Dark secrets ~ Rengoku x reader

𝑩𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒌

**Y/n's POV**

The room within the infinity castle was both comforting and suffocating, a space filled with memories that both haunted and healed. As my mother and father guided me to my room, I couldn't help but feel the weight of the night pressing down on me, a night that had shaken the very foundation of my existence.

The door closed behind us, and I found myself surrounded by the familiar, soothing ambiance of my room. Yet, even within this sanctuary, I couldn't escape the deluge of emotions that surged within me. The memories of my past, of pleas and decisions that had irrevocably shaped my present, flooded back with a painful intensity.

As I lay down in my bed, the surface cold against my heated skin, a wave of sadness washed over me. The past and the present intertwined, a dance of emotions that felt as raw as the wounds I had sustained in battle. I closed my eyes, images of moments shared with my father flashing before me, and I remembered the desperation in my voice as I had begged him to turn me into a demon.

"Why won't Dad just let me become a demon?" The words escaped my lips in a whisper, heavy with a sorrow that had simmered beneath the surface for years. The room seemed to echo my question, and for a moment, it felt like the walls themselves held the weight of my unspoken longing.

As the room grew silent, I continued to speak, the words pouring out in a torrent of emotion. "Because now I realize something... What if me and my new friends run into you, or Uncle Gyokko, or Akaza, or Doma? What if I have to fight you, to hurt you? I love you all so much." The confession hung in the air, a painful truth that I had grappled with for so long.

Tears began to well in my eyes as I struggled to articulate the tangled emotions within me. "But then again, I love Rengoku, too. And I know eventually my secret will come out. I can't help but wonder if he'd hate me because of what I am. I couldn't live with myself if I hurt any of you or my new friends," I managed to say through sobs that shook my frame.

My mother, a comforting presence at my side, listened without interrupting, allowing me to pour out the torrent of feelings that had been suppressed for far too long. With her, I felt safe to expose the vulnerabilities that I usually concealed beneath my mask.

As I spoke, my tears began to ebb, exhaustion taking over. The emotional tumult of the night had taken its toll, and my body felt heavy, a weariness that mirrored the intensity of my feelings. The room, once a battlefield of emotions, began to lose its sharp edges, and a sense of tranquility settled over me.

My mother's soothing presence remained as a constant anchor, and as the night wore on, I found myself surrendering to sleep's embrace. The tears and the turmoil of the night faded into the background, replaced by dreams that were as elusive as they were surreal. As I drifted into slumber, I held onto the comforting thought that, for a moment, the mask I wore both physically and emotionally had been lifted, allowing the raw truth of my heart to be revealed in the presence of the one who understood me best.