Magnificent.

Fuji Syusuke couldn't help but admire the hidden imperfections behind the veneer of graceful lines and solid substance of the mask. It was even more magnificent for the fact that it changed constantly. It shifted in shape and appearance to suit the wearer like colorful ribbons that bound a lady's hair and refused to come undone, flexible and yet unyielding.

But there, that was where the imperfections lay. In that it shifted and changed. In that it adapted. In that it was human.

Surely no body else had noticed. Of course, humans are likely to ignore their own hidden flaws reflected back at them. Especially those flaws that some would consider strengths.

Sure, flexibility and adaptability was valuable to the human race, but a mask that changed so erratically was a mask that hardly did its job. Oh sure, it was beautiful, Fuji couldn't deny that. But such a mask did nothing to hide the truth from those who went through the trouble of searching for it.

Each change was linked to a corresponding change in the wearer. If she laughs this way, then she must be feeling this way. If she smiles this way, then she must be hurting this way. And if she frowns this way, then she must be hiding something.

It was truly a magnificent thing. Not a strong thing, but certainly an admirable attempt. Nobody that mattered had seen the mask for itself. Nobody at all had seen the wearer for herself, as she was behind it. A rare few even realized that the mask and the wearer were not the same at all.

Perhaps even the wearer was unaware that this beautiful veneer had attached itself to her being. Ah, but that was alright. If she didn't know yet, she'd find out soon enough.

Fuji was torn between watching from across the classroom as the beautiful mask crumbled under the inevitable stress, and actually doing something to help preserve the beauty that few could appreciate in the way he did.

In the end he could only wait and watch as bit by bit the mask slipped. It hadn't quite started to crack after all. The unbroken solidity of the mask remained. It was simply losing its elasticity. Hm, an interesting development. In Fuji's experience, masks were either stripped away or made to crumble. He'd never quite seen the kind of regenerative quality he found in this mask, where a couple deep breaths returned everything back to normal.

Not that Fuji would know much about the destruction of masks. His was always quite firmly in place. In fact, his was quite the forgiving mask. It didn't matter how suddenly he decided to remove it, it evidently returned with no trouble whatsoever. And through some magic the world still couldn't quite grasp that there was something wicked hidden behind his smiling face and good intentions.

Of course, he'd never let anyone know that part. It was quite the intricate mask, his was. One both physical and mental. The mask of smiles and cheerfully narrowed eyes, once taken down tricked the human mind into thinking that the layer beneath was all that there was left to be discovered. The good intentions he conveyed even through his vengeful actions, and the sincere open-eyed emotions he revealed at such times completely hid the truth.

Slips, perhaps, those emotions he'd revealed in such instances. But not once, not once did he let slip the true darkness that this second layer hid from view. Yes, quite the complex mask, his was. Layered and deceptive so that only he, who lived behind the walls of this illusion, knew the truth of what it hid.

Guilt. Hatred. Envy. Lust.

All the dark sides of humanity he could not show the world. No, not to this world that had been built on the deeds of his past and the words of others. If ever he revealed what he had firmly locked behind the walls of his mind, this world of his would shatter like fragile glass. And the shards would come falling down and cut him deeply. And anywhere he would walk after words would strike at him with the remains of his world, and no where, no where would there be a soul near enough or willing enough to walk across those shards to him; to reach out and help him rebuild what he had lost.

No, those people who were nearest him would be cut by the falling glass as well. And he couldn't allow that. He could never allow his loved ones to be hurt by anyone, and most of all not by himself. He would never forgive himself if the pain that struck his family and friends was caused by him.

And so he refused, absolutely refused to allow his mask to slip or crack or be torn away. He couldn't afford such a mistake. Especially not one so dangerous as that.

No, Fuji Syusuke had no experience in the loss of a mask.

He wouldn't survive such a travesty.

-

He didn't know why he was so captivated by that mask. It was flawed, of course, so it wasn't as if he wanted to learn from it. Nor was it that he was quite amused by the little things the slipping of the mask revealed. For some reason, he felt–

Guilty.

No, that was not quite the word. After all, why should he feel guilty about somebody else's mistakes? If she hadn't had the strength to maintain her little charade, then she shouldn't have tried it. In fact, if she hadn't the foresight to use a better mask, then none of this would have been a problem at all.

So obviously that was not it. He could not feel guilty for someone else's existence. It wasn't as if he'd had anything to do with her troubles anyway. His only connection to her was being in the same class for the past three years of Senior High. And if that was a crime, well then, they all deserved to be shot.

-

"Fuji-san," Fuji was surprised to find himself being addressed by the object of his speculations. "You've been spending your lunches in the classroom lately. Is something going on?"

"Not at all, Miyano-san. Our room is simply so quiet during lunch." Well, that wasn't quite the reason he was sitting there all alone, but she didn't have to know that.

