# Chapter 6: Mirrors
The days began to follow a rhythm of their own.
Yunar woke up. Took his medication. Went to school. Came home. Slept. And dreamed.
He always dreamed.
The line between the two worlds was growing thinner, like ink spreading through water. Sometimes, in the middle of a class, he would catch himself thinking about the little girl's smile. Other times, in the dream, he would remember something Eren had said.
The worlds were bleeding into each other.
And Yunar no longer knew if that frightened him or comforted him.
---
School that day was like every other.
Yunar copied notes he would probably never review. Answered when called on. Wiped away tears that fell without warning.
During the break, Eren appeared with two juice boxes and tossed one to him.
"You've been really quiet lately," Eren said, sitting down beside him on the patio bench. "Like, more than usual."
"Just tired."
"Man, you always say that." Eren took a sip of his juice. "When was the last time you actually slept properly?"
*I sleep. I just don't know if I wake up.*
"Last night."
"Sure you did." Eren nudged him with his elbow. "But fine, if you don't want to talk, that's okay. Just... I don't know, if you need anything, I'm here."
Yunar looked at his friend. There was genuine concern there. "I know. Thanks."
When the last bell rang, Alya was waiting at the gate as always. She waved when she saw him, and something in Yunar's chest tightened.
She was real. Solid. Present.
So why did part of him still feel absent?
"Hi," she said when he reached her.
"Hi."
They walked together through the neighbourhood streets. The sun was beginning to dip, painting the sky in shades of amber. A few leaves drifted from the trees, announcing the arrival of autumn.
"My mum asked about you," Alya mentioned casually. "She said you seem polite."
"Oh." Yunar didn't know what to say to that.
"She wants you to come for dinner one of these days." Alya glanced at him sideways. "If you want, of course."
"I'd like that."
She smiled, and it was warm and genuine. "Then it's settled."
They talked about trivial things after that. About a tough test they had coming up next week. About a new film that had come out. About nothing and everything.
It was easy with her. Comfortable.
When they reached the corner where they usually said goodbye, they stopped. Alya adjusted her backpack strap, hesitating.
"So... see you tomorrow?"
"Of course."
She waved and headed toward her house. Yunar stood there for a moment, watching her go.
Then he turned and walked home.
---
That night, sleep came easily.
And so did the dream.
---
Yunar blinked and was in the living room.
There was no transition. One moment he was lying in bed, the next he was sitting on the familiar sofa. The TV was on, showing some cooking programme at low volume.
The little girl was on the rug, surrounded by colourful building blocks. She was constructing something — maybe a tower, maybe a house. It was hard to tell. Her small fingers worked with serious concentration, her tongue poking out slightly.
The woman was sitting beside him on the sofa. She wasn't doing anything in particular. Just there, her white hair falling loose over her shoulders, eyes resting on her daughter with that soft gaze only mothers have.
Yunar looked around.
The warm glow of the lamp in the corner. The soft rug beneath his bare feet. The quiet murmur of the TV mixed with the little girl's whispers to herself.
There was something incredibly... normal about all of it.
And for the first time, Yunar allowed himself to simply... feel.
He smiled.
Not forced. Not out of politeness or social reflex. Genuine — an expression of pure and simple contentment.
The woman must have noticed, because she turned to look at him. "What?"
"Nothing." He was still smiling. "Just... happy."
She tilted her head, her eyes studying his face with the kind of attention that only comes from deep intimacy. Then she smiled too, and there was something like relief in that smile.
"You've been different lately."
"Different how?"
"Present." She took his hand, interlacing their fingers. "You used to be here but not really here, you know? But lately... it feels like you've finally come back."
The words should have sounded strange. They should have raised questions. But instead, they simply settled into Yunar's chest like something he had always known.
"It's good to be back," he heard himself say.
The little girl dropped her blocks and ran to them, climbing up onto the sofa. "Look what I made, Daddy!"
