Reflection of Another World Volume 1, page 2
“Is your tooth better? Are you okay to be up and about?”
In response, Tomoko opened her mouth wide. She pulled the corner of her mouth back so Yura could see the tooth that’d been treated, then indicated it with her thumb. Yura laughed without meaning to.
“By the way, is that a gift?”
Eagle-eyed Tomoko had apparently noticed the plastic bag and pointed to it, a smile playing on her lips. She must’ve somehow guessed what was inside and was happy when she opened the bag and confirmed its contents. She set the bag nearby and pointed to a chair.
“Just have a seat and wait. I’ll bring us something to drink.”
By drink, she meant soy milk. Yura had developed a fondness for soy milk in the time she’d been friends with Tomoko.
There were several pieces of antique furniture throughout the six-mat wide shop. There was an old-fashioned nightstand with a lamp and wall-mountable candlesticks on top. Vases and china were positioned in the display case by the window. There was a flower table with intricate designs engraved upon its tabletop and legs.
There was an unassuming but deftly crafted, Satsuma Kiriko cut glass. Stained glass on the wall, an armful of boat lamps—every kind of antique was displayed all over, both on the floor or standing on its own. There was a variety of different goods, and though the shop was messy, it had an enchanting quality to it.
It had become Tomoko and Yura’s hangout spot, and Tomoko’s current father seemed to have very good tastes.
But does he really get enough business out here?
That thought had crossed her mind every time she visited. Compared to downtown, bustling with pedestrians and cars, this neighborhood bore only the slightest hint of life. It was in the middle of a residential area, and the road before it was an elementary school zone. On top of that, the road was only wide enough for one car to fit through.
In fact, Yura could count on one hand the number of people she’d seen in the shop in the two years since she started coming that were actual customers. Every now and then, while she and Tomoko were chatting, she would catch someone peering in out of curiosity but not actual customers.
“Is it because you aren’t actively trying to sell the stuff?”
When she had asked Tomoko, she’d responded with a big laugh and said, “I’ve never really thought about it.”
At that time, Tomoko shouted to the owner himself, who just happened to be present, “Are you making money off this, Papa?”
Mr. Hatada reassured Yura with a friendly smile that they really weren’t trying, and that in all honestly, he didn’t even want to sell any of these objects.
Then he’d recommended a nearby chair to Yura that had a 40,000-yen price tag.
“Isn’t it lovely? Touch anything you like. Antiques like this become lovelier the more they are held and cherished. Well…that’s the same for women, isn’t it?”
Tomoko was always full of energy, but she was a romantic at her core.
Thinking back on that memory made Yura smile.
She gave each of the nearby chairs a good look and pulled up the one that caught her eye the most. As she sat down, the chair emitted a peculiar wooden squeak, having not been sat on for many years.
The inside of the shop was dim. Not only were the windows small to begin with, but there were goods stacked everywhere and only on the brightest of days did the light get through.
Yura sat still with her legs together, in an attempt not to accidentally topple any boxes, and listened carefully. She could hear Tomoko moving about in the back. In the distance, a high-pitched klaxon wailed twice and then fell silent.
All was suddenly quiet. The light piercing the window warmed the peaceful shop. Yura was so comfortable that she might fall asleep if she wasn’t careful.
In this welcome stillness in front of Yura, a ray of sunlight shone on a giant mirror hanging on the wall.
Yura gently closed her eyes.
It’s so bright…
The crimson light reflected off the mirror, showering Yura with the remnants of the setting sun’s rays. The mirror was sharing just a bit of the sun’s pleasant warmth. A sudden sound caused Yura to open her eyes.
Footsteps.
Wondering if it was Tomoko coming back, Yura looked around. Nothing. But still, she heard the footsteps in the back of the shop.
I must be hearing things.
She closed her eyes once more.
She heard the sound of a heavy door closing, followed by a child’s soft footsteps.
This area does have some affluent homes, she thought.
It must have been a child from one such home leaving their house and running around outside. At this time of day, perhaps they were off to cram school? She often saw children sporting the firm-sided backpacks elementary schoolers wore rushing to and from the nearby school.
In the beginning, the sound started as a run, then began to slow. They were walking. And…they were crying.
Sobbing.
The child’s voice was very clear. Yura thought she could hear it now and then.
Unlike adults, when children cried, there was no guile. All their sadness and their anger shined through.
It was a tense sound, like a bow pulled taut. It echoed as it grew more intense, and the one crying couldn’t hold back the hiccuping sobs. Yura opened her eyes once more and looked around for the person.
She looked for a face and saw none.
When her eyes returned to the mirror.
She was taken aback.
Huh?
It was an utterly unbelievable sight.
A child was suddenly standing before her. He seemed to be in the wall itself.
Yura blinked. Over and over to be sure. And then finally, she was sure of it—standing before her, inside the mirror with strands of packing tape still on it, was a boy of about seven, his body shaking as he rubbed his eyes.
The child was clad in old-fashioned clothes, with a somewhat stylish stand-up collar.
