"TAKEBA WAIT!"

It was those words that 'saved' us. A beautiful older girl walked down from the stairs and moved towards the three of us, her words and actions causing the one in pink to falter and lower her weapon. We know what it is now, but back then, it was no different than any other gun, and with how things turned out, it might as well have been a weapon—a suicide weapon as well.

The girl in pink—now Yukari Takeba—led me to my room first, a mediocre mask of intrigue and a bad attempt at normalizing the mood—something that's a little hard to do after you threaten someone's life, intentional or not. I entered my room and sat on my bed, holding my head in one of my hands, wondering how strange everything so far was—how 'interesting' it all was—at least on paper. Apathy had become my greatest friend, alongside my lack of a desire to be close to anyone. I was truly free from pain, or at least that's what I told myself. I wonder how Yukari spoke to you. When was she taking you to your room with a faux mask of normality?

Days went by, normal, but with a hint of mystery and terror hidden behind the lense of those fresh to it all. You and I were suspicious, but we let a false sense of security creep into us. Junpei Iori was one of the reasons why—for you at least, I could never truly stand him, but you did, and I hated you for it.

"Sup dude!" The moronic boy said to you, not noticing me if he was in his own world—a world where he could talk to you freely. I hated him when I first saw his smile; it was beyond fake, the kind an abused man puts on when he's too cowardly to admit his agonizing situation to those he loves. Junpei Iori had no one to love, not yet at least, and that was another reason why I hated him.

Yukari and Junpei bickered for a bit before she stopped and turned to you, hoping to ignite a conversation. I didn't care. Still don't. I left the room before she could drag me into it; Iori had left a bad taste in my mouth, and I refused to be in a situation that could break my mask. Ego makes normally rational people do irrational things, but then again, I was never 'normal' or 'rational'; I lost those things the same time I lost my parents. But you didn't lose either, or at least that's what you told yourself—what your mask said when you were out in public.

'IHATEITALLIHATEITALLIHATEITALLIHATEITALLIHATEITALLIHA-'

Sometimes I would have dreams of another me—a me with golden eyes that glowed with a sinister edge, eyes that looked through as if I could hide nothing, because those eyes were my own. No, that was not right. I am me; there is no one else, just me. There is no such thing as a 'true self'; we all wear masks to hide the truth: that there is nothing.

(Keep telling yourself that, fool.)

I constantly think back to that night—the first full moon we saw there. We were both rudely awakened by Yukari, who handed us weapons to use against some unseen force in that moment. They weren't unseen for long.

We eventually made it to the roof, out of breath from running so quickly. It appeared, its disgusting, slimy limbs grabbing onto the ledge of the roof.

Yukari was down, most likely knocked out from the beast's attack, and that gun she pointed at us earlier that month was by your feet. I got hit too, trying to defend you; a sword cutting through my shoulder and almost bisecting me was not pleasant. You wouldn't even get hit, even if you were in the way. After all, I'm not perfect like you; I can't pretend to be better when I'm not, even if I think your mask is pathetic.

I wish it was me sometimes, but then I remember that only you could be that perfect. (A perfect savior for an imperfect species, for me, who is imperfect—worthless even.)

Thanatos, as we now know it, emerged from the sea of your soul, its horrific visage striking silent terror into the Full Moon Shadow. Thanatos showed no mercy, even when evoked by someone as merciful as you. The shadow stood no chance; it was ripped to shreds and obliterated like a predator ravaging its prey after going hungry for a long time.

That was only the beginning of your mask cracking, but you didn't turn out like me because you're perfect and I'm worthless, even with the power I received as well.

What a bunch of bullshit Takeba spouted.

"I'm just like you two."

Garbage spouted from a spoiled brat who thought she was right about everything. Would you believe me if I said that she was almost responsible for undoing your perfect, hard work? When she and Mitsuru decided to undo everything we went through, did they just stop feeling sorry for themselves? Perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself, but I need to explain myself.

(You're unreliable.)

(You killed your own self-worth, even when it would've benefited you more than her.)

As much as it hurts me, you were the right girl for the job—saving a hopeless species from itself. It doesn't matter how much S.E.E.S. thought or said otherwise; mankind was doomed. That seal was nothing more than a small diversion in a war taking place since the beginning of time. But the world as we know it hasn't ended yet; maybe you're so perfect that you can even make mankind forget its desire for death to escape this miserable existence. I hate you, but I love you. Why couldn't you say those words to me?

(You know why.)

We shouldn't have joined when they asked us, but I wanted to follow in your footsteps—to see where life would take the both of us and if it would take me to an equally good place like you.

It didn't.

END OF CHAPTER 2