The mirror is the same as the one Oikawa lived in. Behind its frame, where Miyuki couldn't see from outside, is nothing. It makes Miyuki's skin crawl. The emptiness feels like an all consuming void that's waiting for his death or him to enter it willingly — an endlessly patient guillotine of darkness. He doesn't look there much.

He watches the real world through the mirror, though there's rarely much to see. He stands and paces and talks out loud to himself, his head feeling wrong where his horns curl up, and talking is hardly any distraction but it's all he has.

Oikawa had never seen a car, or a train, Miyuki remembers. He wonders how long he was trapped in here before Miyuki made that deal. He fights with himself to try to be mad at him, but he never manages, and those are the times he cries and yells at the glass he can't pass through. More than anything, he misses having Oikawa to laugh at him being so stupid and emotional.