Part 1 — Supervised Steps
The night was heavy, as though the air itself refused to move.
Shinomiya Reiji stepped beyond the broken gates of the shrine, the faint sound of cicadas replaced by an unsettling silence. The only thing he carried from that accursed place was a single word, carved into the back of his mind like a scar that would never fade:
鏡 (Kagami) — Mirror.
The syllables lingered, whispering in the hollows of his chest. Each step he took down the crumbling stone path seemed to echo louder than it should have, reverberating against the forest around him. It wasn't just sound. It was the feeling of being accompanied by something he couldn't see.
His grip tightened on the hilt of his blade.
He had lived long enough to trust instincts over reason, and his instincts screamed to him now:
He was not alone.
The shrine's shadow stretched far behind him, bleeding into the treeline. The moonlight painted fractured silhouettes on the ground, and for a moment he thought he saw one move before he did.
Reiji froze.
His own shadow—thin, dark, and elongated—shifted half a breath out of sync.
He blinked, forcing his mind to steady. Perhaps it was exhaustion. Perhaps it was the shrine's lingering curse. But when he stepped forward again, the shadow hesitated, then followed.
"…Tch." His breath was sharp. "So it begins."
---
Part 2: The First Reflection
The path descended into an abandoned clearing. Moss and broken stone littered the ground, as if the forest itself was reclaiming ruins long forgotten. The air grew colder, each breath trailing mist that curled and vanished too quickly.
And then, it happened.
A ripple across reality—like glass cracking beneath invisible weight.
From the corner of his eye, he saw it: a figure stepping forward, torn from the flatness of his own shadow.
It was him.
The same blade.
The same black eyes, though darker, emptier, void of even the faint ember of humanity that still clung to him.
The reflection smirked, though Reiji's lips never moved.
"…A trick?" Reiji muttered, circling slowly.
The mirror-image tilted its head, expression unreadable. And then, in a voice identical to his own, it spoke:
"You call yourself a seeker of truth… but all you've ever been is a murderer looking for an excuse."
The words struck like a blade sharper than steel.
Reiji's jaw tightened, but he raised his sword. "If you are my shadow… then I'll cut you down the same way I've cut every obstacle in my path."
The reflection laughed—a hollow, broken sound.
"Cut me down? You can't. Because I am you."
---
Part 3:Blades in the Dark
The battle began with no signal.
Steel clashed against steel, sparks scattering into the cold air. Each strike was mirrored with precision; each step answered by the other. The rhythm was maddening—fighting himself was fighting inevitability.
Reiji lunged. His reflection lunged.
Their blades locked in the center, faces inches apart.
"You think you're seeking redemption," the reflection hissed, "but tell me—how many faces have you forgotten already? How many screams do you ignore just to keep breathing?"
Reiji snarled, pushing forward with raw force. "Shut your mouth."
But the reflection didn't falter.
It parried, spun, and delivered a cut across Reiji's cheek—drawing the first blood.
The warmth of it sliding down his skin wasn't just pain. It was memory.
Faces. Children. Innocents. The weight of every blade he had drawn, every life he had taken in the name of survival, revenge, or purpose.
He staggered back, vision flickering. The reflection's eyes gleamed with victory.
"See? You hesitate because you know I'm right. You are nothing but a killer hiding in the skin of a man who thinks he deserves answers."