Chapter Eighteen: Dark Thoughts, Big Secrets, Mirror Image

(So I decided to split up the chapters. So this is just Fumiko centred chapter. Also, be careful reading it, I guess? I don't want to trigger anyone, so don't read it if it becomes too much, I guess. Although I don't control you, do what you want.)

Fumiko's eyes were still red from her crying earlier, which she tried to forget about. It was pathetic of her. To cry just because someone had told her the truth… but that didn't make it hurt any less.

Fumiko did everything to take her mind off of it, by getting some maids to set her up a warm and relaxing bath. It seemed to do good for Fumiko, it soothed her aching muscles and took her focus off of the dull constant pain in her heart.

As she exited the bath, wrapping a pristine white towel with golden trims on it, her long but controlled black hair wet and as straight as it could get. Her body had some bruises on it, reminding her of days past, darker days for her.

As she entered her own personal changing room, which was adjacent to her room, with fancy clothes, clothes for training, armour for battle, along with a single giant mirror.

But as she dropped the towel to get changed into some comfier clothes, she caught the sight of herself in the mirror. Dark bruises lining her skin. She couldn't help but remember her past self, and then like a flash, she saw her past self.

Standing in the mirror, was the previous hero, a weaker version… the failure. Something to be forgotten and never to be brought up again. But Fumiko wasn't like that now, she had changed, she was stronger, more beautiful. She was everything she wanted.

But Zerads voice invaded her mind as she thought so. "And look at the state of you! You're no different than when you first got here!" and as she looked at her previous self, who was just staring at her with a blank gaze, she couldn't help but agree.

They were both still weak, both still… covered in bruises… both of them… still alone.

But Fumiko shook her head. She wouldn't be like that anymore. But even when fumiko declared that to herself, and even when she moved away and took her gaze off of her weaker self, it still stayed there in the mirror, watching.

Fumiko tried to forget about it, but she could feel the emotionless stare on her, like it was an actual person.

So Fumiko tried to move past it, despite it still being there as a constant reminder.

But then it happened again, the voices. Starting up like a broken record, and no matter how much she tried to use her thoughts to drown out the other ones, it never stopped.

It started out like a whisper, it always did. She shut her eyes tightly as she grabbed her head, hoping that it would somehow stop them or dull the pain it was causing.

The voice in her head constantly repeating it, the words, sentences, repeating in her head. Like a broken record on loop that couldn't be stopped.

"Weak." "Useless." "Stupid."

They got louder each time, more determined to get it into her head that what they were saying was true.

"Not needed!" "Pathetic!" "Worthless!"

Fumiko fell to the floor, her mind struggling as they shouted at her with certainty that they were saying the truth. But then it all suddenly stopped, and Fumiko had a moment of peace, no turmoil in her head. Just her.

The Fumiko in the mirror stared at collapsed form on the ground, curled into a ball. What a sight to see. The great Fumiko Genji, the Demon Lords Hero. Pathetic really.

"Look at you, worthless piece of trash." Fumiko heard a voice, but it was familiar, it was… her own? "No wonder you got beaten, can't handle a little criticism, just like in your home world."

Fumiko looked up from her position on the ground, seeing that it was indeed her. At least the her in the mirror. Looking down at her with no emotion in her eyes.

"I mean, look at you." The mirror said to her. "Are they wrong? Your weak, useless, not needed-"

Fumiko let out a whisper as the mirror her continued. "S-stop…"

"Think about it, everyone would be better without you!" The other Fumiko berated.

"Stop…" Fumiko whispered desperately.

"No I won't!" The other her shouted out. "And what I'm about to say, I mean with all my heart! All 'our' heart."

Fumiko shut her eyes, knowing what was coming.

"You should just kill yourself!" The other Fumiko shouted. Putting her hands against her side of the mirror, making the sleeves of her school uniform go down, allowing the bruises to show, along with lines of scars along her wrist. "You almost did once before! Why don't you just FINISH THE DAMN JOB!"

Fumiko let out a scream of anguish as she hit the mirror, making it fall down to the floor and shatter.

And even though it shattered, two pieces were still together on the floor, barely holding onto each other with a crack between them.

But when Fumiko looked down at it, she saw her current self and her past self in the mirror, split down the middle in line with the crack.

Her past self had a cruel grin on her face, while she currently had tears in her eyes as she looked down.

"Look at you," the mirror Fumiko said, barely above a whisper as she spoke, just enough for the real Fumiko to hear, "already getting back into the habit."

Fumiko looked at her hand, and saw that it was bleeding, with a single cut along her wrist, with only a few small drops of blood flowing out of it.

"Seems we're not so different after all."

Fumiko let out a growl of anger and smashed the mirror with her already damaged hand.

After they split, the mirror Fumiko was gone, with only the real Fumiko remaining.

Fumiko took ragged deep breaths, not moving from her spot. But as she looked at her wrist and seeing the blood, she let out a muffled whimper and suppressed tears made their way to the surface.

It was hard to breathe for Fumiko. Like no matter how much she tried to, no breath would enter her body.

…

Zerad was sat down, looking at the mirror in front of him showing Fumiko, her crying just because of a few words.

It amused Zerad beyond belief how just a few words that meant nothing to him, could mean so much to someone else. How much damage a few words could do.

Zerad couldn't help the pleasure it brought him, although he had no intention of stopping his torment on Fumiko right there, her mirror was too damaged to form a connection between them.

Of course he could invade her mind and do it that way, but so soon after the 'mirror event', as he decided to call it, would raise some suspicions.

It would raise Fumiko's suspicions, not towards him of course, but towards someone. And a suspicious person wasn't easy to control.

He would have to get her mirror fixed as soon as possible. Tomorrow, he would get some maids to do it, although Fumiko would probably already be gone by that point. Which upset him a bit, after all what fun was a game if you're the only one playing.

And, after all, this was such a fun game for him to play.

Fumiko the puppet on unseen strings, and he, Zerad, the puppeteer, the unseen one controlling the strings from behind the stage that Fumiko didn't even know she was attached to.