“My face looks weird,” Howl says. He’s been sitting in front of the mirror for the last ten minutes, just staring at himself, picking at every imperfection.

How do you even stand to look at him? You’re his roommate, too, you see him all the time.

Howl glances back at you. “Do you think I look ugly?” he asks, concerned you’re thinking the same thing as he is. He wants you to think he’s beautiful; not whatever he’s seeing in the mirror.