At first, Yura was sure she’d made some sort of mistake. She turned away in surprise, then looked back again. She hadn’t noticed it before, but if she hadn’t gone crazy, then the mirror should have been reflecting the one piece of used furniture, the umbrella stand with the little oil painting hanging above it.
But behind the child was a place that looked like a castle of some sort rather than the antique shop.
Trembling, Yura rose from the chair and approached the mirror. The child still hadn’t noticed her. He merely stood still in front of the mirror, blowing his nose. He covered his eyes and blinked as several more tears fell. Coughing, he finally looked her way and stopped moving.
“……”
Yura’s eyes widened at the sight of a child with such a guarded expression. The face was unlike a child’s, cold and distorted by the tears. It was almost like a beast trying in vain to mimic human emotion.
The child looked up at Yura. She timidly drew closer. Finally, in front of the mirror, her eyes met his. He spoke not a word, merely staring.
The child’s eyes were a beautiful color. Perhaps because of the tears, they sparkled like jewels. They were a gentle, clear, and innocuous green. Despite her hesitancy, lulled by those eyes, she spoke in a whisper.
“…Hey, you okay?”
The child gave no reply, merely staring blankly at Yura.
After remaining quiet for a few moments, Yura tried again.
“…Hello? Hey…umm, is that where you’ve always lived?”
The child sucked in his lip and, after a short time, nodded. Somehow, he could hear Yura.
“…I see.”
Yura had meant to ask if he was living inside the mirror. She could occasionally hear Tomoko rummaging in the kitchen.
“…Are you always there?”
Still silent, the child gave a nod.
“Why are you crying?”
At that moment, the boy dropped his head.
Somehow, Yura got the feeling she understood why. Perhaps the reason he was crying was…
“Aw, don’t cry,” Yura said, trying to smile for him.
Large tears welled up in his eyes. Without much thought, Yura knocked on the mirror.
“See? Just look at this sad face in this lovely mirror.”
The boy finally spoke. He looked up and, in a strained voice, exclaimed, “Mirrors are meant to reflect lovely faces!”
Yura gasped at how loud his voice was.
As soon as he spoke, he dropped his head even lower than before.
While his voice wasn’t really that loud, his words were sharp and struck with the force of a whip. Yura shook her head vigorously.
“Th-that’s not true…”
Yura started to say that mirrors reflect all things equally but then stopped herself. She wasn’t sure who, but someone, somewhere, was tormenting this boy with such a fact. She couldn’t say something so brutal.
Unable to find the right words, she touched the mirror and fell silent. The boy stood tall, timidly stretching his tiny hand to meet hers, the mirror between them.
Oddly enough, the mirror carried not only his voice, but his body heat too. There was a slight spot of warmth where her hand touched his amidst the cold glass.
Yura closed her eyes.
At times like this, Yura could never figure out what to say. She frantically searched for the words that’d rightly convey what she wanted.
At that moment, the warmth of the hand Yura was touching began to spread. She wondered if he was spreading his fingers. But that faint warmth was beginning to grow rapidly. In no time at all, the hand on the other side of the mirror had gotten big enough to close around Yura’s hand. It hadn’t merely gotten bigger; it had actually grown. It was the size of an adult’s hand.
Yura opened her eyes.
On the other side of the mirror, looking down at Yura from a head taller than her, was an unfamiliar young man.
Tear stains remained on his cheeks. His familiar eyes told her without a doubt that this was the child from before.
And then, that pitiful, unsightly countenance disappeared, as if wiped away. It was like he’d cast off that hideous mask, and what remained was a breathtakingly handsome young man.
Yura stood frozen in surprise.
His emerald-green eyes blinked. She thought she could almost hear it. He too looked shocked, and tears began to trickle down his cheeks.
“…Mo…ther…?” he asked Yura hesitantly.
Dumbfounded, Yura opened her mouth to ask him a question.
“Wh—”
Who are you?
But just then, Tomoko’s voice yanked Yura back to reality. Her high-pitched, resonant voice echoed throughout the tiny shop.
“Yuraaaaa!!”
As if someone had punched her, Yura was dragged back into the present. She yanked her hand away from the mirror and stumbled over her own feet onto the floor.
“What?! Did you see one?” Tomoko exclaimed, grabbing a can of insecticide from beside the phone and leaping into action.
Yura was trying to wriggle her way up using a chair, clinging to it for support atop the dusty carpet.
“I bet they got in on something brought into the shop. Sometimes they do…and the ones that come in from outside, they’re even bigger than the ones we have here… Ooh, I can’t stand them!” Tomoko was at Yura’s side in full panic mode.
Yura slumped to the ground.
Finally, the babbling Tomoko realized something was off. Her face became serious and she furrowed her brows.
“…Yura?”
All that Tomoko could see in Yura’s eyes as she clung desperately to that chair, her face pale, was her own puzzled expression.
“I’m so sorry for taking so long! I wasn’t thinking and erased my little brother’s scheduled recording of his favorite anime. He’d flip out if he came home and found out, so I was trying to find the instruction manual so I could restore it. I kinda lost track of time. Sorry!”
