I lied. This was originally supposed to be a oneshot, but then they grew, as all my stories grew. Now it's a multi-chapter fic, longer than even the Natsume Yuujinchou fic's prospective length.

There were a variety of inspirations for this fic. First and foremost is the Vocaloid song, by HitoshizukuP and Yama(delta), "Mahou no Kagami" - The Magic Mirror. After that, there are scenes taken from the manga Hotarubi no Mori by Midorikawa Yui, and quotes taken from Piece by Ashihara Hinako.

I'd like to thank my friends bonafide and moos for their constant support and feedback on this fic, despite not knowing the fandom!

Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1

There were many things an eight year old was scared of – heights, the dark, spiders, sharks... Alfred Jones was proud to say that he was afraid of none of those things. He loved heights, even wanted to fly a plane someday, soar among the clouds in a fighter jet. There was nothing in the dark that could scare him because he was Alfred-freaking-Jones (his twin Matthew said this wasn't a good enough reason, but Mattie was Mattie, which meant he was not Alfred, and thus he was afraid of the dark). Spiders hardly posed a problem, and he'd never actually seen a real life shark before in his life, so he hadn't decided whether he was scared of them yet (movies didn't count since everything looked scary on a big screen).

There was, however, one thing that Alfred was afraid of.

"Why are we doing this again, Mattie?" Alfred whimpered, his voice shuddering and glasses clattering as he trembled from head to toe. Nevertheless, he had to remain strong for his brother, who was probably even more scared than he was and clutching his sleeve like a lifeline. In one hand he held a Little League bat; in another, a flashlight Neither would prove to be much protection where they were going, though. "Why are we heading into a haunted house, the haunted house, at midnight on a full moon?"

Matthew drew the stuffed polar bear he'd brought with him for comfort closer to his chest. He didn't have a weapon of his own, but with Alfred around, there was no need. "Because," he said in a weak voice, "you had to take Gil's dare."

Alfred grit his teeth just at the sound of that name. Gilbert was an arrogant bully who had pushed Mattie down during recess and had the gall to say Alfred wasn't a good enough hero for him. Alfred hadn't really thought about what he was getting himself into, but he knew that he had to fight for his beliefs.

Unfortunately, Gilbert had known exactly what Alfred's fear was – ghosts.

The night had only just ticked past eleven, and the night blanket overhead was splashed with stars. The moon, hazy from the cloudy nest surrounding it, outshone the feeble illumination provided by the flashlight, making Alfred wonder if it was even worth using. The goose bumps on the boy's arm were only partially from the chilly wind howling through the bare fingers of the naked trees, grasping like hungry monsters emerging from the ground.

In a corner of Alfred's mind, he remembered that Halloween was next week. He shoved the frightening through from his head immediately.

The first step onto the porch proved that the house was sturdier than it looked – nothing collapsed despite the wood's rotten appearance and the crooked pillars. Alfred set his hand on the handle, but he startled back when the wind wrenched it from his grasp and slammed the door into the wall. He felt Matthew behind him wince at the echoing bang. The both of them paused, looking left and right with swiveling flashlight, to make sure they hadn't awakened some restless spirit.

"Alf," Matthew whispered hesitatingly, "we're in. We did the dare. We don't have to go any further."

Despite his bravado, Alfred gulped. "No, we have to go in further. I'm not Gilbert beat me."

He ignored his brother's muttered "But he'd never know…" and entered the haunted mansion.

Each step gave rise to a small mushroom cloud of dust and neglect. The air was heavy, laden with particles that weighed down each breath, and slowly both Alfred and Matthew were gasping for air. Upwards, Alfred shone his light, and he saw that there were old candleholders down each side of the hall, lamps strung with spider webs like Christmas lights and candelabras dusted with cobweb handkerchiefs. Doors leading to what looked like dark abysses lined down the hall, and Alfred rushed by without looking in, dragging Matthew behind him.

The pair slowly made their way down the hall, one cautious step at a time, but by the time they had made it to one end and back, there was nary a movement in the entire building other than themselves. Matthew heaved a sigh. "That … was really scary." He dug his fingers into Bear's soft fur and buried his nose in its ear.

Alfred scoffed. "Really? There's nothing scary about that place. It was just a pile of dust and old wood. I could've taken it on myself."

