Kinnosuke was getting anxious because it had been more than twenty minutes since Yukihide went to the restroom. He was worried that something would happen to the man.

“Yukihide-kun, are you there?” He knocked on the toilet cubicles one by one.

"Just go home, Kinnosuke." Yukihide's voice came from the far end of the room. He sniffled between words.

“I’ll wait here.”

“Kinnosuke, please leave me alone.”

"Sorry, but I don’t want to leave." He desperately crawled on the floor and his head poked in Yukihide's toilet cubicle, “Yukihide-kun, come out. You've been here too long."

"What are you doing?" Yukihide shouted when he saw Kinnosuke's head peeking from under his cubicle door, "The floor is dirty!"

"I don't care as long as you get out of this cramped room." Kinnosuke struggled to get in through the gap under the door.

"Fine. I’ll get out of here.” Yukihide finally got out of the cubicle. Kinnosuke smiled triumphantly.

Yukihide washed his face, wiping away the remaining tears. The tears might have been wiped away, but the wound in his heart lingered. Kinnosuke took a few sheets of paper towels, helping Yukihide dry his face.

"Smile, please." 

Yukihide snorted, then smiled briefly before pouting again. Kinnosuke shook his head, laughing softly.

"Let’s go, Yukihide-kun."

The older man closed his eyes, took a deep breath then nodded, "Okay."

***

It hurts when you see the person you have cared about and who has been the center of all your attention, was close to someone else. At least that was how Imai felt when he came to the exhibition to cheer on his best friend. Instead of meeting with Yukihide, he saw the man who was the model for Yukihide's painting—and his friend—standing in front of the painting.

He didn't see Yukihide anywhere.

From a distance he watched Kinnosuke run to the restroom and soon he came out with Yukihide. What hurt Imai was how the younger man put his arm around Yukihide's shoulder and they laughed together.

Imai turned his face away. He didn't want to see Yukihide with that man anymore. Too much pain. At first he wanted to come to cheer for Yukihide but seeing that his friend was already amused by Kinnosuke's presence, he had better go.

Screw the mirror!

Imai walked towards the storage room, then stood in front of the mirror. His eyes scanned the room to find something that could be used to break it. He found a baseball bat nearby.

As soon as the baseball bat was inches away from the mirror, Imai stopped.

The baseball bat fell to the floor with a loud thud, followed by Imai's body falling to the ground. His breath is hitched. He was surprised by the surge of anger—he had never felt emotion like that before.

Imai then took out his cell phone from his pocket. He called someone, “Kazuto-san, are you at the shop?”

"No, Imai-kun. I'm at a customer's house who wants to sell his antiques. What is it?"

"Can I go there? I have to get some fresh air."

"Uh, you're on campus, right? The place is quite far from your campus. Is it okay?"

Imai smiled wryly. As long as it wasn't near Yukihide, he was fine, “It's fine, Kazuto-san. Please send me the address."

"Okay wait a minute."

***

Kazuto looked at his phone in confusion. It was unusual for Imai to sound so desperate. He shrugged after sending Imai the address. He then returned to the room, where he was chatting with loyal customers of his late uncle's shop.

“Sorry for taking up your time. Let's continue, Sir." Kazuto apologized to the customer.

"What do you think? How much will you pay for this antique clock? Can you estimate the price, Kazuto-kun?”

Kazuto nodded, then showed his phone calculator that had an estimated price written on it. The man nodded in satisfaction. As if remembering something important, the man snapped his fingers.

“Oh, I want to show you my new room. A place to store all my antique collections. You'll like it. I was inspired by your uncle's shop." He took Kazuto to his new room which was located at the back of his house.

Kazuto followed the man who had been a customer at his uncle's shop for a long time. As soon as the door to the room opened, his attention was immediately drawn to one object placed directly opposite the entrance—the antique mirror. His heart was pounding. He remembered Imai's story.

“Is that an antique mirror you bought from our shop?” His index finger pointed at the mirror.

"Yes, that is true! Mirrors are beautiful when placed in the right place. Just look at the engraving, it's really rare. Do you know who made it, Kazuto-kun?”

He shook his head, "I don't know." Besides, if he knew he would have told Imai, "Oh, by the way, has anything strange happened since you bought this mirror?"

"No. Why?"

Kazuto racked his brains to find the right answer. There was no way he could tell about the strange incident that happened to Yukihide, “My late uncle forgot to ask the priest to pray for this mirror. Usually, we pray for antique goods before we sell them. Just in case." 

"I see. If you think you need to invite the priest, please tell me when you will bring the priest here. Let me prepare the room."

"Yes, Sir. I'll call you when the priest is ready." He turned his attention back to the mirror in front of him. He asked permission to touch the mirror.

Nothing unusual. Nothing has changed about him. The reflection in the mirror was still his. He also did not feel the negative aura emanating from the mirror.

"You seem interested in the mirror, don't you?"

"It's not like that. I never noticed this mirror when it was still in our storage. It has beautiful carvings. Very elegant.”

“You have good taste, Kazuto-kun. You should come to the collector's gathering party at my house. Tomorrow night. You can bring your aunt or your friend. Sounds good?"

“A collector's party? Uh…” He hesitated. He never came to any kind of party. Besides, he only had one suit, which he wore to his uncle's funeral. And he couldn't possibly take his aunt either. Ever since his uncle's passing, his aunt behaved strangely.

"Come on, you have to come! You can also promote your uncle's shop, right?" The man patted Kazuto's shoulder.

"Okay Sir, I will come."

***