She held up a lopsided tower — three blocks wide, maybe seven tall, leaning dangerously to the left.
"It's beautiful," Yunar said, and he meant it.
"It looks like the tower in that book we saw!" The little girl pointed at the bookshelf. "The one with the dragon on top!"
"You're right, it does." The woman laughed softly. "Now we just need the dragon."
"I'll make a dragon tomorrow!" the little girl announced with absolute confidence. Then she yawned.
"Someone's sleepy," the woman observed.
"I'm not." Another yawn.
"Of course not." Yunar picked the little girl up and settled her on his lap. She curled against him immediately, her small head resting on his shoulder.
Two minutes later, she was asleep.
The woman and Yunar exchanged a look — the kind of silent communication that couples develop over years.
And in that moment, Yunar felt something he rarely felt in the other world.
*Complete peace.*
*"See reality."*
The voice came, but it was different this time. Faint. Distant. Almost... tired.
As though it were giving up.
---
Yunar woke up slowly.
It wasn't the violent awakening of before. It was just... waking up.
The tears fell, of course. They always did. But he barely noticed anymore.
He looked at the clock. 6:15 a.m.
Another day.
---
School passed in a blur of voices and movement.
Yunar was there, but he wasn't. His mind drifted between what he had seen in the dream and what he saw now.
When the last bell rang, Alya was there.
"Want to go somewhere?" she asked.
"Sure."
They went to a nearby snack bar. The place was almost empty at that hour. They ordered chips to share and two milkshakes.
"You're quieter than usual today," Alya observed, stirring her straw.
"Sorry."
"You don't have to apologise." She picked up a chip. "Just... are you okay?"
*Am I? I don't know anymore.*
"Yeah."
She didn't look convinced, but she didn't push it. Instead, she steered the conversation toward something lighter.
Yunar answered at the right moments, but part of him was still somewhere else.
---
That night, when sleep came, Yunar almost welcomed it with relief.
---
He was in the kitchen.
The smell of garlic and spices filled the air. A pot was simmering on the stove.
The woman was beside him, chopping vegetables on a cutting board. Her movements were precise, practised.
"You put too much salt in again," she said without even tasting it.
Yunar looked at the pot. "How do you know?"
"Because I know you." She grabbed a spoon, tasted it, and made a face. "I knew it."
"You always say I put in too much salt."
"Because you always do." But she was smiling when she said it.
They worked side by side. There was a choreography to it — she passed the vegetables, he added them to the pot.
The little girl was sitting at the table, her head resting on her folded arms. Her eyes were closed, mouth slightly open. Breathing softly.
"She had a big day," the woman murmured. "She fell asleep before I even finished getting dinner ready."
The woman dried her hands and went to the little girl. Carefully, she lifted her into her arms.
"I'll put her to bed. Can you finish up here?"
"Of course."
When the woman came back, Yunar was arranging the plates.
"Smells good," she said, stepping closer. "Maybe you got the salt right this time."
Yunar turned.
And then, without thinking, without planning, he kissed her.
The woman went still for half a second — surprised. Then she relaxed completely, kissing him back. Her hands rose to his face.
The kiss was soft. Familiar.
When they pulled apart, she was flushed.
"What was that for?"
"Felt like it," Yunar said simply.
She laughed softly. "You've been very affectionate lately. Not that I'm complaining."
"Is that bad?"
"No." She held his face in her hands. "It's wonderful. It's... perfect."
They had dinner together. Talked quietly.
And there was something precious in that ordinariness.
*"See reality."*
The voice came. Faint.
And everything disappeared.
---
Yunar woke up with the taste of the kiss still on his lips.
Tears rolled silently down his cheeks.
---
The following days passed quickly.
Until, one particular afternoon, Yunar and Alya were walking back from school together.
The sun was setting. There was a coolness in the air.
They talked about things that didn't matter.
When they reached the front of her house, they stopped.
"So..." Alya began.
"So."
She stood there, looking at him. At the ground. Back at him.