"Ah, it is quiet, isn't it?" The words were spoken as if the speaker had only just realized it herself. "It's different from the other classes. Everybody in our class seems to like to visit other places for lunch."

Fuji couldn't help but think how this was true. Even the exuberant Eiji had taken to spending his lunches with Oishi or some other schoolmates nowadays. He hadn't realized that his so-called best friend hadn't been spending so much time with him anymore.

"Fuji-san's been quiet lately." He'd almost forgotten that she was standing there. "Even Eiji feels it and leaves Fuji alone."

Genuine surprise registered in Fuji's mind. He didn't even realize that his whole body had stiffened.

Was that true? Had he been more melancholy as of late that even Eiji had been driven to seek some other source of attention? He wasn't aware of any reason to have affected such a change.

"Fuji-san's been thinking too much."

Suddenly Fuji was annoyed at this girl. Who was she to be telling him ridiculous nonsense like that? Even more to his dismay, she leaned forward and looked at him at an angle.

"Even tensai are human. Don't go thinking you're better off than I am. Just you wait till it all falls to pieces. You have a choice: walk out of your self-devised trap graciously, or wait until the door slams shut, and you wish you could kick and scream your way out, only to find that you can't, because that would bring it all tumbling down."

"I'm sorry, Miyano-san," Fuji affected the most cheerful expression he could muster. "I don't know what you're talking about."

She scoffed, but instead of insisting otherwise, she straightened and looked down on him. "You play that game, Syusuke. It must be so boring though. It's not a challenge for a tensai to conquer the world, after all. It's not even that impressive. Too bad you can't play against yourself in a tennis match." She started to walk away, but stopped and looked back over her shoulder at him, flipping her hair in the process. "I just wanted to let you know that only those who've been through it will ever know what it feels like. So if you need something, I'll be around."

-

Fuji was frustrated. He wanted to hit something. She hadn't said a word about what he really was, but he felt she knew. Somehow she could see the darkness in his heart. The gall of that girl, to assume that she knew him. That she understood him! And then to look down on him and offer her help! As if he needed her!

Fuji fumed within the confines of the classroom; within the confines of his own mind. But then he smiled, bemused. There was no reason to be so upset. Wasn't she the one who was falling apart not too long ago? She really had no right to talk. After all, he was still standing, and she had already admitted defeat by talking to him. By letting him in on her little secret, she had admitted that she knew what it was like to have the world shatter around herself.

Then why, Fuji's smile faltered. Why did it unsettle him so?

-

You play that game, Syusuke.

For some reason, he couldn't help but listen to those words echoing back at him. Or rather, it was the words that had gone unsaid that bothered him the most. How much did she know? What would she do about it? Would she use it against him?

Even tensai are human.

Fuji was confused. He'd thought, surely that all the illusions that surrounded him, this tangled web of lies, would have protected him. Where had he gone wrong?

He was haunted by these thoughts. These thoughts that somebody had seen through him and could potentially tear down everything he had worked to maintain. He would see her there, talking with their classmates, laughing and smiling the same way she always did.

No, in a more genuine way. He couldn't tell for sure anymore, but she had changed. Whether or not she was still wearing her mask, or perhaps, more to the point, what the reactions of her mask meant, suddenly wasn't so easy to see. He'd thought he'd had her all figured out. But he'd been watching the mask for so long, he hadn't realized that the wearer and the mask possessed the same visage.

Now she would look at him with those knowing eyes and greet him with words that at face value held no malice. But he knew those words carried an undercurrent of threat. She knew him, she knew his secrets, and she wasn't about to let him forget it.

-

The classroom emptied once again. This time, however, Fuji didn't allow himself to be swept away by his thoughts.

She was cleaning the blackboard for the next class. She was always doing things like that. Little things that nobody else wanted to do. Things that nobody wanted to wait for somebody else to do.

And so of course they were alone. It seemed to him she must have planned it that way. But there was no way she could have planned what happened next.

He waited until she finished up the black board and put the eraser down. Then he cornered her by putting his hand on the board, his arm at eyelevel. She turned and almost walked into him, obviously startled. He leaned forward and smirked.

"Don't look so surprised. You knew I was still here didn't you?" He couldn't help but be amused at how she couldn't seem to decide what to do. It took her quite a bit just to look into his eyes.

"Fuji-san, what do you think you're doing?"

"Tsk, tsk. That was my line," he admonished her. "You've been up to something."

She raised an eyebrow, showing no regret for having been caught. "You seem to be imagining things, Fuji-san."

Fuji's heart skipped a beat. She's just said the words that he'd been thinking to himself. That perhaps he was going insane and simply imagining things. Surely this girl couldn't be out to get him like he thought. He hadn't done anything blatantly wrong, and especially not against her.

"No, I'm not imagining anything. It's you. You want something from me, don't you?"

