The Girl in the Mirror
How to Become a Hero
That was the title of my favorite comic.
I loved every single character in it — calling that an overstatement would almost be unfair. So why the past tense? Well, honestly, I still love it even now, but…
"Hmm…"
The woman before me was somehow looking at me with a dissatisfied expression, letting out a nasal little sound. White hair swept forward over one shoulder cascaded down to her chest, and her pale blood-red eyes sparkled prettily. Her lips, pouted in clear dissatisfaction, only heightened her cuteness, while the slight swell of her chest beneath the school uniform left no doubt that she was a woman. The name Elysia embroidered on the chest of that uniform told me who she was, and it struck me anew how perfectly the name suited her pretty face.
Unfortunately, a pane of glass stood between us, as if declaring we could never grow close.
"Haa…"
When I let out a deep sigh, the woman beyond the glass sighed at the same moment, as if sharing the exact same feeling.
…Right. As expected, what stood between us wasn't a window — it was a mirror. Meaning the cute, adorable, pretty, and even beautiful woman before me… was me. And her figure was perfect, too!
If there had been even one part I didn't like, I might have cursed this whole situation, but…
"She's too pretty to curse…!"
Good grief! Even the voice was ridiculously cute. At this rate I was going to fall completely in love with my own body.
Actually, I already have…
It had already been a full week since I possessed Elysia's body. Separate from how hard it was to adjust to being a woman, I liked it a great deal. I gently stroked my own cheek with one hand. The soft flesh sank obediently wherever my fingers pressed.
"Hehe."
The way I smile is really pretty. Mm-hmm.
"Everything else is great, but…"
It wasn't as if there were no problems. Should I say my emotional swings got worse after the possession? Whether something affected me during the process, there were things I used to like that I somehow disliked now — and the opposite, too. Honestly, I didn't remember the details of my life before the possession all that clearly… but I was certain my personality had never been like this. On top of that, the original Elysia's personality and mine had gotten all mixed up into an even bigger mess.
The silver lining, I suppose, was that this character named Elysia had a genuinely good personality. You know the type — comics always have one. Bright about everything, always greeting the protagonists with warmth and giving them affectionate little pats on the head: the big-sister type. The one who loudly declares she'll help, then fails at everything because she's a total klutz, laughs awkwardly afterward, and somehow never becomes annoying — the cute character. If the protagonist ever avoids her for a surprise, she frets herself sick thinking she must have done something wrong. Almost always smiling, so sensitive she cries at the drop of a hat, terrible at lying… and hopelessly fond of anything cute or pretty…
That kind of character.
Even mixed with my slightly warped personality, Elysia's nature still remained. Not long after the possession, I got curious about this world's movies and animations and put one on — and I lost count of how many times I cried during a single film. It was a sad movie, sure, but not sad enough to leave a person on the verge of dehydration. And that wasn't all. When I was still feeling down after it ended, a notification popped up that a cat video had been uploaded to my phone. By the time I came back to myself, I was grinning ear to ear, watching the thing. Other incidents, too — falling while walking when I hadn't fully adjusted to the body and bawling my eyes out, or my mood shooting straight up just from seeing pretty flowers or cute animals. That was probably why I ended up spending hours a day staring at my own face.
Because I'm pretty!
From what I remembered, she hadn't been this extreme a character with such wild mood swings. It had to be the result of my personality mixing with hers and warping into something strange. But what did personality matter?
In this world, pretty and beautiful was the absolute truth. And I was pretty and beautiful. Therefore, I was the truth!
"Mm!"
I planted my hands on my hips all by myself and thrust my chest out proudly. Even that proud, chest-forward pose looked gallant.
"I really like this."
I grinned at the mirror. I struck all sorts of poses in front of it for a while before finally snapping back to my senses.
"Oh crap. There was something I had to do today. I completely forgot!"
