For some reason, I remember the line scribbled in my Japanese notebook. Vaguely, I can picture Taki Tachibana in my body, writing that note in my room in Itomori before he falls asleep. What a bizarre idea. Still, there’s something oddly persuasive about it. I take a felt-tip marker from the desk, and on the palm of my hand, I write:
Mitsuha
Yaaaawwn...l
That’s the third yawn. Unsurprisingly, today wore me out. It was a colorful, thrilling day. It feels as if I spent all of it getting pelted by a rainbow-colored shower. Even without background music, this world dazzled me from start to finish. I imagine how startled Taki Tachibana’s going to react when he sees the writing on his hand, and, smiling a little, I fall asleep.
“...What is this?”
I say the words aloud, despite myself. I’m staring at my hand.
Finally, I let my eyes drop from the letters on my palm down to my wrinkled uniform and necktie... So, what—I fell asleep without changing?
“—Wh.. .wh-what is this?!”
This time, I actually yell. We’re having breakfast, and my dad glances at me but promptly loses interest and returns his attention to his bowl. I stare at my phone, stunned. There’s a really long journal entry on it that I don’t remember writing.
...And on the way home from work, Okudera- senpai and I walked to the station together, just the two of us! It's all because I'm in touch with my feminine side.
“Taki, want to hit another cafe today?”
“Uh, sorry, I’ve got work after this.”
“Ha-ha. You know where to go?”
“Huh? .. .Hey! Tsukasa, you jerk, was that you?”
I raise my voice without meaning to. Actually, I wish it was him. Tsukasa’s puzzled expression tells me it wasn’t, though. Even I know there’s no reason somebody’d go to all that trouble for a prank.
Getting up from my chair, I reluctantly excuse myself:
“.. .Nah, never mind. See ya.”
As I leave the classroom, I hear Takagi’s voice behind me. Dude’s back to normal today.
An uneasy shiver shoots through me, and my feet get cold. Something very weird is happening to me.
“...Wh-what?”
After I change into my work clothes, three of my senior coworkers are standing outside the changing room when I open the door, blocking my way. There’s one regular staffer and two college part-timers, all guys, and they’re glaring at me with eyes that look bloodshot or maybe teary... Either way, not good. I swallow hard, and the three of them start in on me in menacing tones.
“Taki, you scumbag, whaddaya think you’re doing, getting a jump on us?” “You’d better have an excuse, weasel.” “You two left together yesterday, didn’t you?”
“Huh... Wait, no way—seriously?! I did? With Okudera-senpai?!”
Meaning that journal entry was real?!
“What happened with you two after that?!”
“Uh, no, I.. .1 really don’t remember much...”
“Don’t gimme that crap!”
Just as it looks like somebody’s gonna haul me up by my shirtfront, a cool voice echoes through the hall.
“Okudera, reporting for duty.”
Okudera-senpai arrives, her long, bare legs and the shoulders peeking out of her top gleaming in the light. She greets us with a smile, strappy sandals clicking pleasantly.
“Hello, everyone.”
“Hi!”
She’s sort of an idol at this place, and confronted with her stunning presence, the four of us reply in unison. For a moment, we almost forget about our problem. Then Okudera-senpai turns back and looks right at me.
“Let’s make it another good day. Okay, Taki?”
I can almost hear a heart symbol punctuating that sentence, so sweetly delivered, followed by a wink sent my way before she disappears through the door. I turn so red, it’s like somebody dumped boiling water over my head. This is way too much. I want to go polish all the glasses in the restaurant until they shine, right this minute.
“.Hey. Taki.”
The guys’ voices are so dark it’s as though they’re resounding from the depths of the Earth, and I come back to myself with a jolt.
—Not good. As the senior staff cross-examines me, almost wailing, I wonder:
What’s going on here? Are they pranking me? Is everybody in on it? ... Nah, couldn’t be. What’d I do while I was out of it?
What the heck is “Mitsuha ”?
The birds are energetically twittering away again this morning. There’s a newborn clarity to the early sun that streams in through the paper sliding doors, and the morning is peaceful, as usual. Even so, although I’ve just woken up, unfamiliar writing with a quality of pure, concentrated irritation is scrawled across my arm.
Mitsuha??? What are you??? Who are you???
The letters are big and messy, written roughly with a super-thick Magic Marker, from my palm all the way up to my elbow.
“Sis, what is that?”
When I look up, Yotsuha’s standing in the open sliding door. I make a face that says, That's what I want to know.
My little sister’s face replies, Well that doesn't really matter.
“You’re not feelin’ up your boobs today, huh? Break! Fast! Time! Hurry up!”
