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The first rule of lying was that you had to build from a grain of truth.
Omission, exaggeration, whatever the lie was, it had to have some basis in reality. Otherwise everyone would see right through it.
He never told lies outright. His insides twisted when he tried.
Sometimes, though, he felt like he did.
"Minamoto-kun!" One of his classmates ran up to him, holding a small stack of papers in her hand. She leaned against her locker and gave a shy smile. "Here are the Student Council forms you needed."
Teru took them, pretending not to notice how she brushed her hand against his. "Ah, thank you." He imagined a mask being molded to his face, and felt his lips automatically curve into a smile. Yes, that was better.
The girl blushed. Why? That wasn't even his real face she was seeing. If she saw him staring down a supernatural, she wouldn't be so enamored.
He could never treat humans the way he treated supernaturals. He would never allow himself to.
She started nervously curling her hair around her finger. "Minamoto-kun..." Here it comes. "Do you think this weekend, we could go out somewhere? Just the two of us?"
Teru let himself sigh, his features dropping into a sympathetic expression. "I'm sorry, but I'm busy."
The girl's face fell. "Oh. Okay. Do you already have plans with someone?"
She was clearly jumping to conclusions. Everyone knew he was single. The most eligible bachelor of Kamome Academy, Minamoto Teru. He wished he was allowed to laugh. "I have responsibilities. There's no girl."
No girl. He ticked off a box in his mind. Not a lie.
Her eyes widened. "That's a lot of work! I'm sorry."
Teru waved it off, the smile plastered back on his face. "Don't be."
He could tell that the girl wanted to ask something. He waited patiently for her to break past her fear. But never his defenses. Those stayed up.
"Minamoto-kun, why are you always so busy on weekends?"
A battering ram crashed against his internal walls. The warriors inside scrambled around, armed with spears and swords and bows and the knowledge that he couldn't let anyone know.
What would they say if they knew their nightmares were real? That even in rain and sleet and snow, and when Teru was burning up with feverish energy and could barely stand, he faced off against monsters that could snuff out a human with as much ease as stepping on an ant?
There would be mass panic. Mass deaths. Everything would change.
If there was one thing Teru was good at, it was keeping things the same. By any means necessary.
He let out a chuckle. "This and that. Student council duties. I also have a part time job."
The girl beamed approvingly. "You're so reliable, Minamoto-kun! See you tomorrow in class!" She skipped off, a bounce in her step.
As Teru bid the girl goodbye, he realized he didn't know her name. And he didn't care to.
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When Teru was eight, he told a boy in his class that he was an exorcist.
The boy's name was Yamada Jun, and his eyes sparkled in just the right way when sunlight hit them. His hair was soft, or Teru thought it would be if he tugged on it like Jun did to the most popular girl in class.
The next day, everyone snickered at him, hid their faces behind their hands while spitting vitriol. The teacher tried to tell them off, which stopped them for a few days, but then the taunts came back with full force.
He tried to talk to Jun. The other boy laughed at him. "It's your own fault for being dumb enough to believe it!"
He went home. He went to his mom sobbing, just wanting to be told that everything would be okay. She scolded him for giving away the family secret.
He went back to school. He brushed it all off. They prodded him for more things to make fun of, more targets. He didn't say a word.
He went home. His mom asked him about his day. He gave short, smiling answers. Nothing relevant to what she actually wanted to know.
In his room, he let himself cry. A few silent tears that dripped onto his pillow, soaked up immediately and evaporated like they were never there.
I can't tell. I can't let them know. Ever.
Those words latched onto his heart, etching onto the arteries. All those years later, they're still carved deep.
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Aoi looked at him as he walked into the student council room. "You're late, President."
Teru felt a smile spread across his face. He didn't suppress it at much as he should. "Oh? My mistake. I was taking the forms for the day." He set the papers down on the table.
The other boy raised an eyebrow. "Another confession? So popular." Teru almost didn't catch his next muttered words. "I can't imagine why."
"Isn't it obvious?" Teru ran his fingers over his bracelet. He didn't miss the way Aoi flinched. Ah. He supposed not. "Well, let me put it to you this way. Why do so many people confess to your childhood friend?"
He didn't like referring to her by name. It was Aoi's name too. Maybe it was petty of him, but he didn't care.
Aoi slumped over, a dark expression on his face. He began muttering obscenities towards those terrible people who would try to take advantage of Ao-chan's kindness, she was too good for them. He went quiet for a second, obviously mulling something over, then he straightened up again with a terrifyingly cheerful expression on his face. "Because Ao-chan is perfect, of course!"
Perfect? Funny, that's what people said about Teru.
He said as much to Aoi, who just made a small noise of disgust. "They don't know you that well, then. You're far from perfect, President Minamoto."
Teru absentmindedly removed his bracelet. Was Aoi the first person to see that? Interesting.
Aoi shrieked and dived down, cowering under the desk. Why...?
Oh. The bracelet.
He didn't want to hurt Aoi, even though the other boy was a supernatural. But he had a duty to fulfill.
He had an image to maintain.
"Son of a..." Aoi emerged from under the table, holding the back of his head. He must have banged it against the wood when Teru tied him up. "This is fun to you, isn't it?"
Teru pictured a serene smile in his mind, then copied it onto his face. His fingers were still twitching from where the bracelet had touched. He hummed what would hopefully be taken as assent.
He didn't particularly care for the look of pain on the other boy's face. But when he imagined him as a supernatural, as a scourge that he had been trained to fight against, something that his whole live revolved around, it was almost bearable.
Besides, as long as Aoi kept reacting to him, it didn't matter what he had to do. He was here, seeing the closest to reality that Teru could ever be. And that was enough.
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"I like Akane-san"
The truest thing he'd said in years. But in a way, it was still a lie.
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