His brother gave him that skeptical look he had come to associate with that time he'd told him little gray men existed. Alfred didn't know why. He'd seen it on the History channel, and everything that thing says is real. "You were the one pissing his pants at the mere mention of ghosts – see? You did it again!"

"I can't help it! It doesn't matter how cool or awesome heroes are. You can't hit something that's not there!" There was still the possibility of ghosts around – you never knew – so Alfred yelled back in a stage whisper. "You should be scared too! They could be anywhere…"

Matthew rolled his eyes, tension completely gone now that he knew that there was nothing alive in the mansion except for them, the cockroaches, and the mold. "Come on, let's go find some proof to bring back to Gilbert so he can't say we're lying."

Alfred nodded, because it was always his brother who thought these things through and it was always better to go along than to question him. He trailed behind, one hand still tightly wrapped around his bat, as his twin weaved in and out through the many rooms.

"Weird," Matthew said after their tenth room, "there's nothing here."

"That's because it's an abandoned mansion?"

"Yeah, but in movies there's always something, like a bookshelf, left over…"

"Maybe it's on the second floor?"

Together, their gazes shifted to the staircase behind them. It really was like an old movie set, with the stairs circling against the belly of the mansion, rising to the second floor. There was even the elaborate crystal (albeit grey and dusty) chandelier hanging from the center of the room. The brothers made a point to avoid the center of the hall, just in case the clasp holding the thing up decided to crack right when they were under it.

The climb up to the second floor was uneventful, but each creak set the two on edge as they half-expected the structure to crumble under their feet any moment. "I'm not sure this is a good idea…" mumbled the lighter-haired twin.

Alfred rolled his eyes, but even he heaved a sigh of relief when they had finally reached the last step. "Come on, there's got to be something here."

Again, they repeated what they'd done below, but this time, they were rewarded.

"Here!" waved Matthew, "Come look!"

Alfred jogged over to his brother's side in the doorway … and promptly halted in his tracks.

There, standing before him, was a mirror. Really, it was just a simple mirror, but what had caught his eyes first was how it gleamed under his flashlight. It was clean, without a speck of dust even on the frame. The edges were adorned with red and green stones, like those he'd seen in his mother's jewelry box, and by them were smaller ones, white and blue in color. All of them were arranged in a flowery pattern that trailed down, twisting round and round in fat, lazy curls.

He'd never seen something so beautiful in his whole life.

Matthew was standing by it, inspecting it. "I don't think this'll work… It's got nothing I can chip off." He put his hand onto the reflective surface…

…and promptly hissed when Alfred grabbed his wrist very, very tightly. "What's your problem?" he spat.

Alfred jumped, realizing what he'd just done, and backed away. "Sorry. It's just … it doesn't look like you should touch it. It's almost a waste to get fingerprints on it."

His brother stared at him for a moment, but with such a blank expression Alfred had no idea what he was thinking (he hated it when he did that). After a moment, he shrugged. "Let's go somewhere else."

Alfred could only nod in agreement. He took one last peek at the mirror before he went to follow Matthew out of the room.

And then he did a double-take.

There was something in the mirror. He had seen something. It was yellow, like wheat fields, and there was green, like a newly unfurled leaf. The boy blinked, rubbed his eyes. No, it wasn't gone; in fact, the image was clearer than before.

It was a face. Of whom, Alfred couldn't say, but he was more focused on the "How?" of the image, seeing as how there was no one in front of the mirror. "A … ghost?" he breathed, and the slight sound seemed to have caught the face's attention. Its eyes focused on him.

It was scary. It was unsettling. Alfred wanted to run. But it wasn't a ghost because ghosts were pale and cold, and this face, its eyes, were vivid, alive, and seemed to see straight into him.

He shut his eyes, shook his head. He was seeing things. It was simply impossible; there was no such thing as disembodied heads that showed up in mirrors.

Indeed, when he opened them again, the image was gone, leaving only an empty mirror that reflected his flashlight's beam back onto his chest.

"A-Alfred? Alfred! Where are you?"

The person in question jumped, startled by the sudden yell reverberating through the old building. His brother must have noticed he was missing and thought he was spirited away or kidnapped by a ghost or something.

Not daring to spare the mirror another glance, he rushed out of the room and joined Matthew in what looked like a study room, complete with old bookshelves and books.