𝙃𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙏 || 𝘼𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙠𝙤𝙪𝙟𝙞 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 || 𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚

12 Pt 2

[Name] stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, confusion and frustration twisting her features. Her own face stared back, but it felt distant, unfamiliar, as if it belonged to someone else. "What is wrong with me?" she whispered, her voice barely cutting through the low, persistent buzz of the overhead bathroom light. The words sounded hollow, as though they dissolved in the cold air around her before they could reach her ears.

Her fingers clenched tightly around the tube of toothpaste, knuckles turning pale from the force. She was trying to steady herself, trying to latch onto something real, something simple—like brushing her teeth, an act so mundane it might just pull her from the whirlwind thoughts of her mind.

But of course that betrayed her.

Not long ago, she had kicked Ayanokouji out of her dorm room, his presence still lingering in the air like a ghost. His words echoed in her head, sharp and clear despite their softness. They hadn't been harsh, yet they cut deep in a way that left her breathless.

'Because you're important to me.'

The way he said it had unsettled her.
Yet, hearing it felt like a strike to her core, and for reasons she couldn't quite grasp it.

She didn't understand why, but something in the way Ayanokouji spoke reminded her of her dream—no, her nightmare. The one where he wasn't him at all, but a warped version of him, twisted by her own fears.
Don't get her wrong, she knew Ayanokouji wasn't the one in the dream, but lately, his presence, the way he made her feel—it was suffocating. The nightmare only amplified it.

And everything else she was going through... it all cut too deep, carving away at her composure.

"He didn't do anything wrong..."she muttered, her frown deepening as she gripped the sink's edge. "So why...?"

Her thoughts spiraled downward, coiling tighter and tighter, like vines choking the light from her mind. She searched desperately for an answer, but nothing came.

Just emptiness.

Then, like a venomous snake slithering up from the darkest corners of her mind, a voice whispered to her.

"It's because you're scared."

She froze.

Her eyes darted back to the mirror, but what stared back wasn't right. Her reflection was wrong. Its lips curled into a slow, eerie smile—one she wasn't wearing. It was a smile too sharp, too knowing, too cruel to belong to her. Her heart pounded in her chest, a violent thud that echoed in her ears.

The figure in the mirror wore a flowing white dress, pristine at the top but bleeding into a pitch-black void at the hem, as if the darkness itself was swallowing her whole. Around its neck, a silver chain glinted in the dim light, the metal tight and suffocating.

[Name] felt her breath catch in her throat. "What the...?" she whispered, her voice trembling as her fingers tightened on the sink.

The reflection tilted its head, the smile widening unnaturally, as if it were savoring the moment.
Its voice—her voice, yet not hers—oozed with cold amusement. "Actually, if we're being honest..." It spoke slowly, deliberately, relishing each word. "You're not just scared. You hate the truth, don't you? That everyone's right about you. That you're weak. That you're easily controlled."