Chapter 2: O Mirror, mirror on the wall (Who's the true monster? You or I?)

Blades flashed through the air as their wielders fought, each blow deflected and countered with stunning speed. Eyes narrowed and muscles tensed, bodies slick with sweat twisting through the air in an intricate dance. With a burst of speed, one of the duelists disarmed the other, the knife sent skittering across the floor. Within seconds, the disarmed duelist found themselves held at knife point, the sharp blade dangerously near their throat. There was no other movement.

Then the shorter person huffed out a laugh, retracting the knife with a smile. "You've gotten better, but there's still room for improvement, Akutagawa," Chuuya offered him a wry smirk. "Perhaps you might want a few more lessons?"

Akutagawa ducked his head, slightly embarrassed by his defeat. "Probably," he agreed, bringing up a hand to cough politely. "Though, I'm sure I could take you on with Rashoumon." He looked back up with a glint of defiance in his eyes, the mentioned ability materializing out of his black coat to hiss in agreement.

Chuuya only laughed again. "Maybe some other day," he dismissed, sheathing his knife with a flick of his hand. With a gesture, two water bottles rose into the air and flew towards them, landing perfectly in their outstretched hands. Murmuring his thanks, Akutagawa cracked his open and drank, savoring the clear taste that washed away the blood that threatened to choke him. Speaking of which...

"Chuuya-san?" The man in question hummed and turned around, hair tie in mouth as he ran his fingers through his hair. Taking that as a sign to continue, Akutagawa bluntly asked, "How are you holding up?"

Chuuya froze for a moment, then seemingly ignored him, tying off his hair into a ponytail before sighing. "It's getting worse," he admitted, gripping his floating water bottle until it protested the strain. Akutagawa hesitated, then posed another question, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Chuuya looked at him again. His eyes looked tired; the bright blue turned dull. "I appreciate your concern, Akutagawa, but trust me, this isn't something you can simply talk away or kill." He paused, eyes straying from him. Curious, Akutagawa turned his head to the side. Seeing nothing, he looked back to Chuuya, starting with surprise when Chuuya's eyes turned into pinpricks of red. A startled blink later, they turned back to blue. "Chuuya-san–"

"It's nothing, Akutagawa," Chuuya waved off, walking towards the exit, "I've got a meeting soon, so we'll stop the session here. Don't forget to stretch afterwards." Before Akutagawa could interject, the door swung closed after Chuuya with a snap. Akutagawa hesitated, then silently walked over to the door, opening it and poking his head out warily. There was no sign of Chuuya. A sigh fell from his lips, and he returned to the center of the room, finishing his stretches. Perhaps he should talk to Gin about this. She had better people skills than him, anyway, so maybe she would know what to do.

There was no meeting. Chuuya slid the secret door closed as quickly as he could, breathing out a sigh as he flung himself into the armchair in the middle of the tiny room. Really, it hurt, having to push others away, yet ...

"Hiding from others again?"

Chuuya stiffened, then turned to pin the mirror on the far wall with a glare. His reflection smirked back, with eyes as red as freshly spilled blood, while black tendrils curled and uncurled around him not unlike Akutagawa's Rashoumon, just smokier.

"And what if I am?" Chuuya threw, glancing at the door of the room warily. With a flick of his hand, the lock clicked shut, preventing anyone from coming in. He focused back on his reflection.

"You're so... heroic, Chuuya-kun. Such a selfless act, not letting others see the pain that you feel," The reflection crooned, crossing his legs and leaning forward with a leer, "Yet you know it'll just be in vain anyway."

Chuuya gritted his teeth. He truly hated this part of his ability, the alter ego that came with using Corruption. Dealing with phantoms in the corners of his vision was already a headache, and fighting off the madness was a job and a half, but this, this dark manifestation of his ability? He'd rather put up with Dazai, and that was saying something, since he hated (loved) Dazai.

"It won't be in vain when you finally disappear after years of disuse." Chuuya shot back, irritation building as the reflection merely smirked in answer. He curled his fingers into a fist. It was true. (It had to be true.) Over the past four years, his reflection had merely stayed a reflection, rarely if ever surfacing during his darker moments. But there was still a sense of doubt. His reflection picked up on it instantly.

"I will never disappear, my dear Chuuya-kun," His eye twitched. "You have too much darkness in you to ever let me go." The reflection tilted its head to the side. "Besides, you fear Dazai too much to ever face him alone."

Chuuya sucked in a breath. His nails dug into his palm, cutting half-moons into the pale skin. The reflection's smile grew wider, almost gruesome in how it stretched its mouth. "Really, without me, you'd have perished a long time ago. Who was it who pushed you to meet up with Dazai on that glorious night? Who was it who gave you the strength to meet him again, and to banter as though nothing had changed?" Chuuya flinched, the roiling darkness growing stronger with each barbed word as the reflection got up, advancing on him. "Who's the one who comforts you, who smothers the fears, the fear that you will end up alone? That Dazai will leave you like he did four years ago?" Its eyes had turned black, as empty as Dazai's, sucking the light away like miniaturized black holes. The air was filled with tension so thick that one could cut it with a knife.

Then the moment passed, the reflection sitting back down on the chair with a sigh. "No matter," it waved a hand, dispelling the darkness. "You'll call upon me soon enough." Chuuya breathed back out again, then frowned. "What do you mean by that? There's no reason for me to use Corruption again." The reflection merely smiled back, before returning to its normal, natural state. "Oi!"

A buzz from his phone interrupted his attempted interrogation of the unresponsive reflection. With one last dirty look at the mirror, Chuuya turned his attention to the phone. Immediately, he sobered and accepted the call, seeing Mori's name on the screen. "Boss?"

"Come up to the office, Chuuya-san," A velvet voice answered, each syllable carefully enunciated. "I've got a new mission for you." Before he could answer, a dial tone sounded in his ear. Mori had hung up on him.

With a sigh, he got up from the armchair and headed to the office. Hopefully, the mission wouldn't be too bad. The reflection had to be wrong about Corruption. There was a snowball's chance in hell that he'd use it again. He was sure about that. Or at least, he hoped it wouldn't come to that.