His reflection stares back at him, only if such a construct isn’t beyond his comprehension. Instead, an ever-present shadow glowers, his disposition ever so grounded, unmoving. The water is undisturbed, its clarity coagulating the surroundings and suspending him in this moment while he stares at this uninvited stranger. Hatred quickly blossoms from deep within him at the audacity of this stranger’s invasion. 

Unsurprisingly, they aren’t able to talk it out, or even mutter a “who are you?” before one of them lurches forward. Much to his surprise, he isn’t able to tell who the initiator is as their movements are in perfect synchronization. Alas, the concept of synchronicity eludes him just like his inability to recognize his own silhouette. 

The brawl continues, a perpetual cycle of moves and countermoves fanning his kindled hatred. Bitterness thickly coating his mind, seeping into the crevasses of his brain until he sputters like an overheated machine. Reality fades from his bloodshot eyes, which are bulging from his exertion as his only purpose becomes to overpower this intruder. 

Again and again, not one blow is able to connect. Broken and bleeding from the impacts, his taunts is as muffled as the surrounding water, never reaching his target on the other side of the glass. He is growing frail, his body hollow and ashen, the fire burning up inside him. 

Failure. 

He lost. 

He is worthless. 

Who is he anymore? 

What he couldn’t see is the stranger also falling to his knees, 

resigning, 

perishing from this encounter.