I turned away from the mirror polished to a shine, opened the bathroom door, and the sight of a rundown house spread before my eyes. A room so cramped it couldn't have been more than sixteen square meters. The wallpaper wasn't even properly stuck to the walls, leaving everything a dull gray, and dust billowed from the cracks until the air itself felt musty. The light bulb barely worked, struggling to cast a faint glow, and pale dust floated beneath it. Spiderwebs hung in the corners of the ceiling, and the drip, drip of water from the small sink was downright eerie. An old clock ticked away, telling me it was already past one in the morning. Faint moonlight spilled through a tiny window and illuminated my feet — and thanks to that, my pure white hair caught the light and sparkled prettily.
Even in a place like this, my beauty doesn't lose its luster!
There was almost nothing that could be called furniture. Just a neatly folded tattered blanket in the corner and a single small dresser. Without even those, no one would have guessed a person lived here. It had felt a bit unfamiliar at first, but after a week in this place I'd gotten used to it in my own way. The thought that I still hadn't adjusted to the empty space between my legs, yet had adapted so quickly to where I lived, made me snort a quiet laugh.
I opened the small drawer, roughly shoved my wallet and an industrial box cutter into my pocket, then pulled just the cutter back out. Shhk—. I tried to check the blade, but it was too dark to see well. I held it up to the faintly glowing bulb, but the light was too dim to make anything out. The moonlight coming through the window was actually brighter. Dust was billowing where that moonlight fell, though, so I had no choice but to carefully touch the tip of the blade with my finger.
Really… just the tiniest bit…
Poke.
"Ah."
The tip of the blade sank about a fingernail's depth into my fingertip. Vivid blood trickled down my finger.
"Ugh…"
The stinging pain made tears well up, but I barely managed to hold back from bursting into full sobs. At least the color of the blood was pretty — that helped me calm down. One tear I couldn't catch in time, however, rolled down my cheek, gathered at my chin, gave a little wobble, and began to plummet toward the floor. When that tear had fallen about as far as my chest, it stopped dead in midair, as if by magic.
"Ah, what a waste of a tear."
I gave a slight gesture, and the halted tear began to freely swim through the air, circling around me. When I held out a finger, the tear settled on it and, with a crisp sound, hardened into the shape of a bird. No — "froze" isn't quite right. "Hardened" would be closer. It didn't melt, and it didn't shatter easily like ice either. Actually, even "hardened" is wrong. What in the world hardens while simultaneously growing in volume and freely changing its form?
So I decided to call this Crystallization.
The crystals made by my ability were more beautiful than any gem, after all. They looked a bit like flowers turned to crystal, too. And those translucent crystals with their pale blue tint also called to mind water spirits — crystal water spirits. Looking at them quietly, they often reminded me of a gem called euclase. There was probably no more fitting name.
I returned the bird crystal on my finger to the form of a tear. A single teardrop circled around me according to my will. With one drop of my tears, I could grow it up to about the size of a person's arm. I could always cry more, but there was no reason not to use what I already had. Besides, when something urgent happened, working up tears took time, didn't it?
"Hmm-hmm."
Humming cheerfully, I opened the door of the filthy house and stepped outside, and the dark outdoor scenery came into view. It was such an old neighborhood that rundown buildings lined the streets, streetlights kept flickering, and the pitch-black alley that always faced me when I opened the door—
Whoosh!
I saw a blade flying straight at me.
Clang!
The tear circling around me instantly transformed into a dagger and knocked the flying blade aside. But the knife, which should have fallen weakly to the ground, danced through the air and flew into the dark alley, vanishing from sight. And emerging from the darkness were three burly men dressed all in black.
Thud. Thud.
"…Huh?"
The man holding the knife that had flown at me earlier pointed the tip at me.
"You're the bitch, aren't you?"
"W-what?"
I had no idea what I had done to make him glare at me so fiercely. If I had a crime, it was only that I was too beautiful. When I hunched my shoulders as if terrified and asked again, the man's expression turned strange — the face of someone seriously reconsidering, thinking Is this even the right girl?
"You're the bitch who locked my little brothers in some weird jewels, aren't you?"
"…"
The moment I heard that, I spun around and bolted.
"Hey! What are you doing, you idiots! After her!"
Shouts and the sound of pursuit started rising behind me. Ah — yelling this late at night is a nuisance to the neighbors. They don't even know that much. These guys must be a bit dumb.