( for fatankles )

[thirdcharm]

[ For whatever reason, the loneliest part of the day to Mitsuba seems to be when school ends. Whether you're a member of an afterschool club or had plans for the weekend, it seemed like every student in Kamome Academy had something to look forward to. Something to remind them that they're part of something, that they're real humans.

Mitsuba would quietly observe the remaining students through his boundary, oftentimes he'd watch Minamoto laughing along with his friends before they part ways, feeling even more aware of the emptiness in his chest that not even the original no.3's heart could fill in.

However, something suddenly stops his train of thought; a knock comes through one of the mirrors. Mitsuba yelps in surprise before emerging out of the mirror. ]

Who's-- Oh, it's Daikon-senpai!

[ Mitsuba doesn't even have any smarmy comments, he honestly didn't expect anyone to call him out like this. His gaze falls to the box she's holding. ]

What's that?

Comments

[thirdcharm]

[ His influence in the boundary has been gradual and subtle. On the surface, it hadn't quite changed much since he has taken the seat. The mannequins picked up a peculiar interest of mimicking or posing random students they saw through the mirrors, but nothing more. They don't really keep Mitsuba company as much as they serve as the embodiment of his fascination with the living.

Nene may notice that the large mirror centering the boundary no longer has the yorishiro seal.

(The report book is safely hidden away in one of the mirrors, hopefully, to never see the light of day. And for no one to figure out the biggest change in the Hell of Mirrors.)

But what is with Daikon-senpai and pulling one surprise after the other. It gives him a nice warm, fuzzy feeling. ]

A bento...? You made that for me...?