What Makes an Individual?

Galvanized

Minako was seething pink, orange and tear-your-heart-out scarlet, and she saw the world in three bars: Academics; Charm and Courage.

As simple as the layout would be for most people, her effort into those three aspects was fist-curling; blood-nailed. Focusing down Academics meant shoving her face head-down into books with teeth-gritted enthusiasm – even if that enthusiasm was fake. Courage meant brushing off the unexpected, and thrusting herself into the dark abyss of Tartarus night.

And, her Bewitching Charm meant taking every word and dagger glare and letting it all glance off Minako's armour – hell, even use those against those who'd wish her harm.

If there was one thing she knew, besides her Genius intellect and Badass Courage, it was that her wit couldn't just deflect. She had to build walls and weapons to defend herself from the piercing insults and bad-mouthing behind her back. Rising to the top of the social ladder wasn't enough. She had to stomp everyone else back down. She had to lure everyone to her side with the call of her soul-striking voice and looks.

Today, she strode down the school corridors with an unbridled confidence so powerful, it was head-turning. Everyone talked about her, for better or for worse. Guys, for the most part, swooned; girls, for the most part, lashed out with venomous hate and stares. Yet, Minako took the situation all in stride.

In the beginning, she'd considered being frightened off by her apparent competition – she just wanted to spend time with Akihiko, so was there really anything wrong with that? – but once Minako had that idea set in mind, she knew she had to dig her heels in and press the fear deep down.

It was her modus operandi for most situations, actually.

She found Akihiko at his usual spot, blazer slung over his shoulder as he pointedly ignored the fangirls' giggles and fixated looks. As much as Akihiko might have the heart to call them more like faceless mobs, Minako knew better than that.

A twisted empathy mixed with disdain had taken shape in Minako from listening to the same tirades and glares being shot at her. So, she stared them back, teeth clenched, knuckles white as she tried to rein her disgust back in. Minako certainly didn't find herself doing it just to get them off of Akihiko's back, as much as she would hate to admit it.

As the oppressive force shrunk away – even just a little bit – Akihiko gave her the slightest smile of relief as the two of them walked off. Minako met it with one of her own, though parts of her were still on guard for caustic reactions.

From... well, everywhere, really.

If Minako were being honest with herself, the façade she had to continually maintain was a heavy burden to bear, especially when it was nearly daily.

She'd never asked to be saddled with that sort of responsibility. At times, Minako kicked herself for forcing the armour upright each day. Sometimes, she wished that the responsibility of her being the one and only Wild Card in her group wasn't hers.

After all, if she wasn't, she wouldn't have to form all these bonds with these other people. She wouldn't have to get closer to them. She wouldn't have to know every single detail about them; every single thing that mattered to them.

Yet, she did. Minako loved being with them.

So, that night, after she'd nearly broken some of the arcade machines, she took a deep breath. Recuperated. Cleaned her armour of the blood, sweat and tears.

She had to become immaculate. The daily onslaught couldn't hurt her.

It had to galvanize her.

Minako screwed her eyes up tight, and tried to let go of the armour. The perfect wall. If only the others knew how heavy it was.

...If only.