Chapter 5: Don't Vanish

Overslept—not something I do very often.

I had forgotten to set my alarm because of everything that went down with Izumi and as a result...

I woke up dazed, feral and barely able to keep my eyes open.

My eyes were crusted even more than usual, and my face was as dry as a desert.

I had a few unread messages from Mika; looks like she went on without me.

I skipped the bathroom. Skipped the mirror. Skipped her.

Didn’t even brush my teeth. Gross, I know. Spare me the infodump.

I skipped out not because I’m angry at her. 

I’m not. 

Not really.

Izumi is remarkable, complex and challenging to understand. I want to, but honestly? I can't.

She's harder to solve than any puzzle in War of Fate's story campaign mode.

Maybe she's not meant to be solved.

Maybe it's me who needs a solution. For myself.

I'll figure out why later.

I'm mentally spiraling and monologuing all this while simultaneously tornado-ing my way down the stairs.

I gave the upstairs one final look before heading out.

God, this girl.

⊹˚₊‧──────────────‧₊˚⊹ ⟡ ✧ a temporal jump ✧ ⟡ ⊹˚₊‧──────────────‧₊˚⊹

Eiji, Mika and I sat at our usual spot in the cafeteria.

I didn't pack a bento for myself. 

Good thing too, I didn't feel like eating.

"Hey," I said. "How've you been?"

They glanced at each other and smiled.

"For someone who got smashed up at a café after trying to flirt with a girl whom I had no idea was taken, not too bad." Eiji said with an eye roll.

That was it? That was the injury? Here I thought it was something more serious. Eiji can be a real meathead sometimes.

"What did you do, then?"

"Gave up entirely, sir!" Eiji saluted at me.

A meathead with principles.

Unfortunately I was too deep in the throes of my own personal hell to offer him any useful advice.

"By the way, how are you doing these days? You seem... hermit-like... what's up?"

“Keizo's been off all day.” Mika added.

I shrugged. “Just tired.”

"You sure?"

Another shrug.

She lingered a bit, then gave me a tiny smile.

It looks like she'd let me off the hook.

“Okay,” she said. “Just... don’t shut people out, alright?”

I nodded.

They didn’t push anymore. Which somehow made it worse.

The bell rang not long after. Everyone scurried off to their next class like it meant something.

I just walked to nowhere in particular. Like a half-dead goblin clinging to his last bit of draining HP.

I never had a good track record with friends. Never had many to begin with.

I was shutting these two out; I had to for the time being.

When a girl from another world manifests herself in your mirror, you can't expect it to go well.

⊹˚₊‧──────────────‧₊˚⊹ ⟡ ✧ a temporal jump ✧ ⟡ ⊹˚₊‧──────────────‧₊˚⊹

The moment the bell rang to end school, I ran out for home.

After thinking for a bit... I realized I couldn't keep ignoring it any longer.

Because no matter how much I wanted to hide everything, the truth still remained—Izumi was right.

She had to be right.

Maybe I did have some untapped potential. Maybe that strange pull through the mirror between us wasn’t just some magical fluke. Maybe her being sent to my mirror meant something. Like fate wasn’t just throwing darts in the dark—it was aiming.

Too many maybes.

What if… what if I was the key, though?

What if I was the one who could break her out?

The idea sounded insane. But not as insane as not trying.

This girl was basically getting tortured everyday and I was doing everything else but trying to actively fix it.

For God's sake I literally cast magic not a while ago!

I have it in me...

I just let my dry wit get the best of me, undercut it all, and completely downplayed the importance and major-ass significance of that fact.

That's it.

I have to do something for her.

How cruel to show someone the endless wonders your world has to offer while they are stuck somewhere psychologically damning instead of figuring out the best method for tactical salvation.

I'm such an idiot.

I had reached home and quickly raced up the stairs again. I was about to turn the doorknob to head into the bathroom and finally tell Izumi everything when I heard her.

I stopped in my tracks.

"I WANT TO BE FREE!" Her scream sliced through the quiet. "FREE I SAY! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?!"

She cried out again. "I DON'T WANT ANY OF THIS! I JUST WANNA GO HOME!"

I froze again.

"LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT!"

My hand was still on the doorknob. I couldn't turn it. Could barely breathe.

She was crying. That was enough of a reason to open it, wasn't it? She sounded genuinely mortified.

Crap, here goes.

I went in, shutting the door behind me.

And there she was.

Izumi.

She was curled in the center of that mirrored prison, gripping her arms, trembling.

Her hair: Disheveled; wild as an animal.

Tears: Streaming down her cheeks.

I felt awful seeing her cry like that.

"Izumi..."

She looked up—and when our eyes met, she recoiled.

"Keizo..." she whispered in a husky little voice. "Do not look upon me..."

My heart cracked right down the middle.

She looked so scared. So broken. So lost.

Her hands were clutching her knees against her chest.

I tried stepping closer but she moved back further in.

More tears fell faster and faster onto the floor with every step.

Izumi," I said quietly. "I'm here."

"Why?" Her voice broke.

She stood slowly, and meekly stumbled over to me, and pressed her palms against the mirror.

"I tried every chant, every ritual. I chanted sigils until my palms bled and burned. I called upon every heavenly being, every demon, every power that might break the curse that bound me, but nothing came." No one came, Keizo.

I stepped closer too. My face now inches away from hers.

"I'm here with you," I said. “I’m going to get you out of there.”

She flinched. “You do not understand what you say.”

But I did.

“Izumi,” I said, voice low but steady. “I think... I think this was never just about you being trapped.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“I think you came here for a reason,” I said. “I think I was part of that reason.”

