not very comfortable...
What were we talking about again? Oh yes. Well, no one ever suspected I was insane before that little incident...that landed me in here. Anzu was a positive, determined young woman. If not annoying to many of those around her. Thought I didn't know that little detail? Heh. Anzu may have been exceptionally dense, but I'm not. After all, I am her creator. What kind of creator would I be if I didn't know what my own façade was like?
Many people loathed Anzu. Perhaps it was because she was * too * naïve, * two * dense, * too * cheerful. But I was quite prepared for her to get a negative response. That was what I was hoping for. Better to annoy them to hell, than risk myself getting out of control. And that was what I was afraid of. Myself, swirling out of control. I was...dare I use the word.... terrified that innocent people would be hurt by me. Particularly those close to me, such as my friends and family. That was probably the reason I crafted Anzu in the first place. To protect others. To protect me from myself.
I didn't have a particularly bad childhood as that is first comes to mind when you think of the...unusual way I grew up to be. My parents divorced while I was at an early age, but that's about the only abnormal thing that shook my otherwise normal, typical life. No abuse (physical or verbal), no rape incidents, nothing. My parents may have been a little overbearing at times, but that made little difference. Perhaps I have always been this way...since the day I arrived in this world. I know I created Anzu as earlier as ten years old. That's when I began to realize that I was different from the other children. I began to feel afraid of what I could do to others and myself. My, my...how talkative I am today. It must be the white walls.
Anzu had friends. Friends that thought she was bit exasperating perhaps, but friends nevertheless. Close friends. Close friends that she truly cared about...to a high extent. That, I did not anticipate. She was not created for the purpose of having actual friends, but to live a life of normality while keeping me in the shadows of her innocence. This 'friendship' issue had blemished my flawless plan for I had also begun to care for these 'friends' and that could not be allowed. It was too risky...too treacherous. But my, what fun those 'friendship rants' could be...
Treacherous, my caring had become...just as I feared. With this concern came...new realizations and thoughts that I had not thought of before. These thoughts were unfamiliar and bizarre. I was treading in foreign territory. I began to ponder of the frigidness I felt inside of me and had begun to hate that coldness. That I would not tolerate. I was supposed to * love * the chill, not dislike it. And then...those repugnant drops of fluid were born.
It was then I took the first step into a new game. The crying game.
I did not have a reason for why I cried. It wasn't out of pain or sorrow. Nor of joy. Perhaps it was the rapid fascination I had for those crystalline beads of water when they leisurely trailed down my face and dropped into my lap. I loved the sensation of crying and felt that more than any emotion that went with the tears. In all truth, I never cried out of any emotion. I cried...because it was fun. This game...it was born from my sudden dislike of coldness, but that wasn't the reason I played it. Enjoyment, my dears, enjoyment. It was a new challenge in which I was delighted to perform. It tested my humanity.
I observed other human beings. I observed how they cried, their reaction to their tears. And I was puzzled. They didn't seem to be entertained by the lovely drops as I was. They appeared to loathe them. It was most likely because they either cried out of turmoil of happiness. But I was still bewildered.
Hmm...all this musing over tears has produced a hunger inside. A hunger to feel those droplets. I can cry at will. Soon the tears will come....
Drip...
Drop.
Drip...
Drop.
Heh. Look...watch how they roll down my cheeks in perfect, round ovals then fall gently onto my lap, wet splotches appearing on my white cloths. Fascinating. I slowly reach up and capture a drop on the tip of my index finger. I raise it up and watch how the harsh fluorescent light from the ceiling gleams in reflection on the water. Lovely.
Oh, you have another question for me? How did the outside world find me insane? Sigh...I was simply doing my duty as a friend to my companions. Jounouchi, Yuugi, Honda, Yami, Ryou...all my friends were in danger. I realized they would always be in danger. Too many perilous dangers in this world. So I killed them. That way, if they're already dead, they won't be hurt from the perils of life. I protected them. But apparently the others did not share my pride in this. Insane, they titled me and that was how I ended up in this rather interesting place. The insane asylum....I think they called it.
