nealuchi | the mirror, who loves you

Title: the mirror, who loves you
Fandom: Bungou to Alchemist
Character(s): Atsushi, Kyouka
Pairing(s): None
Genre: Angst
Word Count: 582
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: Atsushi’s reflection is always a step behind him.
Notes:

Atsushi’s reflection is always a step behind him. His eyes are bright and focused, and even when Atsushi looks away he can feel himself being watched. Other children tease him, but never near any reflecting surface, for the lake will bare its sharp teeth at them should they open their mouths.

He is most certainly a changeling, or otherwise fae-touched. His father is distant and his step-mother is more practical than wicked. There is no use in loving a changeling - they cannot love you back, not the way human children do - but going out of your way to mistreat them just leaves you with an unhappy eldritch being in your house, and when your punishments rebound on you threefold you can’t say you didn’t see it coming.

Atsushi is a sickly child, often combined to bed with his only company a hand mirror. He speaks to his reflection, too softly for other ears to hear.

I’m lonely. I miss you. I wish I could touch you and not just cold, silvered glass. Please come for me soon.

His reflection never answers in words, but when Atsushi presses his hand against the mirror, his reflection reaches back.

There is a boy. There is always a boy, or a girl, or someone in between. In this story there is a boy who goes pale at the slightest touch, whose gloves are always clean and white.

Kyouka is not afraid of Atsushi, or cruel to him. He writes beautiful stories and reads them out loud to Atsushi, and Atsushi sits at the lakeside and listens, enraptured. They talk of childish things. Atsushi invites him over to his house to play, and Kyouka insists that Atsushi bathe before he extends the same courtesy. Atsushi has been asked for worse.

Gradually, Atsushi speaks less and less to his own reflection, even when he is alone. His reflection watches Kyouka with fierce eyes, but says nothing.

One day Atsushi leaves Kyouka’s company, and the reflection stays behind. Kyouka pulls out his bag and scoops the reflection up, then ties a knot in it before the thrashing being can escape.

Atsushi’s hand sends ripples through the surface of the lake, but no hand comes to reach for his.

Perhaps it’s a good thing, Kyouka says. You could make more friends if your reflection didn’t scare them away. You don’t have to feel obligated to look too hard for it.

He was my friend, Atsushi says. My very first friend. For as long as I can remember he’s been with me. I want him back.

Kyouka thinks of the bag underneath his bed that shakes and writhes all night, and says nothing.

He no longer allows Atsushi into his home. Atsushi is too distressed over his reflection’s loss to play with Kyouka anyway.

Something calls to Atsushi in the dead of night. A voice. His voice.

“I’m lonely. I miss you. Please come for me soon.”

Atsushi rises from his bed, pulls his shoes on, and walks out into the night in his pajamas. He follows the voice as it gets louder and clearer.

“…come for me… cold, silvered glass…”

The voice is near deafening when he reaches Kyouka’s house. Atsushi doesn’t know how anyone could sleep through it. Compared to that, breaking a window is practically silent.

What are you doing, Kyouka says, panic driving the sleep out of his voice.

Atsushi says nothing. He reaches underneath Kyouka’s bed and unties the shaking bag.

He bares his sharp teeth.