The Eye Behind the Glass
Ryo Nashida has always hated his own shadow. Even as a boy, he’d catch it shifting by itself on rainy days. Now, he’s a twenty-year-old psychology student. Most call him quiet or cold. His friends joke he’s hardly even there. But secret worries pull at him every time he gets alone. When he looks in a mirror at dusk, his own face seems wrong. Would you trust your own reflection?
Egged on by his best friend Yuki—to ‘get out more’—Ryo joins the old school’s photography club. There, a strange rumor turns up and shakes the group: Someone’s been sending blurred Polaroids to club lockers. Every image shows a boy standing by the dorm window, smiling. No one knows who he is, but one girl, Shion, claims the photos change when left alone. At first, they brush her off. Still, when Shion drags Ryo into the darkroom, he can’t help staring at a photo of his own room.
The window frame’s wrong and light forms a line across the boy’s jaw. No one saw Ryo swallow, but he grips the picture. Does the face look like him? Yuki throws a joke, leaning close: “Relax, must be someone’s prank.” All Ryo can think about—why is the boy’s shadow walking away from him?
Are pictures fake or do they just show us what we’re scared to see? Where’s the line?
That night, Ryo can’t sleep. Even with eyes closed, flashes of that strange grin haunt him. Strange things start the next few days in the dorm. He finds mirrors cracked. His own Polaroid camera, locked since middle school, has moved from its old box. Footsteps echo behind him late at night, but when he turns, no one’s there.
The next club meet is charged. Everyone’s uptight, glancing at shadowy corners. Shion eyes Ryo. She says she found proof—the boy in the photos is alive, real, hiding in the dorm east hall. Yuki laughs it off but shots glances at Ryo; he’s pale. “Want to go look for him?” Shion grins. Why does her smile match the one in the photos?
Dragged into the hunt, the club kids fill narrow halls with nervous words. Ryo trails in last. Each window they pass, he sees himself outside. Or does he? Yuki chides: “You looking for ghosts or your own nerves?”
Sudden crash—someone’s dropped an old mirror. “Don’t move!” Shion yells, and Ryo’s voice locks in his throat.
Crouched by bits of glass, Ryo sees a grinning face reflected over his shoulder. It blinks at him, same white line at the jaw. Is the mirror cracked, or is there another person right behind? Hair rising on his neck, he stands. Why aren’t the others seeing this? “You saw it, didn’t you?”
They rush, find only empty rooms behind fogged windows. But the photos in the lockers start to show fewer people. Club kids start missing meetings. Each time, a face blurs out from every found Polaroid. Are they in danger? Could you keep looking for the truth even if it makes you vanish?
Ryo faces off with Shion alone, desperate. “Who are you?” he asks, voice sharp.
She laughs, shoulders tight. “Wrong question. What do you see when no one’s looking?” The last mirror in the hall still stands. They walk up together to face it. 
The glass ripples. Both faces warp, edges blurring. Behind their heads, someone moves—another Ryo? Or maybe the shadow’s all that’s left. Words echo softly: “Do you still think you’re alone?”
Just as Ryo reaches his hand toward the glass, everything ghost-white, the lights snap off.
Empty eyes appear for only one second in the dark. Quick, sharp knock at the hall door. Yuki’s voice, far-off: “Ryo? You there?” Lights flicker once as Ryo stands inches from the glass, jaw tight, fists clenched. “I’m here,” he says, but his voice is two tones at once—one real, one not.
To be continued. You have to wonder: If you vanished, who would remember you?
