Sometimes, when they made love, it was like looking into a mirror.

Mana couldn't help but think that, anyway. Yue had the same beautiful, thick black hair that Mana did, and the two had the same pale skin, the same watery blue eyes, the same sweet pink lips. As they lay next to one another in Mana's bed, she couldn't help but stare at her softly sleeping lover––the way her chest rose and fell under the sheets, the way her lips hung pleasantly open as she sucked in the heady air surrounding them, the way her eyelids flickered from time to time as she doubtless fought monsters in a dream.

Mana loved her. She truly, truly did. She loved her silky little kimono, her perfect, smooth skin, the way she was as fierce as a tiger––she knew what she wanted, and she went after it with little to no inhibition. Yue was a strong woman, a fearless merchant, and an undoubtable role model for young Mana. In truth, the girl idolized her. She wanted to be just like her; have the freedom, the power, to do anything she wanted, to go anywhere, to see new things, meet new people. But mostly? To get away from her father.

Sure, she loved him, but he was just so bothersome, so annoyingly indulgent, so hesitant to let her go. He missed his wife, her mother, who had died some years ago in an earthquake. Mana missed her too. But it was times like these, as she lay in Yue's unconscious arms, their legs tangled together under the covers, so that they couldn't tell where one ended and the other began, that Mana found herself so perfectly content with her life, and with her world, that she couldn't possibly want for anything.

It was easy to fool her dad, anyway.

He was painfully daft, and he hadn't suspected anything out of the ordinary at the frequency of Yue's sleepovers at Mana's house. Ignorance, it seemed, was bliss. He would have never approved, anyway, if he knew, and his rejection was something Mana didn't think she could deal with. Freedom or no, she still thrived off her father's love and support, and if she lost it, she wasn't sure even Yue would be able to save her from the utmost depths of despair.

She started to drift off to sleep, her fingers tangled in Yue's hair, her chin resting gently on her shoulder. Soon enough, she was letting out the deep, slow breaths of a sleeping child, and it was to this sound that Yue awoke, and to this thought, as well––that Mana often looked like a child when she slept. An innocent, flawless little china doll, like she'd seen sold in neighboring villages, pink, pursed lips, thick black eyelashes, lightly flushed cheeks... she was perfect, Mana was. And Yue loved her.

But sometimes, she couldn't help but think, sometimes, that making love to her was quite like looking into a mirror. However, what was reflected was more than just their features.

She smiled, and closed her eyes, and went back to sleep with thoughts of Mana's glassy blue eyes peering into hers.