Star Shadow: Okay I know it's been awhile--

Dark Stratos: Awhile? Try over a month.

Star Shadow: *glares* But I'm going through some writers blocks an--

Dark Stratos: I'd say!

Star Shadow: *glares again* And I know what the last few chapters are going to be, bu--

Dark Stratos: She doesn't know how to get there, so you'll have to give her a bre--

Star Shadow: *smacks him with her giant war fan* Stop interrupting!

Dark Stratos: X.x *ish smacked*

Star shadow: *mumbles about a stupid spirit muse* Anyway, here's an update. Sorry if it sucks. My muse won't get off his lazy ass. I'm also upping the rating to PG-13.

Disclaimer: For the Revolution of the World! Nope! Don't own 'em... Or that quote...

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The Journal

Star Shadow and Dark Stratos

Chapter Four: The Mask

Seifer took a deep breath as he relaxed on the second floor balcony, the ocean's wind ruffling his hair as the garden flew on a course unknown to everyone, including the pilot. His head fell back as he relaxed while staring into the endless blue skies. He smiled softly at a few of the clouds who knew that this was who he really was. They knew the gentle part of his soul. The soul he hid from everyone around him for longer than he could remember.

He frowned slightly at the thought. The farthest back he could remember being was seven and that was just barely. He never revealed his true self to anyone. His whole was of acting was just a facade, a mask that he protected himself with. It was a mask he lost himself in more than once. A mask that hid his pain a took away some of his feelings of freedom and self.

He looked back to one of his only comforts with eyes that were fuzzed from being unfocused. He tried to identify the sadness that was pulling at him. It was like an emptiness that he could never fill. It felt as if there was a piece of himself missing because of, what he assumed to be, his mask. He pulled his knees to his chest as the emptiness increased. It hurt more than any physical wound and only intensified with every lash of harsh words. It didn't matter that people were warming up to him like that girl in the cafeteria if more gave him their loathing.

He wondered if anyone else had ever experienced this pain. Sometimes he felt as if all the feelings had left him and that his heart had nothing left to give him, not even emotion. It was at these times he let the tears he held back fall. He never knew when they started, but they fell without sound and without the fulfillment of true crying. It was like a feeling of hopelessness that didn't exist.

He was pushed to the brink of this feeling again, the one that left you in a pit with almost no light. It made you want to look up in the darkness to the pin-prick of light that kept you going. It was a light he had thought he lost several times.

A splash on his skin forced his eyes to refocus. The soft salt water of his tears against his calloused skin had a strange feeling of roughness as splashed against his collar bone. He was crying, but why? He didn't feel as horrid as he normally did when this happened in the past. He couldn't tell what was wrong.

A dry sob escaped his throat as more tears threatened to fall. The only problem was that he had let them all fall leaving his soul feeling all the more tortured. He almost smiled at the emptiness in him as another pitiful sob escape his lips. He buried his face in his arms and let endless sobs shake him.

"I'm empty," he whispered as a final tear slid down his face, his words almost lost in the soothing breeze that enveloped him before moving past. He never noticed as a quite form slipped back into the Garden halls.

Taking a deep breath he reached to the journal beside him. He opened it, hoping for something, anything. Only one statement was clear to him.

Dear Journal,

I'm going to tell you something I keep from everyone. I have a great pain inside me that I hide behind the mask of sublime happiness. I feel myself slipping and crying sometimes while I don't feel. I feel a rift within myself that I can never fill or even fill. I'm empty. I'm feel empty. It's as if there is nothing inside me, and yet I go on. With nothing I go on and this shows me that I have nowhere to go. Perhaps one day I'll tell the world, or maybe it will get better in time. But for now I have nothing inside and I have nowhere to go but up.

~Rachel Coley

"I'm empty," he repeated, his words and hers. Seifer stood tall, the red tint from his pain gone leaving his eyes a clear green. "Do you hear that!?" he yelled to nothing and everything at once. "You can't take anything more from me! There is nothing left to take! I have nothing for you and...," his voice dropped. "And I have no where to go but up."

A wave of peace passed through him as he spoke, his coat fluttering in the wind. He could go on now that he knew he wasn't alone. If another, even if it was just one, knew his pain, even if they had never really met, the pain became all the more bearable.

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Star Shadow: I do know that was kind of depressing, but I needed an update and erm... I started writing and it just came to me. This is one of the more serious chapters.

Dark Stratos: We know that this really doesn't fit to well with the story, but it felt needed. I know someone who goes through stages like this.

Star Shadow: I'm one of those people. I'm not feeling like that right now or anything, but the experiences are something I can imagine Seifer or maybe even Squall having.

Dark Stratos: Please read and review. You can even give advice if necessary.