XVIII.Are you lying to me?
The heavy air in the rest chamber shifted the moment the door creaked open.
"Helloooooooooo~!!"
A sing-song voice bounced in, louder than necessary, too cheerful for a room that reeked of exhaustion and sarcasm.
Rea Caelumotris practically skipped into the chamber, silver-blue twintails bouncing behind her, two cold bottles clutched in her hands. Beads of condensation rolled down their sides like little trails of joy.
She spotted Silas first.
"Brother unit acquired!"
Then she saw the second figure beside him.
Her eyes lit up.
"Oooooh! Bonus content unlocked!"
She beamed.
"Fuuka-chan's here toooo?! This room suddenly feels three times more important!"
She hurried over without a shred of hesitation, coming to a bouncing stop in front of the pair. Then, without missing a beat, she shoved one of the energy drinks directly into Silas's hand—
—and offered the other bottle toward Fuuka with both palms like a ceremonial gift.
"Here! It was supposed to be for me, but I'm feeling absurdly hydrated today. So—take it, take it!"
Fuuka blinked once, staring at the bottle in silence for a second.
"…No need," she said gently. "You should keep it. You must be tired from the match."
Rea's smile didn't falter even a little.
"Tired? Nahhh! That was practically a warm-up. Like, c'mon—did you see my opponents? I barely had to blink in sequential order."
Fuuka sighed.
Then lifted her hand—pushed the bottle lightly back toward Rea's chest.
"Still. Take care of yourself first."
Rea pouted dramatically.
"Awww. You're so mean in a gentle way."
She shrugged and unscrewed the cap with a satisfying psssht, then raised the bottle like she was toasting a ghost audience.
"Cheers to responsibility I guess~!"
She took a long, energetic gulp.
Silas, now holding his bottle, looked down at it for a moment.
Then opened it with one hand and quietly took a sip.
He didn't say anything.
But he drank.
And somehow, the room felt just slightly lighter.
For a brief moment, the room fell into a rare, comfortable silence.
Rea still sipped at her drink with both hands like it was some festival soda, her legs swinging lightly off the edge of the bench.
Fuuka, arms folded, glanced to the side toward the window.
Her voice broke the calm—quiet, but direct.
"By the way,what about Blanche and her team?"
Rea blinked.
Then looked up toward the ceiling, as if mentally scrolling through an internal map.
"Hmm… they're probably almost here," she said after a moment. "Blanche isn't the type to give up halfway through anything. Especially not this."
Fuuka tilted her head slightly.
"You sound confident."
"Of course I am," Rea chirped. "It's Blanche."
Fuuka leaned her cheek on one hand, fingers resting near her temple.
"I don't know her."
Her tone wasn't judgmental—just honest.
"Only know the Equinox name. Their family. Titles. Academic achievements. The usual report-level facts."
She paused, then asked plainly—
"So what is she like?"
Rea grinned, resting her bottle against her knee.
"Blanche?" she echoed. "Mm… let's see."
She tapped the bottle cap rhythmically with one finger.
"She's the kind of person who's calm even when everything's going sideways. Always composed, always sounds like she's reading from a perfectly written speech—even when she's half-dead tired."
"She's smart," Rea added. "But never rubs it in anyone's face. Just does her thing. Quiet, steady."
"And strict. Like really strict."
"Not in a mean way—just… principled. Like if you tell her there's a schedule, she'll memorize it faster than the person who made it. If you give her a job, she'll finish it before asking what it's for."
Fuuka nodded slowly, absorbing that.
Rea smiled again, a little softer this time.
"She's been like that since we were kids, y'know. Super neat, super serious, super 'By-the-book Blanche'."
"I used to prank her all the time."
"Of course you did," Silas murmured, dry.
Rea shot him a proud grin.
"But somehow… somehow she always dodged it. Or outsmarted it. Or turned it back on me."
She huffed, half in admiration, half in exaggerated offense.
