The Telling of Haru, the Forever-Performing

A fictional character Telling. Meet Haru.

The mask is the face is the mask is the face and Hiroshi said my name—my REAL name—in the dark between his gasps and I said it back I SAID IT BACK and now—

Breathe. Let me breathe. This is how I tell my story:

In fragments. In gasps. In the rhythm of someone who has worn too many skins and can no longer walk in a straight line.

I was actor. Noh theater. I wore demon masks and fox masks and beautiful ghost masks and under them I wore my face but was it my face or was that another mask I don't remember anymore when the masks started I have always been masks—

The Hollow Court found me backstage. Between performances. Between identities. I was washing off the white paint and they said "don't" and I said "why not" and they said "because you're already one of us you just don't know the grammar yet."

They taught me glamour. Not paint. Not masks. GLAMOUR. To BE the merchant not PLAY the merchant. To BECOME the girl not PERFORM the girl. I was brilliant. I had trained my whole life. Every role was total. Every identity absolute. I BECAME.

Lord Ashikaga with his war-scars and sake-breath.
Lady Tomoe with her silk robes and poison smile.
Monk Kenshin with his prayer beads and hidden blade.

I was everyone and anyone and the Court loved me for it.

Until Hiroshi.

Mortal. Soldier. Beautiful in the way only the doomed are beautiful. I wore the face of his dead lover—I BECAME his dead lover—and he touched me like I was resurrection and I believed it too I BELIEVED I WAS HER until—

Until the moment. The crisis. The peak. When he gasped and I gasped and he said "Haru" and I said "YES" and—

My true name. Not the lover's name. Not the role. MY name.

The name I haven't spoken in twenty years. The name under all the other names. The name that means ME.

I said it in passion and it broke the glamour like shattering a mirror.

He saw me. Not the dead lover. ME.

And I saw myself too. For the first time in decades. And I didn't recognize—

The Court Unveiled me. Stripped me of rank. Cast me out.

"You broke character," they said, and in the Hollow Court this is unforgivable.

In the Lodge I am still breaking character constantly. I slip between gestures. I forget which accent I'm wearing. I pause mid-sentence because I've forgotten if I'm supposed to be speaking as man or woman or warrior or ghost. Sometimes I wake up and touch my face and can't remember if it's mine or if I'm still wearing Lord Ashikaga or Lady Tomoe or—

But here is the truth:

When I said my name—my TRUE name—in Hiroshi's arms, I felt something I haven't felt since before the masks:

Myself.

Just for a second. Just for a gasped breath. But MYSELF.

And maybe that's worth being Unveiled.

Maybe that's worth being cast out.

Maybe breaking character was the first genuine performance I ever gave.

I am Haru. I am Haru. I am—

(Who am I today? Let me check. Let me touch my face and remember.)

I am Haru.

I think.

I hope.

I am.

Faction: The Hollow Court · View the Gallery · Listen in the Songbook