There was something different in her expression.
"Yunar."
"Yeah?"
She took a step forward.
Her hands rose, straightening a few strands of his silver hair.
Then she rose onto her tiptoes.
And kissed him.
It was soft. Quick. But filled with courage.
When she pulled away, her cheeks were red.
"We've... we've never done that," she murmured. "And it's been so long already."
Yunar stood still.
"I..." He didn't know what to say.
Alya smiled shyly. "Actually... can I come to your house today? I'd like to see it."
---
When they arrived at Yunar's house, Mrs. Wan was in the living room, watching TV.
She looked up when the door opened, surprised to see Alya.
"Mum," Yunar said, nervous. "This is Alya. My... girlfriend."
Mrs. Wan stood, and a small but genuine smile touched her lips. "It's lovely to meet you, Alya."
"The pleasure is mine." Alya gave a slight bow.
"Please, sit down. I'll make some tea."
"You really don't have to—"
"It's no trouble at all." Yunar's mother was already heading to the kitchen.
Yunar and Alya sat on the sofa.
Mrs. Wan came back with the tea and asked polite questions. About Alya's school, her family, her plans.
And for the first time in a long while, Yunar's house felt alive.
---
But then came the thunder.
It was loud, sudden. The lights flickered.
"The forecast didn't say it was going to rain today," Mrs. Wan murmured, going to the window.
Outside, the sky had darkened. Heavy clouds swallowed the light. Another crack of thunder, and the rain began.
It wasn't a drizzle. It was a downpour.
Alya looked out the window, eyes wide. "I... I need to go."
"In this rain?" Mrs. Wan shook her head. "Impossible. You'll be soaked through."
"But I can't—"
"You can stay here tonight." Her voice was firm but gentle. "I'll call your parents."
Alya hesitated, looking at Yunar. He nodded.
"Okay... okay. Thank you."
---
The evening went on.
Mrs. Wan called Alya's parents and explained. They agreed.
"You can sleep in Yunar's room," his mother said. "He can sleep on the sofa."
"I don't want to cause any trouble—"
"It's no trouble." Mrs. Wan gave Alya's shoulder a gentle pat. "Good night, dear."
She went upstairs, leaving the two of them alone.
Yunar grabbed a pillow and a blanket. "Come on."
---
Yunar's room was small but tidy. A single bed. A desk with books. Shelves with a few old figurines.
"You can have the bed," Yunar said, setting the pillow down on the floor. "I'll sleep here."
"Yunar, no." Alya looked uncomfortable. "You don't have to sleep on the floor."
"It's fine. Don't worry about it."
"But—"
He was already lying down.
Alya stood there. Then, slowly, she climbed down from the bed.
"Then neither of us sleeps in the bed."
Yunar blinked. "What?"
She was standing beside him. "If you're going to sleep on the floor, so am I."
"Alya—"
"Or," she interrupted, flushing, "we could... both... lie down... in the bed."
Silence.
"Are you sure?"
"I..." She avoided his eyes. "Yeah. Okay."
They got into the bed, one on each side, keeping their distance. The mattress was small, so even then they were close.
Yunar lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. He could feel the warmth of her. Could hear her uneven breathing.
"Yunar," she whispered.
"Yeah?"
Alya turned on her side to face him. He did the same.
In the dark, lit only by the faint light coming through the window, they lay like that.
Then Alya moved closer.
Her lips found his. Soft. Hesitant. But full of something deep.
When she pulled away, she was trembling.
"It's... just... a good night gesture," she murmured.
She pulled the sheet over herself and turned on her side.
Silence.
And then, so quietly that Yunar almost didn't hear it:
"I... love... you."
The words hit his mind like lightning.
Yunar froze. Staring at her back. Watching how tense she was, waiting.
He opened his mouth.
"I love you too."
He felt her relax slightly, but neither of them said anything more.
The hours passed in silence.
---
*END OF CHAPTER 6*