Work Text:
"You're here again." Oshima says, a kind smile adorning his lips. "It's been a long time."
"Yeah. It's nice to see you." I return the smile, to the best of my ability. At least, I think I'm smiling, and I hope the effort is enough.
"Likewise. I suppose the reason you're here is not quite so pleasant, though."
He's as sharp as ever. It's comforting and distressing at the same time, being read in such way that I don't have to bring it up myself.
"Maybe I just felt like seeing an old friend," I try, in vain, to delay the inevitable. Part of me also feels guilty for relying on him like this every time I end up here. It's not intentional. I'm drawn to the library in my most vulnerable moments, whenever I'm lost, perhaps instinctively trying to find myself in one of the neatly organized bookshelves.
Oshima probably senses my uneasiness, but he doesn't laugh along, nor directly calls me out on my bullshit.
"You know, before I started working here, I used to come regularly too. Miss Saeki eventually took notice of me and we had many long conversations. I didn't even have to say much for her to be able to look beneath the surface and peer into my core. Me, though? No matter how deep I dug, I could barely get past her barriers."
"Were you disappointed?"
He scratches his chin, pensive. "I was sorry. And probably frustrated. Those barriers... I suspected it wasn't something she wanted to put up, but that she had to, in order to protect everyone else. She thought of her heart as Pandora's box. I thought, how lonely must that be... no matter how guarded one is, all everyone ever ultimately wishes for is to be seen. For their ugly parts to be witnessed and regarded as worthy of love, regardless."
A dull ache throbs in my chest, words like blades carving a deep wound into my tender heart.
"Even you," I say.
"Even me," Oshima nods, his usually unfaltering serenity clearing up like fog after a rainy day, exposing the vulnerable hope held in his revelation, the gentle plea to be acknowledged.
He was giving me permission to be selfish, too.
I smile, sincerely this time. "You're kind," I start, "I'm not as good with words as you are, but... Thanks. I like listening to you."
Oshima returns the smile, the heavy atmosphere dissipating some.
"Almost as much as I like making you sit through my endless ramblings."
This time he does laugh, which gives me a tinge of pride.
"Well, then, I won't dare stop you."
I hum. As always, words don't come easy to me. They float aimlessly in my head like alphabet soup instead of the seamlessly woven, intricate prose that flows like a river every time Oshima opens his mouth. "I think... I don't know who I am anymore. It sounds cliché, doesn't it? But I've worn so many masks over the years. I've played so many parts... I lost track of who the real me was. I was too focused on what had to be done instead. And as soon as I slowed down... I crumbled. I see myself through the opinions of others, who they need me to be. It's almost like I need that to exist..."
"Like if you take off that mask, you're afraid nothing will be underneath."
He is strikingly on point. I raise my brows, though I shouldn't be surprised at this point. "Exactly..."
"I had to wear a mask myself my whole childhood. For the sake of my family, I told myself. They would have been far happier if I kept wearing dresses and long hair, so I convinced myself I'd be happy that way too. Truth was, it was a comfort zone of sorts... I knew how to play that part already. But if I discarded that and took my own identity instead, I'd be on my own. And what if I wasn't enough? What if I was left with nothing?"
"What made you decide to do it anyways?"
"Well... when you wear a mask for too long, it starts wearing you instead. I realized that if I didn't take that leap, I would be done for anyways. I started thinking it'd be scarier to stay where I was for the rest of my life," he explained. "Don't get me wrong, it was hard, the hardest thing I've ever done. I wavered and doubted myself a lot, but... after passing that storm, my real face started to show up. And then others could see it, too, almost as if they were seeing me for the first time. 《Ah, of course, that was him all along》"
I bring my knees closer to my chest and rest my chin there, feeling small yet hopeful, for the first time in ages. "I wish it was easier..."
"Me too..." He places a gentle hand on my shoulder. "But even if you searched this whole library, I doubt you'll find a satisfying story that doesn't involve conflict. That's the case for all things worth fighting for."
"You're right..." I sigh, a faint smile settling on my lips. "And if all else fails, at least it'll be a great tragedy."
He huffs, amused. "That's one way to look at it."