It can get boring here, however. So I play the crying game to amuse myself. The nurses and doctors in this place are puzzled over why I do this and when they ask me, my answer only confuses them even more. That's fun too.
Do you want to play my game? The crying game? It would be even more amusing if I had other to play it with. No? Heh, fine. But you have no idea what pleasure you're denying yourself from having. What—Oh, excuse me. Someone has come to visit me.
"Mazaki-san? It's time for your morning therapy." A nurse stands in the open doorway of my cell, clipboard in hand. I smile at her and stand up slowly, smoothing down my uniform. The nurse shifts nervously and eyes me with her cool grey eyes suspiciously. All the people I have encountered here have either been afraid or suspicious of me. It must have something to do with my so-called insanity.
The nurse motions me out the door and I agreeably comply. I smile wider as I pass her on my way out the door and to my bemusement the woman shivers slightly. Shrugging, I continue on my way, down the colourless corridor. It's therapy time.
It seems that my game will have to wait until later. My, what a wonderful game. ..
..
..
The crying game.
:: Reviews are an author's oxygen. Don't let me suffocate. * smiles * ::
Summary: Anzu contemplates why she plays...the crying game. A little in depth analysis on this supposedly cheerful, innocent girl.
-- The Crying Game --
Fallacious.
What an interesting word. It could have the meaning of untrue, deceptive, misleading, fictitious.... My, what so many synonyms. What so many words to describe myself. I am fallacious. Yes, it has a nice ring to it. It may as well be my favorite word as of now. If only I had some paper and a pencil in this place...but currently I am restricted to those types of materials. Ah, well.
Fake.
False.
Façade.
Those are more words that I am fond of. I've just noticed that they all begin with the letter 'F'... Heh. Why am I so fond of such words? I answered that above. Because they describe me. Mazaki Anzu.
You weren't expected that particular name, were you?
Ah, but it's true. I am Mazaki Anzu. Well, my façade is Anzu, but I have no name for who I am... I suppose I was once truly this Anzu girl. Perhaps...in time I can barely remember. Oh dear, I'm seeming a little too dramatic, aren't I? Heh, sometimes the truth is rather dramatic. And right now, I feel compelled to speak the truth. Even if it is only to myself.
Cheerful.
Carefree.
Caring.
Anzu could be described with these words. My dear façade. How many people she fools... It's quite extraordinary. The cheerful laughs, the carefree smiles, the caring demeanor. I'm amazed at how I've managed to create a façade so unlike myself, but that * is * the whole point isn't it? I created Mazaki Anzu so that others would never meet * me * Why do I not want others to see the real me, you ask? So many questions you have... And I'm afraid the answer I'm about to give isn't as simple as the previous ones.
I am...how would you say...dangerous. To others and myself. That is the reason I'm enclosed in this place right now. They have deemed me insane. Heh, it's quite humourous really. Mazaki Anzu is not insane, she is perfectly normal. But perhaps I am. And on a sidenote...I should praise them on their wonderful taste in décor. A wholly white room is very sophisticated. Although the dress attire is not very comfortable...
What were we talking about again? Oh yes. Well, no one ever suspected I was insane before that little incident...that landed me in here. Anzu was a positive, determined young woman. If not annoying to many of those around her. Thought I didn't know that little detail? Heh. Anzu may have been exceptionally dense, but I'm not. After all, I am her creator. What kind of creator would I be if I didn't know what my own façade was like?
Many people loathed Anzu. Perhaps it was because she was * too * naïve, * two * dense, * too * cheerful. But I was quite prepared for her to get a negative response. That was what I was hoping for. Better to annoy them to hell, than risk myself getting out of control. And that was what I was afraid of. Myself, swirling out of control. I was...dare I use the word.... terrified that innocent people would be hurt by me. Particularly those close to me, such as my friends and family. That was probably the reason I crafted Anzu in the first place. To protect others. To protect me from myself.
