Chapter Text
The rain hadn’t let up in three days.
Thin, steady drops clung to every surface outside: the iron railings, the sagging telephone lines, the grey-tiled rooftops. Even the school windows sweated from the humidity, streaked with mist and breath-smudged fingerprints.
Kagamine Rin hated this kind of weather — not because it was cold, but because it made everything feel slower. Sleepier. Like the whole world had dipped just below the surface of water and was waiting to be forgotten.
She rested her chin against her hand, the corner of her notebook digging into her wrist. The numbers on the page in front of her blurred and twisted into nonsense.
But just before she could fall asleep, a ruler tapped sharply against her desk.
"Midterm reviews are not optional, Kagamine," Meiko-sensei said without looking up, already striding past. "That goes for both of you."
Len startled upright and dropped his pencil anyway.
"Geez," he mumbled, catching it. "She’s got radar."
"She has ears," Rin replied, trying to refocus on her notes. “Unlike you.”
Len leaned sideways in his chair, voice low. “You look like you didn’t sleep again.”
Rin didn’t answer. She hadn’t. Not really. The past few nights had all blurred together — one of them, maybe Thursday, she’d woken up around 3 a.m. and couldn’t go back to sleep. She’d sat on her bed for what felt like hours, listening to the rain and staring at her reflection in the closet mirror across the room.
She didn’t remember what she’d been thinking about. Just that it had felt quiet. Too quiet.
“I’m fine,” she said finally, eyes down.
Lunchtime came. The cafeteria was loud — louder than usual, thanks to the rain keeping everyone indoors. Rin found her usual seat by the window, sliding her tray down without much ceremony.
“Rice again?” Luka raised an eyebrow, stabbing at her salad. “Don’t you ever eat anything with color?”
“It’s got pickled plum,” Rin offered. “That’s red.”
“Barely.”
Luka Megurine was two years older and easily the most elegant girl in school, with long rose-pink hair and an air of unbothered disapproval. She wasn't technically in their friend group — but somehow, she always ended up at the same table. People didn't argue with Luka. Not because she was mean, but because it never worked.
Kaito flopped into the seat beside her, hair damp and sticking up at odd angles.
“It’s flooding in the gym,” he announced. “Saw a whole shoe floating past the equipment closet.”
“Is that why you look like a drowned towel?” Luka asked.
He wiped his face with his sleeve. “It’s character-building.”
“You should build character in dry socks.”
Rin smiled faintly and picked at her rice. Across from her, Len was mid-rant about some club mishap that she only half-listened to.
At the end of the table, Meiko — not their teacher, but the older third-year who happened to share the same name — was scrolling through something on her phone. She glanced up and gave Rin a lazy smile.
“You look a little pale,” she said.
“Do I?”
Meiko nodded. “You okay?”
Rin nodded. “Yeah. Just didn’t sleep much.”
“Too much studying?”
“Mm.” She didn’t bother explaining further.
Meiko watched her for a second longer than necessary before shrugging and returning to her phone.
By the time the last period ended, the rain had gotten heavier again. Most students groaned at the sight of it through the windows — especially the ones without umbrellas. Rin walked home with Len, who carried his over both of them. His bag knocked against her shoulder with every step, but she didn’t complain.
"Hey," he said halfway through the walk. "You're sure you're alright?"
She gave him a look.
"I'm serious," he added. "You’re not spacing out just in class. You've been... quiet. More than usual."
She hesitated. “Do you ever think… your reflection looks weird?”
Len blinked. “Weird how?”
“Like…” She struggled to find the right words. “Like it’s not copying you exactly. Like it’s just a little too slow. Or like it’s thinking something you’re not.”
He stared at her.
“I mean, probably not,” she muttered quickly. “Just tired, like I said.”
“Maybe lay off the horror manga,” he said. “You're starting to sound like Miku.”
That name made her pause.
Hatsune Miku had been in their class the year before, though she’d withdrawn halfway through the second term. People said she’d transferred schools — or moved away. Or gotten sick. No one really knew for sure.
But Rin remembered her. Long turquoise hair. A strange, distant way of talking. Sometimes Miku had stared at mirrors too long.
Sometimes, Rin had caught her whispering to them.
“She wasn’t that weird,” Rin said quietly.
Len tilted the umbrella back to glance at her. “Did you talk to her?”
Rin didn’t answer.
They walked the rest of the way in silence before each parted their way.
That evening, Rin sat on her bed with her knees drawn up, textbook open in front of her and pen held loosely in her hand.
The closet mirror stood across the room, tall and faintly fogged from the warmth of her breath.
She looked into it casually — just to check.
There she was, of course. Blond hair slightly rumpled, hoodie sleeves pushed up, a faint frown on her face. Exactly the way she felt.
Still…
She rose and crossed the room slowly, standing in front of the glass.
Her reflection stared back.
She turned her head left, then right. Tilted her chin up. Blinked.
Everything matched. Everything was normal.
She stepped a little closer.
The mirror was clean, but a faint blur around the edges of the reflection made the glass seem… soft. Like something remembered, not directly seen. Or like she wasn’t quite looking at herself, but at a version of her caught in the middle of thinking something she hadn't said yet.
Rin raised a hand to the glass.
She didn’t touch it — not yet.
Instead, she leaned in just a little and whispered, “Hi.”
Her reflection mouthed the same thing back, in perfect sync.
Still, Rin’s stomach twisted, just slightly.
She turned away and flicked off the light.
As she pulled the blankets over her shoulder, she didn’t look back at the mirror.
She didn’t want to see what it was doing when she wasn’t watching.