Disclaimer: The mirror is Hotohori's by all rights, Koutoku is Yuu Watase's, but his reflection (whose name is Kanashimi, if anyone really needed to know) is all mine... *smug grin* Oy vey, it's deep!

The Boy in the Mirror

He's sad again. He has been, these last few days. Three days ago he came in here and leaned against the mirror and sobbed. I longed to comfort him, but all I could do was copy his movements. I wish I knew what it was that makes him act so heartbreakingly.

And today he comes and reaches his hand out, tracing my cheekbone with his fingers. I would shiver if I were able. Finally he pulls back his hand and says:

"Tomorrow is the summoning of Suzaku. And you, Koutoku, you will slaughter your friends and the girl you love. And knowing this, you can still smile with them and enjoy their company. How can you do that? Damn you."

He doesn't know, when he says that, how much it makes me want to tell him to stop.

I've known him since he was very small. The first time a little boy crawled out of his house and saw his reflection in a pool from a fresh rainfall, I was created. I have been his reflection his entire life.

And in knowing him this long, I know that it is not his fault. It could not be, because he hates killing or hurting things. I know he would never hurt anyone willingly. Therefore, it cannot be his fault. Not gentle Koutoku.

Suddenly he reaches out his hand and puts it over my face, and then slides to the floor, his hand reaching up. He is doubled over, kneeling, and his hand clenches into a fist. Then he looks up, and his face frightens me. He looks so stricken, as though he has been ripped apart.

"And you'll do it, Koutoku. Of course you will. How could you ever refuse that man? Especially when the life of your brother is in his hands? Besides," his tone is unexpectedly bitter, "He said that they caused the war. There would never be peace unless you killed them. So certainly you must. You fool!"

I wish we could change. If only he could be just the reflection, and be free from pain, and grief, and all the things that have made him cry. If only I could take his place and save him from it, even for a little while.

I remember a time when I reflected in a pool of blood and his tears splashed down into the red. That was when his parents were murdered. I remember every single time I ever reflected him. But it was so very rarely that it was ever a happy reflection.

And now he stands again, and wipes the teardrops away furiously. He glares at me, his face contorted, showing anger mingled with suffering.

"And what will they think if they see you like this, eh, Koutoku? If this act is to be convincing, you have to be happy. Besides, once you kill them tomorrow your duty will be over and you'll be allowed to kill yourself at last. And you're looking forward to that, aren't you? Well, it's only one more day."

Then he turns and leaves the room with the mirror for the room with the bed, and I creep into the air around him so that the next time he looks in the glass I'll be ready to form his reflection. I understand, now, why he is so unhappy. And there's nothing I can do to change it. I even understand why he wants to kill himself.

If only I could reflect him with joy and peace. But it's just a dream that won't come true. It's just the dream and the thoughts, the memories and understandings, of the boy in the mirror. That's all.

Owari.