tears of mercury | beastars

chapter 20. THE MASK WE SEEM TO WEAR

𖤣𖥧.𖤣𖥧𓆏𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
━━━━━━━━━━━

The rooftop garden was quiet, save for the gentle rustle of leaves swaying in the afternoon breeze. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the weathered tiles and illuminating the lush greenery with a soft golden glow.

(Name) sat on the edge of the planter box, her gaze fixed on the horizon. In the distance, Cherryton Academy's iconic clock tower stood tall against the backdrop of a cloudless sky, its hands steadily ticking toward the end of another day.

She had found herself retreating here more often lately, avoiding the familiar faces of the club members. It wasn't that she didn't love the club—far from it. But stepping onto the stage again had reopened old wounds she thought had long healed.

The third-years in the Drama Club understood her hesitance, especially Louis. They knew her history, how she had once avoided the stage entirely, terrified of what it meant to stand under the glaring spotlight. But a part of her had always been drawn to it, like a moth to a flame.

For her, acting was both a liberation and a perilous gamble.

To step onto the stage was to become someone else entirely, to slip into the skin of a character so convincingly that the lines between reality and fiction blurred. It was exhilarating, intoxicating even. But when the mask of the character began to slip, when she could no longer tell where the role ended and she began, it became dangerous.

Back when her older brother was alive, he had always known the right words to ground her. His voice, steady and reassuring, would pull her back from the brink, reminding her of who she was beneath the façade. But now, without him, the stage felt like a double-edged sword—offering freedom on one side and the threat of losing herself on the other.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her name being called.

"(Name)?"

She turned her head, startled out of her reverie. Standing at the entrance to the rooftop garden was Haru. Her snow-white fur seemed to glow in the sunlight, and her large, inquisitive eyes were fixed on (Name) with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

Haru made her way over, her small frame somehow commanding attention despite her size. She climbed onto the planter box and settled beside (Name), her legs dangling over the edge.

"You've been sitting up here a lot these past few days," Haru began, her tone light but probing. "Is everything okay?"

(Name) hesitated, her fingers idly tracing patterns on the fabric of her skirt. "I'm fine," she replied, her voice steady but distant. "I just. . . wanted to be somewhere different for a while.”

Haru tilted her head, studying her carefully. There was a pause, the silence between them broken only by the distant chirping of birds.

" I caught a glimpse of your performance the other day," Haru said suddenly, her voice carrying a note of admiration. "You were incredible. Just like when I saw you perform in your first year!"

The compliment made (Name) tense ever so slightly, though she tried to hide it. Her hands clenched briefly before she forced herself to relax. She turned to Haru, offering a small, polite smile. "Thank you." she said quietly.

Another pause. This one stretched longer, the weight of unspoken thoughts hanging in the air.

"So. . . What does it feel like?" Haru asked, breaking the silence. Her voice was soft, almost hesitant, as if she wasn't sure she should be asking. "To be up there on stage, I mean. To be an actor."

The question caught (Name) off guard. She turned her gaze back to the horizon, her expression thoughtful. "It's beautiful," she said after a moment, her words slow and deliberate. "It's like you have this incredible freedom to be anyone, to do anything. You can step outside yourself and explore parts of you that you didn't even know existed."

Haru listened intently, her ears twitching as she absorbed every word.

"But," (Name) continued, her voice growing quieter, "it's also dangerous. That freedom can become a trap if you're not careful. It's easy to lose yourself in it, to forget where the character ends and you begin. And once you lose that line, it's hard to find your way back."

Haru's gaze didn't waver.

She shifted slightly, turning to face (Name) more directly. "That's what it feels like for you as an actor," she said. "But what about you? What do you feel when you're on stage?"

The question hung in the air, heavy and piercing. (Name) turned to Haru, meeting her wide-eyed gaze. For a moment, she didn't know how to respond.

Her mind raced with memories of the stage—the rush of adrenaline as the spotlight hit her, the weight of the audience's gaze, the way her heart felt like it was both soaring and being squeezed at the same time. She thought about the moments when the character she portrayed felt more real than her own self, and the fear that came with it. But she couldn't find the words to express any of it.

Instead, she offered Haru a small, knowing smile.

Haru studied her for a moment longer before letting it go, as if understanding something unspoken. She leaned back slightly, her ears twitching as she turned her gaze to the horizon.

The two of them sat in silence after that, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the rooftop garden. It was a comfortable silence, filled with unspoken thoughts and shared understanding.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the world in hues of orange and pink, (Name) felt a small sense of peace settle over her. She didn't have all the answers, and maybe she never would. But for now, sitting here with Haru, the weight of her thoughts felt a little lighter.

And in that moment, it was enough.

✅ EDITED