Her eyes drifted over his shoulder in a far-off way before sliding back towards him. "You'd like to think that, wouldn't you? That I'm trying to blackmail you into something. That you've got something that I'd want so badly as to stoop to that level."

He felt his smirk slipping. He'd thought surely that must have been it, for her to be tormenting him this way.

"Have you figured it out yet?"

Fuji almost pulled away, but refused to give up his upper hand by letting her go.

"You're going insane, Syusuke. You think you have the upper hand, but do you really? Your family and friends aren't the only ones who've been fooled by that mask. Every time you look in the mirror –even you can't see your true self. You've surrounded yourself with illusions, Syusuke. So many illusions that even you can't tell what is real and what isn't anymore. Do I really want something from you? Or do you merely think of yourself as so high and mighty that there isn't anything that I can do for you?"

He was so caught by this revelation that he didn't even back away as she stepped closer to him. What could she possibly do for him? There was nothing he needed, nothing he wanted, just to go back to pretending that everything was at its natural state. That's all he really wanted. He didn't want to think about any of this anymore, just to go back to impressing the masses and laughing with his friends.

But that wasn't what would happen, was it? He'd already started to push his friends away. Something had been set into motion that he suddenly didn't have the ability to stop. They'd be going off to college soon. They'd be going separate ways. Things would never be the same again.

She leaned forward and murmured into his ear, "Stop thinking about them. What about yourself? Where are you going? What do you want to do with your life? Forget them for now. Figure out what you want first, then you can make arrangements with them."

For some reason, he couldn't quite reconcile himself to that suggestion. It wasn't as if his whole life revolved around his friends, but it wasn't as if he didn't want to be around them either. He was very reluctant to walk a different path than his friends.

But then, Fuji noticed something that had been staring him in the face for a long time. And the realization was like being dowsed by bucket of ice cold water. He hadn't really been pushing his friends away at all; they'd been pulled away by new interests.

Girls.

Fuji looked down at the girl he'd been watching almost obsessively for the past month or so. She'd stepped back to give him space to think, and now, looking into her eyes, he could not find an ounce of malice in them.

She seemed to be patiently waiting for something. Waiting for him to come to his senses and realize that he hadn't quite been doing anything wrong. Just that he hadn't quite been doing anything right either. He'd been sitting at his desk much too much, pondering things he couldn't change and ignoring things he could.

Somehow, he had been fooled by his own illusions. He'd spent so much time being the perfect son, the perfect student; he'd forgotten that there came a time when gently rejecting the girls who showered confessions and other such gifts on him was no longer necessary. Especially now that the tennis season was over, it was no longer necessary to concentrate all his efforts into school and tennis. Everybody else had started courting the girls that had previously been courting them, and suddenly Fuji was the only one who'd managed to avoid falling in love.

It seemed so absolutely tempting. This girl he had leaned up against the wall was so close. She was just standing there begging him to do something. No fear, no girly giggles, merely a set of knowing eyes and an eyebrow raised in challenge.

Fuji leaned forward and forgot all his inhibitions. All he could think now was how she didn't lean in to meet him with eagerness, but didn't try to hide in fear either. Then he forgot even those details as he brought his lips to meet hers.

He didn't care anymore.

Not about being caught. Not about not having asked permission. Not even about how she'd haunted his thoughts so much recently. All he knew was the sensation of her soft lips on his, and the way her eyes closed as she leaned into the kiss just enough to say she didn't mind, but not so much to repulse him.

He brought his arm down from the chalk board and placed his hand on her waist, using it to pull her closer. Then he brought it up to play with her hair as their kiss ended.

"I think I've figured it out now," he whispered into her ear.

She opened her eyes and looked at him askance. "Have you really? You've only been really thinking about it for such a short time. Have you figured it out? All of it?"

She was taunting him. This didn't upset him too much though. It only drove him to continue on this new path he'd set foot on. After all, it was true; he hadn't spent too much time exploring this new idea at all.

They kissed again. This time, she responded more readily. Or rather, more playfully. To Fuji's chagrin he realized that she was more experienced in this area than he was. But then, hadn't he already known that?

After all, hadn't he been watching her like a hawk for the duration of her deterioration into something recognizable, and yet completely different? She wasn't just some silly girl who'd been in over her head playing a game she wasn't skilled enough to play, she was a girl who'd apparently had more understanding of the game than he had assumed was possible.

As their lips parted this time, she offered a sly smile, stopping his lips with a finger when he would have tried for another kiss.

"No, you haven't quite got it. You think you do, but it's not that simple." She kissed her own finger where it lay on his lips before stepping back. Her finger caressed his lips as it slid away from him, taunting him, of course. Her eyes twinkled as she smiled. "You'll have to earn the next one, Syusuke."

- The only question is: can I write the next one?