Mirror Match

As the night deepened, the sound of running water filled the kitchen. Crow stood at the sink with his sleeves rolled up, scrubbing and rinsing plates, utensils, and pans.

Hinata stood beside him, towel in hand, drying each dish as it came her way. No fuss. She worked quickly and efficiently.

With a grin, Crow handed her the last spoon. “Not bad. You’re getting the hang of domestic life.”

“What do you mean? This isn’t that hard,” she replied, her voice dry.

He chuckled, turning off the tap as Hinata dried the last spoon. She draped the towel over his shoulder like a joke.

“I want to see her.”

Crow’s eyebrows arched at the sudden request. “...Her who?”

“The one from a game. Dylan mentioned it.”

His grip on the towel tightened slightly.

“W-what? When? How?” Crow froze. His stomach churned as if he had been gutted.

“What is this, an interview? Show me, now.”

Crow deflated inside.

“DYLAN, YOU TRAITOROUS SLIME—ONE SECRET. ONE. YOU ABSOLUTE RAT KING.”

Crow cleared his throat. “Y-you know, you… I mean, she… not really worth seeing. Old version. Totally inaccurate. Wanna go out for karaoke instead? All on me, whatever you want,” he said, desperately trying to bail.

Hinata crossed her arms.

“No? Okay, we can go to—”

“No.”

Crow let out a long, theatrical sigh. “Fine… What a tyrant.”

“And you’re a coward. Move.”

— • —

The PC flickered to life, Crow hoping for it to crash. Blue screen. Power outage.

But not this time.

He launched the game, effects exploding into sparks, steel, and an aggressive guitar riff.

Crow tried to skip the intro. He failed.

“See? Even the game’s mocking me,” he muttered.

Behind him, Hinata stood, radiating quiet judgment.

“Keep stalling,” she replied. “We have all night.”

The character screen loaded. And there she was.

Kanno Hinata.

Same face. Same hair. Same blue eyes.

Crop-top jacket. Over-accessorized belt. Impractical boots. She winked at the camera and finger-gunned.

“You ready for a flashy beatdown?”

Hinata stared at her reflection.

“…That’s me.”

Crow sank into the chair, mumbling, “Like I said. Loosely inspired.”

Hinata leaned forward, squinting. “Why is she acting like a cheerleader?”

Before Crow could answer, Hinata moved even closer to the screen. “Move her around.”

With a sigh, he grabbed the stick and moved it in all directions. His movements were fluid, but Hinata didn’t care about that at all.

She stared at her avatar’s chest. Her brows furrowed, nerves twitching.

“That wobbling—is that normal?” she remarked, her disgust evident.

Crow shrugged. “Fan service? Marketing? I didn’t design her. Please stop looking at me like that.”

She pointed at the screen. “Is that a belt on her arm?”

“It’s cosmetic—”

“What’s it holding up? Her ego?”

Crow winced.

“Show me how she fights,” Hinata demanded.

“…Do I have to?”

She didn’t waver. “Do it.”

Ranked matches began. Crow played, trying to keep his composure. But Hinata watching made it impossible.

In-Game Hinata twirled, leapt, and launched into a long, sparkling whirlwind kick.

“What was that?” Real Hinata said. “That’s a ballet audition gone wrong.”

Crow groaned, waiting to die.

Then, a backflip-uppercut combo.

“Why do that? What is this—contemporary violence?”

And a high-middle spinning backhand.

“Did she just slap his ass?”

She crossed her arms again, calm but incredulous. “Unbelievable. I can beat her with arms and legs tied.”

Crow exhaled. “She’d uninstall herself if she saw you.”

The screen continued to loop pixel-perfect poses.

Game Hinata flashed a victory sign. Real Hinata remained unimpressed.

Crow slumped in his chair, spiritually concussed.

Different worlds. Same face. Only one of them was real.

And the real one… didn’t need help holding anything up.

— • —

Crow played a few more matches, and Hinata stayed.

She didn’t understand much, but she noticed he was struggling.

“Why do you keep losing?” she asked.

Crow’s hands moved subconsciously. “Uh, not really sure how to answer that.”

DEFEAT. Again.

Crow exhaled deeply with frustration. Hinata looked at him quietly.

“Here’s the thing. Characters are unofficially classified into tiers based on strength.”

“Rankings, you mean?” she replied.

“Something like that.”

Crow pulled out a fan tier list website, where ratings are classified, color-coded.

“S-tier means the character is strong. They’re common picks in competitive play.

Crow's cursor dropped down, Hinata’s gaze following closely.

“The lower you go, the weaker the character is.”

His cursor stopped at an avatar. Hinata leaned closely, narrowing in on where the cursor was placed.

“This is you… I mean… Kanno Hinata.”

D-Tier.

No words. Hinata’s nostrils flared. Just pure contempt.

“They modeled her after me… and made her weak?”

“I guess so, no idea how that happened.”

Hinata watched another match end. Her eyes narrowed—not at the game, but at him.

“Why do you stick to such a weak character?”

“I don’t know, honestly. But I do enjoy playing as her.”

Then—

“Don’t give up, let’s do better next time!” said Game Hinata’s dialogue after a loss.

Those words. Warmth, just like Yuzu.

Something ticked inside Real Hinata, and she felt it.

“Do you like this version of me?”

“Wh-what? No… I mean… uh… I don’t…”

“Stop fumbling, dumbass.” Hinata scoffed. “You think this is me?”

Crow turned his chair towards her.

“That’s ridiculous. I may be a big fan, but this isn’t real.”

“Then why do you want me to stay?” she questioned.

Crow leaned back, arms folded behind his head.

“I liked your company. When you’re here, this place is more alive. I told you before, right?”

Hinata paused, then turned around with a huff.

“Tch. I know. Just making sure. If you’re getting ideas, you better scrap them now.” And with that, Hinata left, shutting the door behind her.

Crow slumped into his seat as if he had survived another meltdown.

Meanwhile, Hinata paused on the other side of the door. Her lips pursed, annoyed—but her feet wouldn’t move.

“Hmph. Stupid…”