The silence following the revelation was not peaceful—it was suffocating. Kaito stared at the old photograph, his heart hammering in his chest. Airi had gone pale, her fingers trembling as they hovered just above the page. The man in the photo—the one circled in red—had Kaito's face. Not similar. Identical.
"This can't be real…" Sora murmured. "Kaito, this photo is from 1953. That's over seventy years ago."
Kaito shook his head, though he couldn't deny what was in front of him. "There must be a mistake. A coincidence. Maybe it's a relative—"
"No," Sora interrupted, pointing at the name scribbled beneath the circled face. "That is your name. Kaito Yukimura."
The room suddenly felt much colder. The flickering light from the candle near the window bent unnaturally, casting twisted shadows across the walls. A soft sound—a chime—drifted through the room. But none of them had moved.
"What was that?" Haru whispered, his usual humor gone from his voice.
Kaito stood, still holding the photograph. His mind was spinning. "Maybe someone's playing a trick on us. Maybe it's a part of the haunting—"
Yui cut in sharply. "No. This is more than just a ghost story. There's something deeper here. Something connected to you, Kaito."
Airi touched his shoulder gently, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you remember anything? Any dreams, visions… memories that don't feel like yours?"
Kaito didn't respond at first. But then… a memory surfaced.
He was standing in the hallway—Seika High—but it was different. The walls were covered in faded floral wallpaper, and the windows were fogged, as though he were looking at a reflection of the school in another time. He was wearing different clothes. A uniform made of thick wool. And in the distance, he could hear chanting.
When he snapped back, the others were staring at him.
"I've seen this before," he admitted, his voice low. "In dreams. I thought… I thought they were nightmares."
A long silence followed. Then Sora stood and walked to a locked cabinet near the back of the room. With a key she wore on a necklace, she opened it and pulled out a thin, dusty journal.
"This belonged to the previous head librarian," she said. "She disappeared last year. Before she did, she gave me this and said I'd know when it was time."
Sora opened the journal. Inside were pages of strange symbols, notes in hurried handwriting, and a passage written in crimson ink:
One among the marked shall awaken the Gate.
He will wear the face of the Forgotten.
And when the mirror shatters, the past will bleed into the present.
Kaito's pulse surged. The Mirror. The Forgotten. All the symbols were pointing at him.
Suddenly, the windows all around them fogged over. From within the mist, a face pressed against the glass—twisted, half-decayed, and staring directly at Kaito.
The group jumped back as the lights flickered and died. Darkness swallowed the room. And then, a voice spoke—not from outside, but from inside Kaito's own mind.
"Welcome back, Kaito."
A Hidden Ritual
When the lights returned—briefly, flickering like a dying star—Kaito had collapsed to his knees. The others rushed to him, but he waved them off, drenched in sweat.
"I heard a voice," he said. "It knew me. It welcomed me back."
Takashi crossed his arms tightly. "This is way beyond just saving ourselves now. This is… ancient. It's been waiting."
Haru paced the room, muttering to himself. "You think this has happened before? Like some kind of cursed cycle?"
"Yes," said Sora firmly, flipping to a page in the journal where a diagram of a circular ritual site was drawn. "There's a ceremony that was once held beneath the school. A secret society, older than Seika High, older than this town. They called it The Reflection Vault."
Yui narrowed her eyes. "What were they doing?"
"Sealing something away," Sora answered. "Or someone."
Everyone turned to look at Kaito again.
He stood, hands shaking but eyes clear. "Then we have to find that vault. Whatever they sealed, it's still here. And I think I'm connected to it."
Airi stepped beside him. "We'll face it together."
Descent Into the Unknown
They returned to the Forbidden Wing that night.
Using blueprints they'd found in the journal, they discovered a concealed door behind an old trophy case. With effort, they pried it open to reveal a narrow spiral staircase plunging deep into the earth. Cold air rushed upward, carrying with it a scent like burnt paper and damp stone.
The steps seemed endless. The deeper they went, the more warped the architecture became. The walls bent inward, like ribs. Strange markings glowed faintly along the path—markings that pulsed when Kaito drew near.
"This place responds to you," Megumi whispered.
After what felt like hours, they reached the bottom: a vast, circular chamber lit by black candles that never flickered. Mirrors lined the walls—some cracked, others perfectly smooth.
In the center was a stone altar. Atop it rested a mask made of obsidian, its design eerily similar to the face that had appeared in Kaito's dreams.
He stepped forward.
"Wait!" Sora called out. "This is the Vault. Whatever happens here… it's a turning point."
Kaito looked back at them. "I have to know the truth."
He reached for the mask.
As soon as his fingers touched it, every mirror in the room flashed white—and shattered.