Play it safe. Push people away. Don't take risks. Don't try hard. Keep your standards low. Those things are to guarantee you an easy life. But there was one time. One time you mindlessly broke that rule. You had broken one of the biggest rules in your book. And oh how bad you broke it. Don't fall in love. Ayame Yamamoto lives a not-so-ordinary life, and it gets even crazier when she meets the Karasuno's volleyball club. {Various x OC} May contain manga spoilers and profanity. I do not claim the cover art, credits to the respective artist.

When Haruhi opened the door, there was the Ouran High School Host Club, and . . . A blue haired guy on a pillar holding a bucket of rose petals, flashlight, and string before slowly sliding down with a blank face and a greeting of, "Hello mortal." [No romance, pure friendship fic]

It's horrible to don a mask. Most wear some kind of mask in their life--and for the most part, they're never of the best quality. All they cause is useless self-destruction and pain, but the good thing about them is that they can hide some ugly part of you that you don't want to show to the world. They're always a step down from what you think they'd be, always a notch lower than expectations, and always a lie to hide from the reality around us. ...of course, there are those that can see through those masks too, and it's supposed that Arceus created these humans to keep the world's sanity. That's all Avis wishes for, because it's nearly impossible to find any semblance of peace in this midst of war and chaos. To him, that's staying alone; staying out of others' business, and for the first seventeen years of his life, he's done that pretty well. § Avis can only hide in the shadow of his twin brother's strength, stranded in a country ravaged by war and destruction--and he tries to live his life in the darkness peacefully. He doesn't need to be noticed by everyone. The illusion of a functional, ideal life, however, is shattered when his family's balance is destroyed, and he thus dons his first mask. § For all his life, Avis had been taught that disaster was bad. For the most part, he's believed that much--he only needs to think of ungraceful piles of debris and blood-caked grounds to be convinced of that. At eighteen, he finds himself starting to doubt it--just a little. He can hate disaster for tearing his life to pieces, but he can't quite hate it for granting him something better than a miracle. § Tonight, these children don their masks.