"Idiot." She cursed herself in the mirror.
The person in the mirror opened her mouth too, silently saying the same thing.
March 7th took a deep breath and forced the sourness welling up inside her back down.
"What am I even thinking?" she muttered softly. "Whether she even likes me is still up in the air, and here I am thinking about all this random stuff..."
She paused.
"...No, wait. Why am I using the word 'likes'?"
The mirror did not answer her.
She did not speak again either.
Only the sound of her own breathing remained in the room, and from somewhere very, very far away, the silence of star rails cutting through the vacuum.
March 7th stared at the pair of eyes in the mirror that were exactly the same as her own.
There was something in them she did not want to admit, yet could not hide.
She opened her mouth, wanting to say something to break the silence.
Then she froze.
The version of herself in the mirror was smiling.
It was not the gloomy expression she wore on her face right now.
That gaze, which did not look at all like March 7th's usual dazed expression, was looking at her.
March 7th's pupils suddenly contracted.
She did not move.
The person in the mirror did not move either, only smiled like that, watching her quietly through the cold surface of the mirror.
Three seconds.
Five seconds.
"Wh-what the hell—!"
March 7th abruptly took a step back, her back slamming into the wardrobe door with a loud bang.
"The mirror, the me in the mirror started talking!" Her voice shot up eight octaves as she pointed at the mirror in terror. "I'm doomed! Mr. Yang! Dan Heng! This is bad! The Express is haunted!"
She turned