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Summary
Rien never stops smiling.
It is not an overly wide smile, but something placid that sits upon his expression, curling the corners of his lips ever so slightly. Yoshihide has never once seen this smile falter.
She thinks that if she glances at him sidelong enough times, that she’ll catch him in the act, catch the second his mask slips, if only for a moment.
On the nature of smiles and emptiness.