Seto had all but forgotten about the mirror when he returned to the room he slept in. Not only was there a small hand mirror laid on the wooden bench, but also two thick blankets draped over the wood. He wondered if it was the monster's form of kindness, or if maybe Mary had been the one to bring the mirror at the beast's orders.

With a slight smile on his face he wrapped himself in the larger of the two blankets and turned the mirror to face him, the smooth metal cold against his fingers. His own face greeted him, and Seto jumped a little; he hadn't seen himself in years, and there had been no one to tell him how desperately he needed a hair cut, or much baby fat he'd lost from his cheeks. He had more important things to worry about, however.

The monster had told him how to work it, hadn't she? Seto took a deep breath, and then released it, condensation fogging the surface of the mirror for just a second. Then he spoke.

"Can I see my family?"

The image of his face wavered and shook, the blobs of color running like paint and re-forming into forms he recognized. The main room of the little cottage took shape, three small shapes seated in front of the fireplace. Kido's hair was long now and she'd grown tall like him, but she was huddled in Ayano's lap, her head bowed. Seto couldn't see her face. Kano leaned against the girls, his back hunched and a forced smile on his face. Though it wasn't a still picture— the fire flickered and shadows shivered around them— none of them moved an inch.

Seto didn't understand. Where were the adults? He shook the mirror as if to shuffle the images, but nothing happened. The magic must need a verbal request.

"Where's, um, where's Kenjirou?" he asked, his voice soft and guilty like the monster could be listening in. The blobs ran and twisted again, revealing the shape of his father hunched over a desk, his surroundings of a nicer quality than anything Seto had ever seen before coming to this ancient castle. Two noble children were in the background, standing in front of easels, a bowl of fruit on the table. They must be painting it, but Seto only had enough attention for his father and the way his hands shook in the mirror.

The lines on his face made him look decades older than when last Seto had seen him, but maybe the boy's memory was faulty. He'd only been a child then, after all.

Seto wondered if his job was going badly, if they were on the edge of starvation again. He'd thought it'd be easier without an extra mouth around to feed, and that had been one of the nice things about living here; he could eat as much as he liked without worrying about who was going to suffer for it. He supposed he had that to blame for his sudden growth spurt.

Just to check, he mumbled, "How 'bout Ayaka?"

The mirror went gray, and then his face swam back into view. Seto tried again, but with no results. He didn't know what that meant. Maybe the mirror was faulty, or maybe there was a range that she'd gone outside of. Of course, there was no reason for her to be far away from the children either…

He set the magical item on the floor under the bench and rolled himself up in the blankets, trying to forget what he'd seen. He focused on the happier parts of the image, like Kano's smile (although he knew it was forced) and Ayano's hand combing gently through Kido's hair.

Slowly his mind was able to construct a half memory, half fantasy of when they were children and had all slept tangled together for warmth. They'd been too thin, razor elbows digging into his ribs, but they'd been happy. Surely they could be happy again. The mirror might not even work properly, after all.

Seto fell asleep and dreamed of home, of laughter shaking the rafters of the little house. The blankets helped keep the illusion of warmth, and he never wanted to wake up again.

…

He'd forgotten that the monster had said she had a new job since he'd finished the courtyard just the previous day. He was reminded when instead of the old red scarf, his hands found the strip of pink cloth she'd given him. He turned it over in his hands, before tying it around his eyes in a firm knot in the back.

With sure footsteps he made his way to the banquet hall, certain that the monster was going to be waiting for him there. The sound of hissing snakes was entirely absent, however, and he felt his way to the bench at the table, sitting down to wait.

A small hand touched his shoulder.

"Seto?"

He squawked and fell of the end of the bench, hitting the ground hard. His hands fumbled for the blindfold but it was already being pulled off for him, and Mary's concerned face came into view.

"A-ah I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you, are you okay?" She hovered over him, brushing off his shoulders as though he would have accumulated dust just from falling over. After the initial surprise wore off, Seto laughed.

"It's fine! I just wasn't expecting you." He levered himself to his feet and sat back down, and she joined him on the bench, pulling a plate over to herself and beginning to fill it with food. "I thought the monster would be here, since she said something about me getting a new job to do…"

Mary jumped and hurried to swallow the food in her mouth before speaking. "Oh! I was supposed to tell you! You're— she said to say— you're going to help me clean from now on."

A happy cloud of warmth filled Seto's chest. He wouldn't be alone all day anymore. "Great! Where do we start?"

"Ah-ha… well it's a big project, so anywhere is fine…" Mary concentrated on pushing food around with her fork, and Seto got the feeling she hadn't done anything herself at all. He didn't mind.

After breakfast, she somehow procured mops and buckets and sponges from a hidden away room Seto had never even noticed. They began in the far wing, where he'd hardly ever been, and spent the entire day chasing spiderwebs from corners and scrubbing the floor until it shone.

Along the way, though, he asked her questions about living in the castle so long, and she answered slowly and hesitantly. He figured she was just shy, especially since she couldn't have had much in the way of friends before.

When he went to bed that night his back ached and his throat creaked from overuse. It had been years since he'd laughed that much; reading to the monster wasn't the same. Still, there was a smile on his face as he fell asleep, and he was almost able to forget the sight in the mirror.