THIRD MIRROR
One should never let the steam build up in the shower as when you finish washing there will be writing on the third mirror from the left regardless of whether there was somebody in the room with you or not.
That was what Y had heard that afternoon as a passing word between two children as she finished her class for the older children: a lesson on the Kira case that had swept the nation some ten years ago. She thought it an oddly specific thing, the third mirror from the left and asked which bathroom it was that you were to never do this in.
"The upstairs one in the South wing." Responded the oldest of the children with far apart eyes and a constant sneer on his face. Despite his appearance, he was the most well-behaved in the class and was always enthusiastic when it came to her lessons. "They say if you stare at the words long enough they'll continue writing in front of you as well."
It was an absurd thing, but Y felt compelled to try it out regardless, so she went to the upstairs bathroom in the South wing where the fourth generation had grown up, and she locked herself in the bathroom. She checked every corner of the tiled space, making sure there was no one in the room with her.
Once she was certain she was alone, she turned on the shower as hot as she was able and stood by the shower staring at the third mirror from the left. She crossed her arms and she waited until she could barely see in front of her before she quickly turned off the shower and marched to the mirror, glaring at its blurred surface.
It was then that she saw it.
Large writing appeared on the surface, written by an invisible hand. She watched an M form, transforming into an A T T.
MATT WAS HERE.
She barely knew Matt, having joined Wammy's House as a member only two years before his closest companion Mello had stormed out. Matt had been a quiet boy devoted to his video games, but it did not stop the ache in her heart when she learned of his death: and such a pointless death it had been he had surrendered and was shot to death. She made sure the police had suffered for that personally.
"Matt…" She called out into the shower room, and for a moment she caught sight of a tall figure in the corner of the mirror. She turned around, but saw nobody there.
She was completely alone.
She had tried it again the next day, once again locking herself in the room and turning on the shower to its full temperature, standing in front of the mirror and watching as it fogged up. She watched her face vanished into a blur of vague colours and, once again, watched as the letters formed on the surface.
IT'S COLD.
She thought it rather warm, and told the ghost as such even though she could not see him.
It was only as the mirror began to clear that she saw an extra hand on her shoulder. She turned once again, startled by the hand. The hand was not on her shoulder, but when she turned back it was brown hair that stood in the mirror, and the face of a boy she had only seen for a short time.
He stared for a moment with a tilted head. Slowly, she reached out with a gloved hand. The mirror shattered before she could touch it.
"Shit!" She cursed, a shard pricking her finger, seeping through the white surface of her glove. She quickly pulled the glove off, shoving it into her skirt pocket. She would have to close off the bathroom until the mirror could be fixed.