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"Your mask is slipping".
Mahiru flinched at the words and the presence which suddenly appeared next to her, so she instinctively took a small step to the side.
If Nana was offended by the action, she didn't display it.
Her eyes were on the rest of the group whom had gathered that weekend for a reunion of sorts, the late evening encompassing the city in a soothing yet ominous autumnal atmosphere.
Mahiru didn't look up at Nana either but she addressed her, "I'm not wearing one".
"Not right now" Nana replied, a small smile forming, "Then again, you never do with me".
The last person Mahiru wanted to hear about keeping up appearances from was Daiba Nana.
There were a myriad of reasons Mahiru didn't want to attend, namely seeing Kaoruko and Claudine together.
But having to have Nana hovering around her like a voice filled with insincerity and malice was another reason why. The malcontent side of Nana was careful in her reappearance with the others, but Mahiru saw it often enough, was on the receiving end of it willingly.
Mahiru truly did not want to be here.
Despite this, because of how she felt about Claudine to this day, she managed to succumb to the blonde's plea to join then.
Glancing at Junna and Maya, Mahiru deliberated if this was the same for Nana.
However, the last she recalled, Junna and Nana had not ended on peaceful terms so she wondered what compelled Nana to attend, perhaps to sow some perturbation for the hell of it.
"You don't try to keep yours on anymore" Mahiru simply said, voice phlegmatic.
Nana's eyes hadn't looked away from Junna.
She seemed like a different person now, but just as motivated to succeed against all odds. There was glow which could not be dulled or tarnished by the hands of those who fought against change, of the idea of a future where growth occured.
Unlike herself, Maya urged Junna forward rather than holding her back.
"It's tiring".
Mahiru finally glanced up Nana, seeing the same vacuous expression she tended to wear these days.
It is flat, unassuming and shockingly honest.
It suited her better and she stated as much.
"You look better without it, Nana".
The blonde smirked at this, "Are you insulting me or complimenting me?" she asked, now looking down at Mahiru.
Gone was that forced smile, one which probably made Mahiru's face ache.
The ghost of the puppet that Mahiru used to be only watched on from the shadows, the stings connecting to her lips and eyes to force them into an expression of happiness now cut.
Nana saw a slither of contempt in Mahiru's smile, rejoicing in the way it looked on her too.
Anger and spite, jealous and loss, how Mahiru embodied those so perfectly.
"I don't think there is a difference" Mahiru replied, "What does it matter?".
It was a fact that Nana couldn't refute.
The abomination that was the ugliness of their motives which now lay bare in their hearts wouldn't be touched by the ones they desired.
"It ends the same way".
Whether it was the escapism they sought from each other, or the validation, Mahiru and Nana let the rotting masks they shed and rebuild tie them together.
Over and over and over.
They would say their goodbyes to the others, inject that faux happiness back into their tones, seem animated, alive.
Just for a moment longer before they left together, shrouded in the thicket of their noxious feelings for each other, a consolation prize and nothing more.
Mahiru followed Nana back to her apartment, almost on autopilot because if she was thinking, if she used her rationality, she would know to turn and run.
Before their hands marred each other, before Nana dug her claws in, before Mahiru bit down.
The draw to Nana would be severed once and for all, if only she was rational, if only the continuous loss of the things she wanted stopped, until life gave her something to hold onto.
All it ever spit back at Mahiru was Daiba Nana.
A poisonous lifeline which was woven around the two like a tattered and dismal string of fate, one which no longer resembled anything warm.
But just like Nana, Mahiru was tired.
It was easier to surrender to base desires than accept reality for what it was.
***
Nana's home was as lifeless as Mahiru recalled from the last time she was there, and it matched its owner accurately.
Somewhere between entering the home and finding purchase on the first solid surface that Nana could put her on, Mahiru looked around through the haze of her eyes as the cold window behind her pressed into her back.
It felt like someone had died here, the unnaturally frigid air that belonged something no longer human.
She brought up a handful of Nana's hair, wrapped it around her fist but not to pull her away from her neck, but keep her pressed in place.
That entity, the thing that was no longer human was Nana.
And Mahiru knew she was no better.
There is no light in the room, nor is there any in their eyes when they finally look at each other.
In the corners and crevices of desolate darkness did they thrive, but Mahiru preferred it this way.
Mahiru could touch Nana without needing to see her, could douse her hand in Nana's desire for someone else, much like Nana could do with her, at least physically.
Mentally, Mahiru was an enigma now.
The pause was too much for Nana who could no longer read Mahiru, so she kissed her, violent and unyielding.
It wasn't coordinated, the action was riddled with vulnerabilities that Nana wanted to keep buried, but Mahiru had already clawed her way through the mass of insecurity and self-loathing to reach it.
Each layer she pulled back even if it burned her and made her bleed, Mahiru took control of Nana's discordant existence.
A small victory for Mahiru at the expense of any warmth.
She bit Nana's lip, the taste metallic, fulfilling.
The blonde hair in her hand tightened like a leash, unrelenting, desperate, disastrous.
It was better this way, to endure this soulless moment of physical contact as a replacement for the masks they no longer had to wear.