"Honestly, it's not even fun messing with her anymore. She's like anti-chaos personified."
Fuuka raised an eyebrow.
"And yet… you still try?."
Rea winked.
"It's tradition."
Rea was still grinning, half-lidded, with a hint of sugar in her voice.
Silas didn't respond—not verbally, at least. His eyes flicked once toward Fuuka, who had since leaned slightly back, arms crossed now, gaze tilted toward the ceiling like she'd run out of energy to argue.
And then—
A strange sound.
Soft.
A shimmer. Like glass under pressure.
A faint crackle in the air—so subtle it might've been imagined. But Silas sat up straighter instantly.
Fuuka's face—shifted.
Not her expression.
Her very structure.
For a moment, her cheek fractured. Not with blood or bone, but like a mirror breaking from within. A silent line split her jaw to her temple, the shard-thin edge glowing faintly with mana. Her eyes didn't change. Her voice didn't rise.
She merely reached up with one hand, touched her temple—
And blinked.
"...Time's up."
Rea blinked. "Huh?"
Fuuka rose smoothly to her feet, as if she'd just remembered something she forgot on the stove.
"The mirror construct's limit is approaching. I can't maintain it any longer."
Rea's mouth opened a bit, then shaped into an "O."
She looked sideways at Silas, who was already calmly setting his half-empty bottle aside.
Neither of them seemed shocked.
Of course they weren't.
"Wait," Rea said, pointing dramatically. "So you weren't really here?!"
"Correct," Fuuka answered softly.
Another line fractured down her wrist, the skin breaking like calm water into angular pieces of light.
"This version was a Reflection. A projection."
"That's cheating!" Rea protested, voice more amused than offended. "I gave you real juice!"
"I didn't drink it," Fuuka said flatly.
Silas stood as well, brushing off the back of his coat. "Thanks for stopping by."
Fuuka—still crackling, her body now barely holding form—offered a polite, slow nod. The mirror shimmer along her shoulder began to pulse, like starlight trapped in glass.
"Don't be reckless again," she said to Rea, quiet but direct.
"You sound like my brother," Rea huffed.
"I know," Fuuka replied.
Then, to Silas—just a glance. No words.
He nodded once.
That was enough.
A second later, the Reflection collapsed—softly, silently—into a thousand shards of mirrored mana, scattering through the air like dew turned to stars. They blinked out one by one, leaving only stillness behind.
—
Somewhere Else — Back at Sylvan Grounds Broadcast Tower
The room was colder here not in temperature. Just... in atmosphere.
Inside the broadcast observatory, where high-angle crystal projectors and spectral monitoring glyphs lined the walls, the real Minase Fuuka stood.
Still.
Unmoving.
Watching.
Her expression was unreadable—same as ever—but her hands remained clasped behind her back as she observed the live projection of Sylvan Grounds through an arcane lens embedded in the wall. She hadn't said a word since the Reflection dissipated.
To her left, Izanami Yuki sat elegantly beside the main desk—legs crossed, a book in one hand, glancing toward the side monitor with half-interest.
To Fuuka's right, Aria Cross balanced upside down on a swivel chair, clearly trying to stay quiet, but failing by the minute.
Neither of them noticed neither realized that the real Fuuka had never moved from this room. she'd been here the whole time the one who spoke with Silas who tossed the towel who asked about Blanche.
Just a Reflection.
Nothing more than glass with a voice.
Fuuka reached out, slowly, and turned down the volume on one of the side projection crystals. The motion was fluid. Routine.
Yuki didn't notice.
Aria kept talking.
And Fuuka?
She simply returned to her seat face calm eyes fixed on the monitor again like nothing had happened no one would know no one would ask not unless they were sharp enough to catch the shimmer in her iris or the faint delay in her gestures.
Because in the end—
Mirrors don't explain themselves.
They just reflect.
And Minase Fuuka?
She reflected everything even the parts she chose not to show.