Cracks in the Mirror
The sun had begun to set, casting long shadows across the schoolyard. Most students had already left, leaving the corridors quiet except for the soft squeaks of cleaning shoes and the occasional clang of lockers being shut.
Lily sat on a bench under the trees near the back gate, her bag resting at her side. The breeze played with her hair, but she barely noticed.
She was thinking about Yuki.
About how he looked at her like he almost knew.
About how he remembered feelings without memory.
It scared her — and comforted her — in the same breath.
"You always were a sunset person."
Lily turned.
Mira.
She stood there in her blazer, arms crossed, eyes scanning Lily with a strange softness — and something else. Something… uncertain.
"You remember that?" Lily asked, trying to sound casual.
Mira walked over and sat beside her. "Of course I do. You used to ask me to stay after school just to watch the sky change colors. Said it made you feel alive, even when you couldn't move much."
Lily gave a small nod. She didn't trust her voice to say more.
"But now…" Mira glanced sideways. "You don't look like someone trying to feel alive. You look like someone trying to remember what it means."
Lily's fingers curled around the bench.
That was too close. Too on-the-nose.
"You've changed, Lily," Mira said gently. "Not just stronger. Not just walking. You're… sharper. Quieter in a way that feels heavier. And today in class — when Mr. Inoue went off on that equation? You corrected him. Fluently. Since when do you even like math?"
Lily hesitated.
"I studied when I was stuck in bed," she lied, voice calm. "There wasn't much else to do."
Mira didn't look convinced.
"That's not it," she said after a pause. "You look at people differently. Like you're watching. Measuring. That boy who bumped into you during break? You didn't flinch. You squared up. Lily… never would've done that."
The silence that followed was too loud.
"I'm just tired," Lily whispered.
"No," Mira said softly, "you're not just tired. You're carrying something."
Lily's chest tightened.
She wanted to tell her. Everything. That she wasn't Lily — not really. That the real Lily had given up her life for her brother. That the girl Mira was speaking to was a ghost wearing her best friend's skin.
But how do you explain something like that?
How do you say, the person you loved died… and I took her place?
So instead, Lily looked away and whispered, "Do you… still see the same person when you look at me?"
Mira turned her head. Her voice, when it came, was soft — and terribly honest.
"…I don't know."
The wind picked up.
"I want to," she added, almost too quietly to hear. "But something in me says you're not the same. Not completely."
Then she stood, brushing imaginary dust from her skirt. "But whoever you are… I still care about you. Maybe even more than before."
Lily looked up, startled.
Mira offered a small smile. "So… when you're ready to talk about what you're hiding, I'll be here."
Then she walked away, leaving Ethan — Lily — frozen on the bench with a heart full of confusion, grief, and something warm and terrifying rising in his chest.
Maybe she wasn't entirely fooled.
Maybe she never was.