Perhaps it was astonishment, but he froze, wide-eyed.
“…Um…” Yura gulped timidly, unsure what else to do or say. She started to step forward, but her legs went stiff.
It was like a trigger of some sort that suddenly brought forward the memories Yura had been searching for. They began to bubble over all at once, overloading her mind. Like information populating a computer screen, the images began to flow without stopping.
“Ahhh…”
She lifted her hands and covered her cheeks.
For the moment, she’d even forgotten he was there.
She’d remembered.
It was the mirror. She remembered the old mirror back at Tomoko’s shop.
That’s right. I went to Tomoko’s place to apologize. And then, that mirror suddenly began to glow, and a strange wind blew from within. The next thing I knew, I was in that place. Passed out in that vast wasteland of red earth.
Yura looked dully up at the other person.
Seeing the confused look on Yura’s face, the young man stood up straight, as if someone had thrust a metal ruler into his back.
He gazed frightfully at Yura’s face, and she realized, it looked very familiar.
I remember now!
It was the face she had seen after she saw the strange child through the mirror. He had suddenly grown—into that handsome face with golden hair. And most importantly, those emerald eyes.
It was him.
There was no mistake. This was the same person.
Yura charged into the garden. He leapt up, as if frightened by her charging toward him.
“Um…!” she cried.
The young man instantly flinched. He gasped and stepped back.
Yura noticed the sword at his hip and froze in place.
He was tall. Only a little shorter than Ashes.
She could see something that looked like armor over the sturdy fabric top with the high collar he wore. His body was covered with a cape, but she could see his hand beneath and that it was in position to unsheathe his sword at a moment’s notice.
Without giving any of this due consideration, Yura took big strides toward him. Each time, he took a half-step back.
Unfazed, Yura continued toward him, grabbing his elbows.
“H-Hey, you! We’ve met before! Do you remember me?”
Bewildered by Yura’s hysterics, his eyes widened further. Beneath his slightly knitted brows, his wide eyes had become almost spherical.
“You know, that day…”
As soon as she started to speak, Yura stopped. She still couldn’t find the right words to describe what had happened. She pointed to her nose, then drew closer to his face while reaching for his hand. At that moment, he frowned and turned away.
“You know…that day…in the mirror?”
“I beg your pardon, but your hand…”
Suddenly, his hand slipped through hers. That was what finally brought Yura back to her senses. She was a bit shocked by his reaction, and though she took a step back, she stared at him. She expected he might be angry with her. However…
“H-Hey? Um…what’s wrong?” she asked without thinking.
For some reason, he seemed to be desperately avoiding meeting her gaze. His body had seemed ready to strike, but his head was twisted away and lowered.
Perhaps he didn’t understand what was going on and was confused.
“I-It’s true. We met before,” she tried again, softer this time. “You don’t remember? In that big mirror, when you were a child? I know my face is forgettable, but still…”
Yura once again pointed to herself. She leaned over and peered into the young man’s face. At that moment, his face became distorted, as if he were feeling the pain of a hidden wound. Biting his lip, he looked away. But he then gave Yura a sideways glance and took a half-step back.
Seemingly resolved, he looked at Yura.
“…My apologies, but I do not know you,” he asserted softly.
The color drained from Yura’s face at his words. She instinctively took another step back. She’d finally found that ray of hope she wished for, just to have it snuffed out in the same instant.
“Really…?”
But I know we’ve met once before.
Back then, it seemed unbelievable, but they’d seen each other through the mirror. Even if it was just a few words they had spoken.
Yura clasped her trembling hands and looked up at him.
She was under the weight of such intolerable darkness, on the verge of breaking. When she finally managed to speak, it was a hoarse, briny voice that even she found pitiful.
“…Hey, really? You don’t remember?”
She struggled to speak, but it only made the tears more likely to fall.
This time, the young man suddenly gasped, as if pricked by a needle. The edges of his cheeks twitched. He lifted his hand awkwardly, like a machine in need of oiling, and groaned.
“I…I hear what you are saying, but…”
“I didn’t believe it myself, but we met through the mirror. It hasn’t even been ten days. We even spoke—you don’t remember?”
You can do it.
Her voice was full of emotion as she spoke, but the young man seemed to be getting flustered.
He thrust out both hands to keep himself standing up straight.
Watching him made Yura anxious for another reason. It was as if she were shaking from more than fear.
Would he remember if she reminded him what was said?
She looked up, ready to start explaining again. But in that time, the young man was already striding past Yura.
“If you’ll excuse me!”
His cape billowing behind him, he dashed off in long strides.
His footsteps quickly disappeared, leaving Yura to watch him go.
Her surroundings suddenly fell silent.
The tears on her cheeks grew cold.
Slowly but surely, she began to calm down.
“No way…”
She hoped he finally remembered, but that seemed highly unlikely.
Her hands dangled at her side in disappointment. She was left standing alone in the garden.
She shook her head and spun around.
There was nothing else she could do here.
Perhaps she should have just rested as Leila suggested.
Why hadn’t he even looked her in the eye?
She felt dejected.
Trying to hold closed the wounds she didn’t even know she had, Yura finally left the garden.