Fuuko glanced at her surroundings nervously. It was getting darker with each step they took. Tokiya had put her down after she agreed to stop running away or acting like a child. So far, they had been following Fuyu deeper into the hallway and up a small flight of stairs.

Finally, they reached their rooms. The two rooms were opposite each other. The oak wood doors looked old and worn out, yet still elegant. The doors had a delicate pattern engraved on them. 'I wonder how the room will look like...' Fuuko thought to herself, her fear temporarily forgotten. Fuyu turned around to speak with them.

"Mikagami-san, your room is on the left, and Fuuko-san, yours on the right. I hope you will like your rooms and enjoy your stay. I shall see you later at the dining hall."

The eight-year old girl then left quietly. Tokiya and Fuuko didn't hear her snickering softly as they entered their rooms.

Fuuko gave a small gasp as she opened the oak door and found herself in an antique, yet lovely-looking room. She turned around to see Tokiya's reaction to his room, but saw that the ice-boy had already entered his room and closed the door firmly behind him.

"Oh well..." Fuuko muttered before stepping into her room and out of the dark corridor.

Tokiya looked around his room. 'Not bad for a place that looks like it would break down any moment.' He thought to himself.

Fuuko explored the room to her heart's content. The room was nicely furnished with a noble bed, a maple bedside table, and a large closet filled with dresses (much to her annoyance and distaste). The dresses were pretty old, except for 2 or 3 or them that seemed to be brand new and exactly her size. As a source of entertainment, there was a bookshelf filled with plenty of sappy love stories.

However, what attracted Fuuko the most was the mirror on the wall that was located right in front her bed. Portraits of a beautiful lady were on each side of the mirror. Fuuko walked over and observed them further.

The woman was lovely indeed. She had high cheekbones, a creamy complexion, silky brown hair, a pert nose, full red lips and startling blue eyes that resembled Fuuko's own sapphire orbs. The woman reminded Fuuko of her own mother. The resemblance was strikingly similar, except that her mother had black hair.

The first picture featured the woman with a sad smile on her face, her eyes hiding something. The second picture was not much different except that this time, the woman was grim. Again, her eyes seemed to withhold a secret that only she knew.

Fuuko turned her attention to the mirror in the center. The glass reflected her reflection as she gazed in awe at the complicated designs on the rim of the mirror. The rim, made out of what seemed as silver, was carved with motifs of different flowers.

She spotted some words engraved at the bottom of the mirror. Peering closely, squinting her eyes a bit, Fuuko finally managed to make out the fading words.

"Suzuki Yukiko" she said softly.

Fuuko looked up. Suzuki, wasn't that her mother's maiden name? Suzuki Yukiko... it sounded so familiar to her... where did she hear it from?

"Suzuki Yukiko... Suzuki Yukiko... where have I heard that name before?" Fuuko kept murmuring to herself, willing herself to remember. Exasperated, she gave up and looked at the portraits.

"Well one thing is certain, the woman in the portraits must be Suzuki Yukiko..."

Fuuko could hear some rustling behind her. She turned around to find nothing. 'My imagination's working up again.'

As her exhaustion waved over her, she jumped onto her bed and snuggled under the covers. "There's still some time left..." she mumbled before falling asleep.

Sometime later, Tokiya stood outside her room, poised to knock on her door. Thinking twice, he decided not to and continued his way to the dining hall to meet up with the rest of monkey horde.

Fuuko woke up suddenly, gasping for breath from her weird dream.

A woman, a few years older than herself, was beckoning her towards a hallway. As she followed, the walls around her became narrower and narrower till she had to squeeze her way through to reach the small door at the end.

She noticed right away that this room was different from the rest. It was bright, and did not have a strange aura; in fact, it was probably the most cheery room she had been in since she had stepped into the mansion. The woman was already lounging on her red silk couch. She had sat beside the woman and received a warm smile.

Before she could start a conversation with the woman, the woman silently shrieked in fear, her mouth open in a soundless scream, as a rough looking man stormed in. He was angry, his face was red, purple almost. His green eyes blazing with hatred.

He grabbed the woman and started hitting her. Fuuko found herself unable to move. She watched in horror.

Unexpectedly, he hurled the woman at the mirror. As her head hit the surface of the shiny glass, it cracked into pieces. The man immediately loosened his grip on her.

Fuuko swore that the woman seemed to be begging her for help as she bled on the floor, the pieces of glass lying around her.

It had seemed all real. Finally, she realized why the woman looked so familiar. It was Suzuki Yukiko! Fuuko's head turned towards the portraits, as if asking the lady in them to answer all the questions forming in her head.

Sighing, Fuuko got up to meet the rest in the dining hall. She was surprised to find that her watch had stopped at 7.22. 'That's when I fell asleep!'

Never the less, Fuuko rushed out of the room trying to find her way to the dining hall, hoping that she was not too late for supper. What she did not know was that she had been sleeping for nearly five hours, therefore, it was already past midnight, and she was walking around the house alone in the dark.