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Tearing Off Their Masks
Translated by HamletJr
Edited by
“―Someone’s appeared on the stage?!”
“Hey! Cut the crap! Just start alre―”
When the audience caught sight of us, their angry shouts suddenly came to a stop.
Paying no heed to our surroundings, each of us just took our respective instruments and assumed our positions on stage.
The venue was completely silent.
“O-Oi
 Isn’t that Personia?”
“No no, they can’t possibly be at an idol concert like this
 We’re talking about the legendary band, Personia, you know?”
“O-Oh
 So they’re just nobodies in costumes. We won’t be fooled by something like this! Hurry up and get Synchronicity on stage!”
The angry shouts that had temporarily turned into quiet murmurs at our appearance had been reignited once more.
Each of us began fine-tuning our instruments, playing light sounds every once in a while.
The first one to signal their readiness was our muscular pianist who wore a tank top and a paper bag, Xenon
Next was our drummer who wore a jack-o-lantern mask and a cape, Xina.
After her was our business-suited, horse-headed guitarist, Xylem.
And almost immediately following Xylem was our bass player who wore a party dress and a fox mask, Xerena.
―And finally, wearing a black jacket over a white shirt was me, Xion, our vocalist. After checking that everybody was ready, I made a gesture to Xina.
Namely, the gesture to “start.”
“One, two. One, two, three.”
Xina began striking her sticks together, establishing the beat and rhythm of the song as Xylem’s electric guitar echoed powerfully.
Xenon’s delicate piano melody followed soon after, and Serena’s heavy bass harmonized the entire ensemble as we started playing the song.
As expected.
Even though we hadn’t rehearsed for this or anything, the hundreds of times we had practiced and gained experience didn’t let us down.
Hearing us play Personia’s “actual music,” the audience gradually began to stir up a commotion.
It can’t be. Personia can’t possibly be in a place like this.
I was going to destroy this mask of common sense that the audience was hiding behind with my voice.
A voice that no one else can imitate.
I began singing in a high tone voice that was known to be one that only I, Shion, could produce.
A uniquely powerful yet delicate voice.
This is proof more than anything that shows I am Shion.
This was the moment the audience’s hopes and beliefs turned into conviction.
A huge cheer went up, and people raised their arms and started calling out my name.
““Shi~on! Shi~on!””
Everybody forgot about their anger and laid themselves bare.
Humans are funny like this.
They live their lives putting masks on themselves.
They wear heavy, depressing masks.
But when they hear our music, they remember.
They aren’t superficial personas made for other people.
They should delight in their true selves.