Krisalyn Satriya

Her fingers twitch, lightly caressing the white mask that she grips tightly. This time her class will win the Halloween festival. They have to, because she has to. She has to be first, in everything, otherwise they won’t accept her. 

The edge of the mask scrapes Calypso’s nose as she places it on her face. Her class chose a Shakespeare play as an event, and each mask was vital to a role. Hers is hauntingly serene, two twin voids and an upturned grin on the glossy unblemished surface.

She inhales deeply, trying to plaster the easy smile on her expression. Maybe trying to be as pleasantly indifferent as her mask. She’s a bit too focused on this, and hardly notices the figure that tumbles out of the bushes to ram into her. 

Oh, sorry about that.

Calypso’s head snaps up. 

She’s annoyed, but this is not a big deal, so she dusts herself off and stands, maintaining an expression chillingly polite. “It’s alright,” she begins, but —

— Maybe you should watch where you’re going next time,” the girl says, laughing slightly. 

She’s infuriating. Calypso smiles wider. She notices that the girl is ironically dressed as an angel, glowing and unreachable in her own bubble. She turns to walk away, when she remembers the mask that was in her hand. 

Her heart nearly drops to her stomach when she sees it lying on the ground. 

A single fracture line running down the nose, like a reopened scar. 

The girl watches in mild interest as Calypso’s mouth opens and closes again and again in an attempt to formulate a coherent phrase. 

Was that your mask? Huh, shame. Sorry.” 

Calypso whirls around, but the girl’s eyes startle her for a second. Glassy and hard. Like jade. The spell only lasts a moment, but when it’s over she’s come to her senses. Her lips twitch as she forces them up higher. “It’s fine, it really wasn’t worth that much anyways.” 

The girl shrugs. “Is that so? Well, I guess I can see that. It’s kinda scary looking. But I guess that was the point? No? Oops. I won’t take it back though. Just speaking the truth, you know —” 

Can you please shut up?” Calypso snarls. “You’re pissing me off —” 

Wow, you finally showed up, huh. Calypso.” 



What is that supposed to mean,” Calypso says. She really wants to punch this girl, even though she knows she shouldn’t. 

You look prettier without it, you know.


The girl tilts her head, unfazed. Calypso catches the strange glint in the girl’s eyes again. She blinks, and upon her face are two shifting meadows slit with silvered sunlight. Colors pour in through the age-streaked windows and flush the walls with a striking green. 

She blinks again, and it’s gone. 

I’m just saying it’s good to take that mask off sometimes,” the girl scoffs. “By the way, I’m Jiyuu. I guess I’ll see you, Calypso.” 

The girl turns, walking off still wrapped in that radiant bubble that belonged to herself. Calypso thinks she looks a bit majestic, mystical even —

But she can’t focus on that now. 

Calypso bends down to pick up the mask. It was smudged with dirt and grime. Not to mention the all-too-conspicuous crack in the dead center. 

She examines it.

Then she places it back on her face. It can be fixed.