WARNING (for the entire story): Dub names are used. Possibly some language. And it's an AU.

EDIT: Just fixed a few errors. Content is the same.

~ Chapter 1 ~

Kouichi's POV

I stared at the mirror. He stared back, his own cold, blue eyes boring into my dark ones. I reached up and lightly touched the glass with the flat of my palm. He grudgingly did the same, the reflection seemingly both at the same time simply that, while at other times a completely different person.

I allowed my hand to gently slide off the mirror, his hand moving with much more purpose, yet still bound to my movements. I inched closer to the boy, his expression clearly displaying irritation. Strange, I thought, as although confused, I felt at ease. Perhaps he didn't like the coating of darkness that adorned the room at night. Even stranger as that's where and when I felt most at ease.

My own curiosity growing I took a closer look at the world the mirror-glass showed me. Or more precisely, at the boy in it. His mouth quirked downwards into a scowl, breaking his complete symmetry to my relaxed feature. "Who are you?" I asked quietly, gazing at the blue eyes so much like mine. He stared back at me, unmoving, an answer unforthcoming.

Feeling stupid at asking a reflection (and my own at that) such an idiotic question, I sighed and forced my eyes from my double to gaze wordlessly at the tiny room in which I slept. Although it was dark due to it being the middle of the night, I could see every portion of the room perfectly. Thin sheets covered a small bed that was unceremoniously shoved into the corner and squashed by a rickety desk. The desk was covered with sketches and lilting writing and looked old and beat down. A set of twin book selves was littered with many thick volumes, each placed with care, albeit the bindings coming apart. A simple dressing-drawer took up the rest of the wall-space which held the pathetic amount of clothes that I possessed. A worn backpack sat atop it, its bulging form hinting at the school supplies buried within. The dark curtain was drawn, blocking any light that the outside world had to offer. Smiling at the comfortable sparseness of my room, I turned back to the full-length mirror that stood behind me…

The boy was deeply scowling, his smooth face openly showing frustration.

I gasped in surprise at the great difference between us, one of us content while the other annoyed.

As if realising his mistake, my doppelganger quickly adjusted himself to match me perfectly, the lines on his face smoothing as his feature relaxed. I blinked a few more times, but the image simply copied me. "Great, now I'm imagining things…" I muttered darkly underneath my breath, my own features hardening as I glared at the mirror.

I don't know why, but I always felt like mirror-me preferred to frown.

Normally, I'd just give up on the mirror at that point, but that night I just didn't feel like giving up that easily.

He was like my complete opposite, I felt. Just like me, but totally different. Fitting for a reflection, don't you think? Working on that assumption, I relaxed my features again, stepping up close to the cool surface of the mirror. He liked his personal space. Ignoring his (imaginary as reflections don't actually have feeling or minds of their own) annoyance, I gazed deeply into his eyes, searching for answers to questions I hadn't yet asked. His eyes, which I swore were the smallest degree lighter than my own, bore into my in return, a fierce stare. I didn't dwell on the fact that the boy could search my eyes in return; my dark eyes revealed nothing. But his… I saw confusion (normal since that was what I was feeling too) and frustration. I saw latent anger and concealed pain in those orbs.

None of it made sense to me. Why were my reflection's eyes so different to my own? Why was the other boy in pain? Why was he so angry? I bit my lip, hating the feeling of sorrow I felt for the image behind the glass, hating myself for the fact I was feeling sorry for a simple manipulation of light.

Yet the persistent feeling refused to leave me and I felt my heart begin to ache as I stared into those eyes which could have been mistaken for mine.

Drawing in a deep breath, I tore my eyes away from his own, instead making them trace the outline of his face. Same nose, same chin, same eyebrows, and the same eyelashes. Yet I felt a strange stirring in my chest as I inwardly latched onto the fact his lips seemed more firm and controlled than my own soft, vulnerable ones…

Actually I might have had more trouble penetrating the darkness than I originally thought as I leaned forward to peer at the silky black hair of the reflection. The exact same colour, yet seemingly having slightly less volume and looking somehow softer. I blinked in surprise the closer I got to the glass as I noticed the boys hair reached down longer that mine. In fact it was a completely different style and was held back by a single elastic!

I felt sick. Maybe mama was right and too much reading was bad for you and I was finally losing my mind because of it. I wanted nothing more than to cover the image with the cloth I used to protect it with during the day. I wanted to permit the tingling weakness in my legs so as to forget the mirror's lie. I wanted… I wanted to figure it out. My curiosity always was my weak point, I bitterly thought to myself, because I wanted to KNOW. I wanted to know even though every sense I had was crying for me to ignore it. But it was as if I NEEDED to know.

I moved even closer towards the mirror, adrenalin coursing through my veins. I once more placed the flat of my palm against the cool of the glass. The reflection moved his hand to mine at the same time, still copying my every movement even though I was sure that he was no longer truly me. I leaned forward so that if we were truly in the same room, we would have been only an inch apart. His fierce blue eyes bore into my searching sapphire eyes, a gaze that once made would be near impossible to break. "Who are you?" I whispered, so softly as if asking any louder would cause this strange dream I was having to shatter and leave everything a broken mess.

He said nothing but I suddenly saw the boy standing in a large, bare room, gold and white lavished the architecture. He was wearing light silk clothes and looked as fit as a prince. His expression however remained the same; frustration and quietly fuming anger. The room was also bright. Blindingly so…

Oh man, it stung! I screamed as my arms instinctively came up to clutch at my burning retina. I toppled over backwards and my breath temporarily left me as my back hit the wooden floor hard. It hurt! I screamed again as the light from the room beyond the mirror fell upon my prone form. My whole body was on fire! It hurt so much! It burnt! Forcing myself not to scream any further I curled up into myself, burying my head in my chest and arms.

I whimpered as I felt myself blacking out, "Who are you?"

AN: I had originally intended this as a one-shot, short and to the point, but I got viciously attacked by a plot bunny as I wrote this chapter and decided to make it a chapter-series instead (I feel strangely confidant about this one). Fun fact: This is the story that broke my writer's block for all my other stories. Reviews are greatly loved and appreciated (I literally spend the rest of the day/night feeling on top of the world!). Feel free to ask any questions. Flames are used to warm me up before the cold of 'wherever I am' gives me frostbite. Thanks for reading!