The next town they entered was crowded with people.
But there was something unnatural about every single one of them. The angle of their smiles, the length of their strides, even the way they raised their hands—all of it was too consistent, like a series of identical carbon copies.
"They are mirror-bound residents," Kuon said in a low voice. "They’ve established a single 'source image' and are duplicating it. There is almost no individual variation."
Koyoi watched the children in an alleyway. They were the same height, wore the same hairpins, and even tripped in exactly the same way. Three of them scrambled up at the same moment and ran off in the same direction.
Asahi grimaced. "It’s creepy. Like a puppet show."
One of the residents approached them and bowed politely. "Welcome, travelers. We shall guide you."
The voice was soft. However, even the slight tremor at the end of the sentence was perfectly synchronized with the resident standing next to them.
Kuon didn't answer, instead flipping through the pages of his catalog. The same words echoed simultaneously from the mouths of different people:
"We shall guide you." "We shall guide you." "We shall guide you."
Koyoi pressed a hand against the pouch at their waist. The rhythm of the droplets within became irregular—a reaction of pure rejection.
"We don't need a guide," Koyoi said. "We’ll walk on our own."
As soon as the words were spoken, the smiles vanished from the residents' faces in unison. Then, with identical footfalls, they backed away and lined up on both sides of the road.
At the end of the path stood a massive mirror. Its frame was made of dark wood, and its surface was flawlessly clear, reflecting the sky and the town with absolute precision.
However, the three people reflected in the glass were moving with a subtle delay.
"That mirror is generating the original pattern," Kuon observed. "It uses whatever is reflected as a baseline to synchronize the entire town."
Asahi started to draw his sword but hesitated. "Can I break it by cutting it?"
"You could," Kuon replied. "But if you do, the residents will lose their cohesion and descend into chaos."
Koyoi stepped forward in front of the mirror and stared at their own reflection. The mirror-Koyoi touched their pouch exactly one beat late.
In that delay, Koyoi sensed a different intent.
"This isn't just a simple lag. It’s observing our choices."
Koyoi raised their left hand before the reflection could move. The reflection did not follow; instead, it raised its right hand.
A stir went through the residents. For the first time, a non-identical reaction occurred.
Kuon immediately gave the order. "Good. Create a divergence. Don't let them settle on a single base image."
Asahi moved as well. He struck the frame of the mirror with the scabbard of his sword, throwing off its resonance. Faint ripples ran across the mirror's surface.
Koyoi continued to deliberately choose actions opposite to the reflection. If Koyoi looked right, the reflection looked left; if Koyoi stood, the reflection sat. The mirror image couldn't keep up, and its movements began to fray and come apart.
Eventually, thin white cracks spread across the glass. It didn't shatter, but the perfect reflection was lost.
Individual variation returned to the expressions of the townspeople. Some looked surprised, some angry, some began to weep. Though they shared the same faces, their emotions were finally different.
Koyoi let out a breath. "Does this mean... they aren't copies anymore?"
Kuon nodded. "At the very least, the capacity to choose has been restored."
Asahi sheathed his sword. "That’s enough, then. Even if we can't save everything, we can break the stagnation."
The town bell rang. This time, the sound didn't harmonize with anything else.
Before they left, a single resident of the mirror town called out to them. It was a young man who, until moments ago, had shared the same face as everyone else.
"...I—'I'—am still not used to saying that word," he said tentatively.
Koyoi smiled and replied, "It’s hard to say at first. I couldn't say it very well when I first started my journey, either."
The young man nodded awkwardly and placed a hand over his heart. "Thank you. Next time... I will try to choose for myself."
It was a short sentence, but it carried more weight than any mirror could.