I didn't have a particularly bad childhood as that is first comes to mind when you think of the...unusual way I grew up to be. My parents divorced while I was at an early age, but that's about the only abnormal thing that shook my otherwise normal, typical life. No abuse (physical or verbal), no rape incidents, nothing. My parents may have been a little overbearing at times, but that made little difference. Perhaps I have always been this way...since the day I arrived in this world. I know I created Anzu as earlier as ten years old. That's when I began to realize that I was different from the other children. I began to feel afraid of what I could do to others and myself. My, my...how talkative I am today. It must be the white walls.
Anzu had friends. Friends that thought she was bit exasperating perhaps, but friends nevertheless. Close friends. Close friends that she truly cared about...to a high extent. That, I did not anticipate. She was not created for the purpose of having actual friends, but to live a life of normality while keeping me in the shadows of her innocence. This 'friendship' issue had blemished my flawless plan for I had also begun to care for these 'friends' and that could not be allowed. It was too risky...too treacherous. But my, what fun those 'friendship rants' could be...
Treacherous, my caring had become...just as I feared. With this concern came...new realizations and thoughts that I had not thought of before. These thoughts were unfamiliar and bizarre. I was treading in foreign territory. I began to ponder of the frigidness I felt inside of me and had begun to hate that coldness. That I would not tolerate. I was supposed to * love * the chill, not dislike it. And then...those repugnant drops of fluid were born.
It was then I took the first step into a new game. The crying game.
I did not have a reason for why I cried. It wasn't out of pain or sorrow. Nor of joy. Perhaps it was the rapid fascination I had for those crystalline beads of water when they leisurely trailed down my face and dropped into my lap. I loved the sensation of crying and felt that more than any emotion that went with the tears. In all truth, I never cried out of any emotion. I cried...because it was fun. This game...it was born from my sudden dislike of coldness, but that wasn't the reason I played it. Enjoyment, my dears, enjoyment. It was a new challenge in which I was delighted to perform. It tested my humanity.
I observed other human beings. I observed how they cried, their reaction to their tears. And I was puzzled. They didn't seem to be entertained by the lovely drops as I was. They appeared to loathe them. It was most likely because they either cried out of turmoil of happiness. But I was still bewildered.
Hmm...all this musing over tears has produced a hunger inside. A hunger to feel those droplets. I can cry at will. Soon the tears will come....
Drip...
Drop.
Drip...
Drop.
Heh. Look...watch how they roll down my cheeks in perfect, round ovals then fall gently onto my lap, wet splotches appearing on my white cloths. Fascinating. I slowly reach up and capture a drop on the tip of my index finger. I raise it up and watch how the harsh fluorescent light from the ceiling gleams in reflection on the water. Lovely.
Oh, you have another question for me? How did the outside world find me insane? Sigh...I was simply doing my duty as a friend to my companions. Jounouchi, Yuugi, Honda, Yami, Ryou...all my friends were in danger. I realized they would always be in danger. Too many perilous dangers in this world. So I killed them. That way, if they're already dead, they won't be hurt from the perils of life. I protected them. But apparently the others did not share my pride in this. Insane, they titled me and that was how I ended up in this rather interesting place. The insane asylum....I think they called it.
It can get boring here, however. So I play the crying game to amuse myself. The nurses and doctors in this place are puzzled over why I do this and when they ask me, my answer only confuses them even more. That's fun too.
Do you want to play my game? The crying game? It would be even more amusing if I had other to play it with. No? Heh, fine. But you have no idea what pleasure you're denying yourself from having. What—Oh, excuse me. Someone has come to visit me.
"Mazaki-san? It's time for your morning therapy." A nurse stands in the open doorway of my cell, clipboard in hand. I smile at her and stand up slowly, smoothing down my uniform. The nurse shifts nervously and eyes me with her cool grey eyes suspiciously. All the people I have encountered here have either been afraid or suspicious of me. It must have something to do with my so-called insanity.
The nurse motions me out the door and I agreeably comply. I smile wider as I pass her on my way out the door and to my bemusement the woman shivers slightly. Shrugging, I continue on my way, down the colourless corridor. It's therapy time.
It seems that my game will have to wait until later. My, what a wonderful game. ..
..
..
The crying game.
:: Reviews are an author's oxygen. Don't let me suffocate. * smiles * ::