The Truth Beneath the Mask

A few nights later, the clock hands had already slid past ten. Fūki Ran was preparing to rest when a hurried, faint knock sounded at his door. It was less a knock and more a delicate scraping sound of fingernails against the door panel. He opened it to find Kushida Kikyo standing outside, her face pale, her eyes unfocused, like an empty shell drained of its soul.

She said nothing, only gazing at him with her water-filled eyes, her lips trembling slightly. Fūki stepped aside to let her in, and as she passed, he could clearly feel her body shiver.

The moment the door closed, Kushida slumped against it like a puppet whose strings had been cut, sliding slowly to the floor. She buried her face in her knees, her shoulders beginning to shake uncontrollably.

"I can't take it anymore... I really can't take it anymore..." her voice came from between her knees, muffled and choked with sobs of despair. "All day today, I had to smile at those spreading rumors, pretend I knew nothing, and even agree and nod along... I even had to comfort Karuizawa, who was troubled by the rumors..."

Fūki silently crouched in front of her, not interrupting her outburst.

"Why... why are there always things like this in our class?" she looked up, her eyes teary as she gazed at Fūki. The face that always wore a perfect smile was now etched with pain and confusion. "I know the truth, but I have to pretend ignorance and play along with those who maliciously slander others..."

Her voice grew louder, bordering on hysterical. "I hate this version of myself! I hate this self that always wears a mask! I hate those who sell out their companions for points! And I hate this situation where I'm forced to play along with them!"

Kushida suddenly grabbed Fūki's sleeve, her knuckles turning white from the force. "Fūki, tell me, is there any point in me pretending like this, enduring like this? Or will I just become more and more hypocritical in the process, until I don't even recognize myself anymore?"

This was her deepest fear—losing herself completely while trying to protect others.

Fūki didn't pull away, letting her grip his sleeve. His gaze was calm and deep, like a steady lighthouse in a storm.

"Temporarily wearing a mask to protect something important doesn't mean you've lost yourself," his voice was low and steady, each word carrying a heavy weight. "On the contrary, it proves you have the will and the strength to choose what role to 'play.' True hypocrisy is deceiving oneself. But you know very well what you're doing and why you're doing it."

Kushida's sobs gradually subsided, but her shoulders still trembled slightly.

"But... it's really tiring..." her voice became weak, tinged with a child-like grievance. "I've always been trying to make everyone like me, to keep the class harmonious... but why, why do people always have to ruin it..."

Just then, she seemed to have finally exhausted her last bit of strength and leaned forward. Fūki reached out in time, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. This time, Kushida didn't resist, instead burying her face deeply into his shoulder and bursting into tears.

Unlike her previous dramatic, performative crying, these tears were real and scalding. Her tears quickly soaked Fūki's shirt, each drop carrying the accumulated grievances, exhaustion, and confusion of these past days.

Fūki remained silent, gently patting her back as if comforting a frightened child. He could feel her body trembling and hear her choked sobs from deep within her throat. In this moment, she was no longer the smooth-talking Kushida Kikyo, but simply a Maiden burdened by too much pressure.

"I'm sorry..." after an unknown amount of time, Kushida's crying gradually subsided. She was still leaning on Fūki's shoulder, her voice hoarse from crying. "I lost my composure again..."

"Emotions need an outlet," Fūki's tone was still calm. "Suppressing them for too long will do more harm than good."

Kushida slowly sat up, wiping her swollen eyes with the back of her hand. Her makeup was smudged, but she appeared remarkably real at this moment.

"Sometimes I wonder," she said softly, her gaze fixed on a point in the void, "what I would be like if I hadn't met Fūki. Perhaps I'd still be deceiving everyone with that mask, including myself."

A bitter curve touched her lips. "But now, at least in front of you, I can temporarily be my true self. Even if this true self... is so pathetic."

Fūki looked at her, seeing a defenseless vulnerability in her eyes for the first time. This vulnerability wasn't weakness, but a genuine outpouring after prolonged suppression.

"Remember, Kushida," his voice was soft but carried an undeniable power. "The path you've chosen, though difficult, is by no means wrong. You are protecting the class in your own way, and that resolve in itself is worthy of respect."

Kushida stared at him blankly, the confusion in her eyes gradually fading, replaced by a growing clarity and determination. She took a deep breath, as if making a decision.

"I understand," she stood up. Though her eyes were still red and swollen, her back was straight again. "I will continue on this path. But..." she paused, a faint, genuine smile appearing on her face. "If I feel like crying again in the future, can I come find you?"

"Anytime," Fūki's reply was simple and firm.

This release was different from the emotional breakdown last time; it was more like an inner tempering. When she put on her sunny, friendly mask again, it would no longer be supported by fear and a desire to please, but by a clearer will and determination.

Before leaving the room, Kushida looked back at Fūki and said softly, "Thank you, Fūki. Thank you... for being willing to accept the real me."

The door closed gently, and silence returned to the room. Fūki stood in place, the dampness of tears still lingering on his shoulder. He knew that tonight, Kushida had taken another step closer to her true self. And though this process was painful, it was a necessary growing pain.