The Lost Princess and the Man in the Iron Mask


The man in the iron mask is another Korekutā prisoner, residing in the cell next to Chūjōhime’s in the time that she was missing. She interacted with him on a daily basis through eight layers of reinforced glass.

Ugly Mazu


Days rolled over into months, transitioning into possible years, convoluting one's concept of time while imprisoned and leaving them in a state of displacement. The amount of tests performed, samples taken, and theories tested had become innumerable in the time that these miserable individuals had spent isolated within these halls. While the food bore sustenance, often additives were placed into the concoction in order to satiate the interests of those watching... always watching. One might have thought that such seclusion and isolation came with some level of privacy... But in truth, eyes both natural and autonomous observe their subject with scrutiny. Every movement recorded, every breath document, every factor that described the characteristics of a living being had been cataloged to some mysterious end... Though, most of the captured bore little to no interest to the means nor the goal of such shadow organizations, as their spirits had already been broken and transformed to fit the needs of the society. Every story written has held heroes and tributes unsung, as only the successful are recorded in the pages of history... Or so they had hoped. Maybe one day their experimental methods might cause backlash or one spurned by their action may seek retribution... but as of now, cells remain filled with the agonized patrons of this hidden institute...

It'd been weeks... No, months... Maybe days since the last prisoner had been placed within cell adjacent to his holdings. While the last subject study had sadly chosen to find his own means of escape from this most absolute imprisonment, it had seemed like his latest neighbor had some levels of mental resilience... At least for now... At first, the man sat for minutes...No, days, in wonderment of this latest addition, listening on as the others visited her on the normally scheduled patterns. It hadn't taken long for this person's interest to lead him over towards the connecting walls between the two cells. Leaning against it, the man placed his hopes in the sanity of this new individual, attempting to tap against the reinforced glass planes before announcing himself with a hush whisper - hoping to project his voice through whatever cracks or openings that could be found without bring notice to the possible guards waiting just outside the doors.

~Tap~... ~Tap tap... Tap~

"Hello... Is anyone there?"​



From what she could remember, it had only been a few days. She started a journal three days into her confinement in this unknown location, but there were no windows here. For all she knew, it had only been a day or two, or it could have been a week. They did a lot of tests at first. Generic blood work, mental screenings. There was a random physical durability and endurance test thrown into the mix, but besides that it’s been mostly solitary confinement. Today was the first day it’s been anything besides testing. A man whose name is unknown to her at this time had come to have tea with her. They talked about her mostly, and he allowed her to evade his questions. It was a surprise to her, but anytime she deflected a topic she didn’t want to discuss, he didn’t pry. Mazu was number one on that list, followed by her family. They knew a lot about Daichi, so she put two and two together quickly. These were the people Daichi had gotten himself involved with after they got married.

She’d always assumed it was some underground, secretive criminal activity, but not this. What he’d done for them, she wasn’t sure of her. Perhaps he was one of their strong arms. The man sitting at the table with her certainly wasn’t one of them. He looked like a simple man at least. She’d like to say she is a good judge of character, but she’s been wrong before.

She was brushing her teeth in the small sink in her room, though the bathroom was elsewhere that they would escort her to when needed. It was really just so she could wash her hands if she felt the impulse. Her visitor had explained to her that a lot of their subjects were compulsive behaviorally and washed their hands on a constant basis. They had the sinks put in to keep comfort levels up. In the process of finishing up, a mouth full of water to rinse, she heard a tapping at the glass on the East wall of her room. Since she’d been given the room she’d kept the blinds covering it closed. Quite honestly, she hadn’t even considered that there could be another person on the other side.

Gracefully she moved across the room, drying her face with a towel that hung over her shoulder. She was wearing a plain white shirt and pants. It looked closer to hospital scrubs than anything ends. As she pulled the blinds open she was quite surprised to see the masked man, but she didn’t look outwardly expressive about it. No annoyance. No surprise. Not even relief. A blank expression as she stared through the glass right at him. The gears in her head got to work and after a moment of thought, her eyes softened even just a little bit.

“Hello, neighbor. Did you need to borrow some flour?”



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