Morning came the same way it always did.
Quiet.
Cold.
Unnoticed.
Ayinakoji opened his eyes.
He didn't stare at the ceiling this time.
He already knew the crack was there.
"…Twenty-two."
He said it anyway.
Then he sat up.
No hesitation.
No pause.
Today… felt different.
Not because anything had changed.
But because…
He had.
In the mirror, his reflection stared back at him.
Same face.
Same eyes.
Same expression.
Empty.
He tilted his head slightly.
Studying it.
"…This doesn't work."
His voice was calm.
He raised his hand.
Touched his face.
Then slowly…
He smiled.
It was small.
Careful.
Controlled.
"…Like this?"
The reflection smiled back.
It looked… normal.
Almost.
But his eyes didn't change.
They stayed the same.
Still.
Watching.
"…Good morning," he said to his reflection.
The smile stayed.
"…Yes."
He nodded slightly.
"…This will work."
In the kitchen, his parents were already there.
Same positions.
Same silence.
Ayinakoji stepped in.
"…Good morning."
But this time—
He smiled.
A small, polite smile.
His mother glanced at him.
Just for a second.
"…Morning," she said.
Ayinakoji blinked.
Just once.
"…It worked."
The thought came quietly.
His father didn't respond.
But that didn't matter.
One response…
Was more than before.
At school, the air still felt heavy.
The noise still felt distant.
But Ayinakoji walked differently.
Straighter.
Lighter.
Like he belonged.
A group of students stood near the entrance.
Talking.
Laughing.
Ayinakoji approached.
"…Good morning."
He smiled again.
The group paused.
One of them nodded slightly.
"…Morning."
Another small response.
Ayinakoji's smile didn't change.
"…It works."
In class, the teacher entered.
Lessons began.
Same as always.
But this time…
Ayinakoji raised his hand.
"…Yes?" the teacher said.
He answered clearly.
Calmly.
Correctly.
The teacher nodded.
"…Good."
A few students glanced at him.
"…Thank you."
The smile stayed.
During break, he tried again.
A student dropped their books.
Ayinakoji walked over immediately.
"…Let me help."
He picked them up carefully.
Handed them over.
Smiling.
"…Thanks," the student said.
Ayinakoji nodded.
"…You're welcome."
He walked away.
His chest felt… lighter.
Not warm.
But lighter.
"…So this is how it works."
Later, he sat near a group during lunch.
Not too close.
Not too far.
Just enough to be noticed.
They talked.
Laughed.
One of them looked at him.
"…You're Tempest, right?"
"…Yes."
He smiled again.
"…You're quiet."
"…I'm trying to change that."
A small laugh.
"…Good luck."
Not kind.
Not cruel.
Just… neutral.
Ayinakoji nodded.
"…Thank you."
Inside…
Something didn't match.
The words.
The smile.
The feeling.
They didn't connect.
But he ignored it.
Because…
It was working.
After school, the same boy approached him.
The one from before.
"…Hey."
Ayinakoji turned.
Smiled.
"…Yes?"
"…Can you help me again?"
A pause.
A very small pause.
Then—
"…Of course."
They sat together.
Ayinakoji explained everything again.
Clear.
Simple.
Perfect.
The boy leaned back.
"…Man, you're really useful."
Useful.
Ayinakoji nodded.
"…I'm glad."
"…Can I copy this part?" the boy asked.
The same question.
The same tone.
The same situation.
Ayinakoji looked at the paper.
Then at the boy.
Then—
He smiled.
"…Yes."
No hesitation this time.
No thinking.
Just…
Acceptance.
"…Thanks," the boy said, already writing.
Ayinakoji watched him.
Silently.
"…This is fine."
"…This is better."
Because now…
He knew the rules.
After they finished, the boy left without another word.
Ayinakoji stayed there.
Sitting.
Hands resting on the desk.
Smile still on his face.
Slowly…
Very slowly…
The smile faded.
His face returned to normal.
"…It doesn't feel different."
He stared at his hands.
"…But it works."
That was enough.
On the way home, the sky was pale.
The same stray cat sat on the wall.
Watching him.
Ayinakoji stopped.
He smiled.
"…Hello."
The cat didn't move.
It just stared.
Longer than usual.
Then—
It turned away.
And left.
The smile stayed on Ayinakoji's face.
Even after it was gone.
"…That's okay."
But this time…
The words felt different.
Not comforting.
Just… empty.
At home, he repeated it again.
"…I'm home."
Smile.
"…There's food," his mother said from the other room.
"…Thank you."
Another response.
Another success.
He sat down to eat.
Quietly.
The food tasted the same.
But he didn't react.
Didn't think about it.
Didn't feel anything about it.
That night, he returned to his room.
Sat on the bed.
Looked up.
The crack waited.
"…Twenty-two."
He lay down slowly.
Eyes open.
"…Smiling works."
A pause.
"…Helping works."
Another pause.
"…Being useful works."
Silence.
"…Feeling…"
The word stopped.
Didn't finish.
He stared at the ceiling.
"…isn't necessary."
The room felt colder.
But he didn't notice.
Because now…
He had something better.
A mask.
And behind it…
Something quiet…
Was slowly disappearing.