Disclaimer: I will never own this thing. Unless I get a genie. But what if it's a reverse genie?

AN: There'll be an actual one at the bottom of this chapter concerning the future of Raiden.


He stared at himself.

Red eyes stared back at him.

His hand was raised. The reflection raised its hand. The reflection that looked almost nothing like him. That same hand mirrored him as he moved it to his head.

His hair wasn't like this before. Shouldn't be like this.

He just stared as he grabbed hold of the silver locks there. A handful. He released it as if it was a dangerous beast, something that would strike back. He reached for it again. He grabbed hold of it.

He pulled. He winced at the pain.

He pulled again. He closed his eyes at the pain.

He pulled again.

He settled for only a single strand afterward. He pulled it from his head without hesitation. It wasn't his. It couldn't be his. It had to be fake, a joke. The pain proved it was his, proved it wasn't fake, proved it belonged to him and only him.

The stranger in the mirror stared at him. He looked away, looked to the hair he held between his fingers instead.

He stared at it. Stared at the hair that wasn't his and his. He ignored his reflection, focused on what was in front of him instead. He focused only on the proof in front of him.

His free hand moved through the hair that wasn't his. It swept it back, pushed it back, and the reflection did the same. Red eyes stared past the hair, stared at him as much as he stared at it.

Neither moved.

Neither blinked.

He simply looked.

The reflection, the stranger, stared back at him.

He dropped his hand. The reflection did the same, let the hair fall in the sink. He turned his face, stared at his jaw.

His fingers lightly grazed it.

The reflection, the stranger, copied him.

He pressed his fingers to his cheek and pushed up, watched it rise through the eye on that side before it was forced to close.

The stranger mocked him. A single red eye stared back at him. Two stared at him as he released his face, opened his eye again.

He turned his face the other way. Let his hand travel across it. The reflection did the same. The stranger copied him again.

He stared.

Red eyes stared back.

He reached out.

The stranger reached out.

He touched the cool surface of the glass. The stranger did the same.

He pulled away.

A metal hand grabbed hold of his wrist. Clawed fingers dug into his skin. He braced his hand on the counter and pulled. The vice was unyielding, offered nothing. Red eyes flashed.

CRACK

"Ichika!" The sound of broken glass made her break down the door.

She found him hunched over the sink, his entire body trembling. Blood dotted the sink as much as the shattered glass filled the bowl. She spotted the source in an unbroken portion of the mirror.

Ichika cradled one hand to his chest for a reason after all. It was probably full of glass.

"I'm sorry..." His shaking voice snapped her out of her analysis of the scene. She moved out of the empty doorway and towards him. He was shaking, his hair hiding his eyes from her. "I-I didn't mean to do that."

"It doesn't matter." She stopped next to him, held out her hands. "Let me see your hand."

"I-It's fine." He didn't draw it away. He didn't even look at her. She could see his tears splatter on the sink. Them and the growing drops of blood. "You can go to sleep."

"Let me see your hand Ichika." She wasn't leaving. He had to know that.

"I'll clean up later." He was acting as if she wasn't speaking to him. He wouldn't rise up, wouldn't even look at her. She didn't even know if his eyes were open still. He was trembling right in front of her, bleeding right in front of her, crying right in front of her, and he expected her to leave him like this.

"Don't make me get my shinai." She stopped asking. She gently reached for his hand, wrapped hers around his, ignored the warm blood already covering hers, and gently pried his hand free from his red chest.

She moved one hand away to open a nearby drawer as she examined his hand. Silvers of glassed dotted around where he had punched the mirror. She expected it. She began to work with the tweezers she pulled out.

TING

One bloody silver of glass dropped onto the counter.

"I still can't believe Cecilia dueled you for such a petty reason. I don't even think she wanted to be class rep." She focuses on his hand, on the next silver of glass lodged in his fist.

TING.

"She's lucky I didn't fight her. I would have destroyed her in a second." The next was found, grabbed by the tweezers between her fingers.

TING.

"Too focused on long range. Useless if she doesn't have any real support. Two on two? Any team vs team events? She could win any fight for her side. Enough time to actually charge up her shots with someone competent working with her. Me for example."

TING.

TING.

TING.

Three came out as she spoke, dropped onto the growing bloody collection on the sink. She didn't focus on it, focused on how many she had left instead.

"She would be great to whittle down shields before a strong finishing blow. Or be the finisher herself. She's no doubt prettystrong, being the England Rep and all."

TING.

"...I could still probably beat her...Easy..."

TING.

The last piece was gone. She dropped the blood tipped tweezers to the counter.

"...Ichika..." She grabbed his glass free hand, ignored the blood coming from it. She didn't look at him, focused on his hand. "We...we need to clean it now. Your hand."

She pulled his bloody hand to the sink, placed it under the faucet. She used the back of her free hand to turn on the hot water.

"We need to make sure there's no pieces left. Do you feel anymore?"

"..." He didn't answer her. She had hoped he would at least nod but he hadn't looked up since she had come in, hadn't looked away from the blood.

"Ichika, is there any more glass in your hand?"