As she listened and nodded to Tomoko, Yura staggered to her feet.
A chill ran through her. As if unable to believe what she’d just seen, Yura pressed her eyes closed and slipped into the chair.
***
DARKNESS enveloped her surroundings.
She could see nothing.
There was no noise.
Not even a hint of wind.
With only the thump of her heart beating, the distant sound of people shouting could suddenly be heard. They didn’t sound happy either. They certainly weren’t shouts of joy.
There was another ominous sound accompanying the shouting. No, not just one, but several hundred sounds—all blending together.
It was the marching footsteps of thousands of people. The sound of something larger than humans—its heavy stomps shaking her world of darkness with the added sound of screeching metal.
Terrified, Yura crouched down where she stood.
I don’t want to hear this! I don’t want to hear these sounds!
The sounds were like waves ebbing and flowing on a beach; growing closer, then receding far away into obscurity, over and over again. Yura closed her eyes to the darkness and covered her ears.
She had no idea what was going on, nor did she want to know.
I just have to get away.
And yet, her legs wouldn’t move even one step forward. On the contrary, it was as if her body refused to listen, preventing her from acting on her desire to flee.
Light pierced the darkness through her covered eyes causing Yura to look up.
The blanket of darkness was giving way to a veil of crimson.
She rose in shock, glancing around. She had no idea what was coming.
For the first time she became aware of her surroundings.
This was no mere dream of sounds. It was far worse.
This was a massacre.
A war zone.
Yura stood, among all those distorted shouts, right in the middle of a battlefield.
The veil of crimson she had seen was the light of numerous fires dotting the horrific battlefield.
Trailing like a red-tailed comet, flaming arrows converged as they flew through the air.
Thousands of hands clenched blades drenched in blood, clanging wildly against one another with no sense of rhyme or reason.
Where am I?
Suddenly, a man approached Yura, the look on his face like an ogre’s wreathed in madness. His mouth was wide open and the crimson blade he carried rose into the air.
He was suddenly hit on the back of the head by something metallic and fell with his face pointing toward the sky above. The next moment, his body was trampled by horse hooves. The muffled sound echoed, and Yura instinctively clasped her hands over her mouth and turned away. Her heel slid in the muck and she fell into a puddle.
But she screamed as she realized that it wasn’t water and soil, but blood, turned a strange, dark color.
She screamed as she struggled to escape her nightmare. Managing to make it several steps away, she was able to grab a blade that had been planted in the ground.
I can’t…scream…
Yura’s arm lifted the blade from the sloshy mess. It was so heavy. Her arm felt so very heavy, like it might crumble from the weight. But there was no time for rest. Somehow, she knew that.
Yura’s legs turned all on their own and, slowly, finally, she began to walk.
She kept moving forward, breaking through the tumultuous scene. It was like she’d momentarily been taken over by someone else. Like her consciousness was trapped while another piloted her every action.
I’m scared. I’m scared. So very scared. I want to scream! Why can't I scream?
But the one piloting her forcefully silenced such actions. As if voicing such feelings would be a death sentence. They were crushed flat along with Yura herself.
Her arm swung. Supple, like a whip. Each time the retrieved blade fell, it slashed at another arm, pulling her further into the fray.
It was as if the blade itself was bleeding. The blade was bathed in a bright crimson. Yura’s arm only clutched the sword tighter. Without leaving a moment for any counterattack, her weapon swung down, again and again, felling one enemy after the next. Each new victim fell in her path.
The blade felt heavy no longer.
As if whoever had possessed Yura’s body was in complete control.
No, it was as if they’d completely switched places.
Yura looked at her arm.
Her arm was not the arm she was used to seeing. It was slender but definitely a man’s arm. It was strong, as if encased in steel. The hands were wrapped in bandages and drenched in blood.
The sword swung. Again and again. The sound of the sword slicing through flesh along with that sickening sensation.
Even when Yura could no longer hear the sound, she could feel the warm sensation of viscera flung against her face and neck.
No more. No more!
No more, please! Someone, help me! I can’t take anymore!
And then she woke up.
***
“ARE you possessed or something?” Tomoko asked immediately after Yura opened the door the next morning. Tomoko visited Yura like this daily.
Yura stiffened.
In just the day since they’d last seen one another, Yura had developed large, deep bags under her eyes, noticeable even to a complete stranger.
She’d checked herself in the mirror since waking up. But, from the look on Tomoko’s face, it was clearly worse than she thought.
Obviously, it was from not sleeping at all the night before.
No matter how she tried to shake it off, the persistent dream clung to her more maliciously than any had before.
She was far beyond exhausted, still Yura rubbed her bleary eyes and forced a smile.
“Oh, I’m fine.”
“And what about the band-aid?”
Yura hid the hand she had placed on the gate to the yard.
The second she’d awoken from that awful dream, she’d flailed and cut her hand on a decorative pitcher she had at her bedside.
Seeing the blood at such a horrible moment obviously added to her stress.
Tomoko gazed at her friend with a look of pity. Yura was clearly embarrassed about her clumsiness.