Her lips parted. “You speak like one of the Oracles of Byzmea. Are you certain?”

“Nope,” I said. “I’m a high school kid with a magic problem and a girl in his mirror. But for once—I’m not scared of that.”

Silence passed between us.

Then she said something I didn’t expect.

“Promise me.”

“What?”

“Swear to me, Keizo. On your world. On your soul. Swear on the very matter that makes up your Aether Signature.”

I stepped forward and placed my hand over hers through the glass.

“I promise,” I whispered. “Whatever this is… I’m not leaving you alone in it.”

She stared at me, then closed her eyes

That seemed to calm her down.

"I was a little harsh the other night, and I'm sorry about that." She bowed her head. "But I'm glad to know that you take this bond seriously."

"and I'm sorry, for doubting myself. For lashing out. For hurting you. For—"

She put a finger to the mirror, where my lips would be, and stopped me mid sentence.

"No more apologies," she insisted. "Not yet. There are things we must do first."

I nodded with a deep sigh.

It was out of relief and the prospect of finally getting this mess sorted that brought tears to my eyes.

Finally.

Now we're both here.

We can finally get things figured out. Get things right.

“Now, I must tell you something important,” she said, breaking through my thoughts.

I blinked at her.

A beat.

“What?” I asked.

She held my gaze steadily, taking a step forward to meet mine.

“Please trust me. This may come as a shock to you.”

My eyebrows shot up in response. “Alright... What’s up?”

"I am positive this barrier which contains me has vulnerabilities. Ones that we could exploit. I think we should test it out," she suggested.

"Uh... okay..." I began nervously. "What exactly would those weaknesses be?"

“I noticed that when I cast different types of Magicka—be it Sigillic or Theurgic—there’s a moment of distortion. Our tether has shot up to a more powerful tier. Perhaps enough to cause a destabilization. If we sync your aura with mine—”

She might be able to use magic outside the barrier to create a gap, and our tether would... oh, what was it?

I tried desperately to listen.

"Wait, wait!" I held up my hand. "You're talking too fast. Let me get my notebook."

I ran out of the room, attempted a tactical slide, and picked up a spiral bound book with a cheesy Gundam sticker on it. It had never actually been used before - until now.

⊹˚₊‧──────────────‧₊˚⊹ ⟡ ✧ a temporal jump ✧ ⟡ ⊹˚₊‧──────────────‧₊˚⊹

A week passed.

I had fully engrossed myself in Izumi's world.

This girl had me drawing up all sorts of crazy diagrams and had me writing things down in the margins.

Even my notes had notes!

But for what it’s worth—I got the feeling that she had a pretty good idea about what we could and couldn’t really do.

I’d thrown myself headfirst into Izumi’s world.

Into Epithar.

Yeah. That’s what her world was called.

She had mentioned it to me before.

Sounded like something ripped out of an old RPG, but it was real to her. Which, in turn, meant it was real to me.

She had a funny way of speaking—formal and melodic, until she got passionate. Then it all broke apart into tangents, word salad, and unhinged rants about her world.

I tried keeping up. Honestly? I loved hearing her talk. Not just because I was into her—which, okay, maybe I was—but it was only because she made the impossible make sense.

She said I might already know more about Epithar than half the scholars at Magnaria's top schools.

I told her that was a reach. A huge reach.

She just laughed and told me to not ‘devalue myself.’ for the umpteenth time.

But yeah. This was real. The mirror. The magic. The tether. Her.

Somewhere along the line, I stopped doubting it. Not because I had proof.

Because I had a purpose.

Because we were fighting side by side.

Together.

The gears were spinning in her head. She was deep in thought.

I didn't dare interrupt.

She surprised me though.

“No more rehearsals,” she said sharply. “If I must die escaping, so be it. But I will not linger here for the sake of one more failed spell.”

I blinked. “That’s not—wait, you said die?”

She looked at me, voice calm, almost gentle. “I would rather vanish trying to be free than rot behind this cursed fenestration another day.”

My throat went dry. “Don’t say that.”

“Why?” she snapped. “Because it frightens you!?”

“Yes!” I barked before I could stop myself. “Because it does! I’ve already—”

I stopped.

I’ve already lost people. But I hadn’t. Not yet.

Eiji and Mika still texted me. Still asked if I was okay. Still showed up to school, sat at our usual cafeteria table, waiting.

And I stopped showing up entirely.

It's been a week. I couldn't bring myself to tell those two.

Because if I told them what I’d found, what I’d brought home—what I was trying to do—what if they got hurt or worse.

So I ghosted them. Ditched school. Ditched my speedrun attempts. Everything I used to care about. I shut them out. Like a wounded animal, I hid. And I hated myself for doing it.

But it was for their own good, for both of theirs.

I felt stupid, selfish. Guilty.

“I’m scared,” I said. “Not of magic. Not even of failure. I’m scared I’ll break something. I don't wanna lose you!”

"Keizo, do not let these fears paralyze you. I beg you, don’t be so afraid to fight. Fight with every ounce of your being. Don’t waste any more time, either. We have no other option."

“I don’t want you to vanish.”

“And I don’t want to suffer. So which of us shall yield first, Keizo-dono?”

I shook my head.

My eyes widened.

She had never called me that before.

“I... I guess I should be the one to yield,” I muttered. “If someone has to take the risk... if someone has to step forward first, it should be me. Because I—”

The words slipped past my defenses.

“I love y—”

I stopped. My face was flushing.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “That just... slipped out.”

Izumi blinked.

“No,” she said, breath hitching. “Say it again.”

I met her gaze and didn't look away.

“I love you.”

I really just went for the jugular, huh?

We stared at each other through the mirror—neither of us dared to look away.