"..." Silence greeted her again.

She searched for herself.

She found a single stubborn silver, hidden away in the space between his fingers.

"Hold still." She shut the water off, grabbed the tweezers with her wet hand. "This one will hurt. It's in pretty deep."

She lifted his hand up, grabbed hold of the small portion of exposed glass. She gave it a gentle pull, hoping to dislodge it nice and easy. It stubbornly held on. Like she expected.

"This may take a while." She didn't want to wriggle it, do any more damage, so gently pulled at it again. It gave ground to her.

"...I'm sorry about the mirror..." Ichika finally spoke again. Houki acknowledged it by pulling sharply on the glass.

It slid free.

"And I thought I had to make that painful." She washed his hand of blood again, washed hers as well. "I'll find something to wrap your hand with."

"No...I can find something..." Houki narrowed her eyes at him.

"You sound off. Are you sure you're alright?" Her fingers left his hands and went to his throat, checked his pulse. She stared at him, pressed hard enough to give him the message.

He lifted his head.

She stared into red ruby red eyes. She rose her finger on her free hand up, moved it back and forth in front of him. He followed it without difficulty.

"I'm thinking about getting a flashlight...Do I need to Ichika?" Houki was surprised when he suddenly smiled at her.

"You would make a great doctor." She figured she turned as red as his eyes.

"I-Idiot." She withdrew her hands and pulled back. She was suddenly very mindful of the fact she was just in her sleepwear. "D-Don't say things like that." She didn't storm out the bathroom. She may have turned away but she glanced out of the corner of her eyes at him. "Do you promise not to punch anymore mirrors?"

"Yes." He nodded as he looked to the fractured mirror. Looked at the dozens of strangers in front of him.

"Then come on." She grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him out the bathroom. "I'll finish with you in the room."

He wordlessly followed.

She coaxed him onto her bed for now as she began tearing one of his shirts into strips. He was careful to keep his hand up, Houki gently wrapping the improvised bandage around it.

"There, that should do it for now. We'll take you to the infirmary tomorrow but for now you should live through the night." She looked him over once more.

"Y-You lost a lot of blood so, j-just for tonight, you can sleep on my bed. Just because you can go into shock or something and I wouldn't know until morning." She watched him lay down, ignored how red her face. "D-Don't even think about trying anything."

"Thank you Houki." The gratitude in his voice made her sigh as she laid down next to him.

A respectful distance between them obvious.

"Your sister put me in charge of you and she's terrifying when she's mad. Trust me, I'm saving myself a lot of pain taking care of you." She reached out, ran a hand through his swept back silver hair.

"I'm styling that for you in the morning."

"What? Why?"

"You need a certain style to pull off silver hair obviously. Do you know anything some times?"

"I never knew that. Who says I have to anyway?"

"I do. Now go to sleep."

She closed her eyes, purposely feigned sleep. He stared at her for a moment before chuckling.

"Good night Houki."

Red eyes drifted close.

CRACK

They snapped open when he heard glass shatter.

"What the? Houki?" The girl was absent. He glanced to the nearby clock. He was usually the first one up at this time.

CRACK

He threw himself out of bed when he heard glass break again.

"H-Houki, what are you doing?" It was the only thing to ask as he stared at the bathroom. Stared at Houki's recent "renovations" to it.

The mirror he had partially broken last night was simply gone now, shattered into countless pieces by Houki's expertly wielded shinai. The weapon was held in a white knuckle grip at the moment, the glass leaving its mark on the solid wood.

"Meh, we need to replace the mirror anyway right?" She shrugged her shoulders, let the shinai rest at her side, and walked out the bathroom. "I'll clean it up after we get back from class. You better help me with my hair since you broke it last night Ichika."

The girl spoke no more, left to go get ready actually, and Ichika only stared at the now clear wall in front of him.

There was no stranger to stare back now.

He swept his hand back through his silver hair. He didn't know if he should be relieved or worried about what just happened, what Houki had done for no reason. He settled for neither. He turned and left the bathroom.

"Don't you have to help me with mine? You're the one who told me I don't wear it right anymore!"

"After mine! Now hurry up and get in here! You better remember how to do this right or that mirror won't be the only thing broken."


AN: Raiden has not been updated for years because I don't have a lot of focus for it. Full disclosure there. I hardly know anything about the story of Infinite Stratos, hardly care to research it for what was a one off for a harem anime, and still really don't care to research it. So yeah, don't really get your hopes up for this thing actually being updated on any type of schedule (like anything I write). If there's any desire to see it updated more often, contact me through PM or something. Offer information on what exactly happens in Infinite Stratos so I can at least know how Raiden effects the story (more than I already know and that's not a lot). Hell, if you want to, ask to adopt it and I'll gladly tell you my general plans for this thing. I have a general plan for this story but that's about it. An ending is kind of there but it's not exactly there. It's been a rough thing I've been working on whenever I get the feeling to.

And this has turned into a ramble. Apologies.

Long story short: Raiden isn't a main focus. Don't expect a lot from me about it. If you want to know about it, contact me.

Peace.