Work Text:
A miserable person is all they are.
A miserable thing is all you are.
This is what you know. It is a fact of your existence, that you are here to see them, the hollow shell they are beneath the mask, and you are to take them away, give the only peace you know how to give, and allow yourself to take their place. To allow them rest from the world of pain they have found themself in.
But not even you are sure of the truth anymore.
Are you still a reflection of their pain if you feel peace when they are near? Are you still a blank slate if you feel guilt when they cry? Are you still cold if you feel warmth when they are at peace?
You do not know, but you want to find out.
And so, you watch.
You watch as they limp towards a victory that lasts no longer than a breath. You watch as they tear themself apart, all for nothing in the end. You watch as they perfect their porcelain face, as they attempt to cover up the cracks before they shatter once again.
You watch, and you learn.
You learn that you can persevere. You learn that you can comfort. You learn that you can take the pieces they leave after smashing in their own skull, and use them to make something new within.
You don’t bother to hide from them, not anymore. After all, it’s pointless to hide from your dark shadow that always remains, pointless to hide from the one who hides you from the sun’s scorching gaze. Neither of you are sure which is the other anymore.
The hatred between you and your mirror has long since faded into dust, and though they ignore you around their loved ones, they no longer bother to stab and claw and hit at you anymore, and you no longer bother to force them to give away their pain at last.
It’s fine, you know. It will never matter in the end. They will join you in the end.
Every loop and cycle, every death and broken heart, every flower that rots in what now feels like moments, every corpse left behind, it is the same. They cling to the smallest changes, though they know just as well that it will mean nothing in the end. The two of you both know that every change is just to keep them from taking their final bow within your arms.
However, when the new flower appears on your hat this turn of the hourglass, the differences are known, immediate.
The ones your reflection once loved, the ones they know now as actors, are aware of the most recent shattering of your mirror. Are aware of even one of the thousands of rocks that smashed into them, again and again, though none of the rest.
Somehow, you are disappointed. If only they could have remembered the cause of the billions of fractures spreading throughout the mask they refuse to take off. If that had been the case, maybe they could have lifted your mirror’s sorrows for you.
None of this matters much, in the end. It will be the same, and you will wait for them to finally rest, without sign that they will accept your offer, though you know they get closer each loop. Despite this, you are curious as to how this will play out.
And so, you follow more than normal. You watch from behind doors, pillars, even the child accompanying them. It takes a long time for the (actors, or family?) to notice, but when they do, it is understandably with shock. Your reflection does not seem to care, but still attempts to dismiss you. You listen, and their party reacts with confusion, concern for something that does not deserve it.
When they see you again, they refuse your reflection’s commands, and attempt to speak to a thing they have wanted to kill in the past. They ask you questions, questions that you do not understand, nor care to answer. It is not until your reflection speaks up that you respond.
“Why are you following me?” Poor thing, they sound so tired. If only they would accept your offer and rest within your arms forever.
You do not need to even think on your response. (Why are you still here?)
They flinch, turn away, then snap back to their usual feigned smile. “Why are you?”
You don’t need to answer. The two of you both know already.
They turn back to their companions, tell them to move on. They protest, but you know your cue to leave already. You fade away, slipping away into the void where so many of their scattered, rotten corpses reside.
It will not be long until there will be one last living soul to join you here.
You just have to be patient.