She shuts the sliding door with a sharp clack , just like always, and I watch her from my futon. Huh? Boobs? I’m “not feeling them up today”? ...Excuse me? My mind produces a gratuitous image of myself happily squeezing my own boobs... B-but that’s so perverted and gross!
Mornin’!” I say as I enter the classroom.
The minute I do, all my classmates’ eyes are on me. Eep! I give a little gasp. Wh-what? Trying to make myself small and inconspicuous, I cross to my seat by the window. I hear whispers.
“Miyamizuwas really cool yesterday, huh.”
“Uh-huh. I didn’t think she had it in her.”
“Her personality’s kinda changed, though, yeah?”
“U-um, people are lookin’ at me...”
“Well, what did you expect? After what you pulled yesterday, they can’t help it,” says Saya.
“‘What I pulled yesterday’?” I ask, sitting down.
Saya peers into my face, looking puzzled and worried.
—You know.. .durin’ art yesterday, when we were sketchin’ that still life.
Huh? You really don’t remember? Again? Honestly, Mitsuha, are you okay? You and me were in the same group. We were supposed to be drawin’ the vase and the apples—y’know, the subject that doesn’t make any sense. Except you sketched a landscape instead. Well, that bit doesn’t matter. Anyway, Matsumoto’s group was behind us, and they were talkin’ nasty, the way they always do.
What, you want to know? Um, well, about the mayoral election.
Huh? Details? Oh, you know, how the town administration is all just figurin’ out how to hand out subsidies, and it’s the same no matter who does it, but how there are “some kids” whose livelihood depends on it, et cetera. Dumb stuff like that. When you heard them, you said, “That’s me they’re talkin’ about, right?” So I said I thought it probably was. I mean, if you ask me, I’m gonna answer, right? Then, Mitsuha, what do you suppose you did?
You seriously don’t remember? You kicked the desk with the vase on it right toward Matsumoto’s group! And with a great big grin on your face! Matsumoto and the others got scared, and of course, the vase broke, and the whole class went dead quiet. Actually, you gave me the chills, too!
“Wh-wh-what in the world?”
I turn pale. After school, I run straight home. Yotsuha and Gran are in the living room, drinking tea without a care in the world. Glancing at them out of
the corner of my eye, I run up the stairs, shut myself in my room, and open my classics notebook. Who are you? it still reads. I turn a few more pages.
My skin crawls. Now there’s a whole two pages filled with small letters in the same handwriting. First, in big letters, Mitsuha Miyamizu. Then there are lots of question marks around it and bits of personal information about me.
Year 2\, Class 3 / Teshigawara***♂***friend\, occult geek\, dumb but a good guy / Sayaka***♀\, friend\, quiet\, kinda cute***
Lives with her grandma and her little sister Yotsuha / Way out in the sticks / Her dad is mayor / She's a shrine maiden? / Sounds like her mom is dead / Her dad doesn't live with them / Doesn't have many friends /
Has boobs
Then, in larger letters, What the heck is this life??
I stare at the notebook. I’m trembling. The scenery of Tokyo shimmers in my mind, as faint as a rising haze. Cafes, a part-time job, guy friends, walking home with someone...
A corner of my heart catches the tail of an impossible conclusion.
“Is this...? Could we be...?”
“Is this seriously...?”
I’m holed up in my room, staring at my phone in denial. For a while now, my fingers have been shaking as if they partly belong to somebody else as I scroll through the entries in my journal app. Sandwiched between the ones I wrote, there are several headers I don’t remember.
First Harajuku-Omotesando panini-rama! / At Odaiba aquarium with two boys / Observation platform tour and flea market / Visited father's workplace Kasumigaseki District!
A corner of my mind catches the tail of an inconceivable conclusion. Could this be...?
In my dreams, are this girl and I—
In my dreams, are this boy and I—
—switching bodies?!
The sun rises from the edge of the mountains. Little by little, the daylight washes over the lake town. The birds in the morning, the hush at midday, the insect songs in the evening, the glitter of the night sky.
The sun rises between the buildings. Little by little, the daylight glints oft countless windows. The throngs of people in the morning, the hum of midday, the scents of everyday life at half-light, the sparkle of the streets at night.
Over and over, we’re captivated by moments like these.
And, gradually, we learn.
Taki Tachibana—Taki—is a high school kid my age who lives in Tokyo, and...
At irregular intervals, unexpectedly, two or three times a week, I swap bodies with Mitsuha Miyamizu, who lives way out in the sticks. It triggers when we fall asleep. We have no idea what causes it.
Our memories of the time we spend switched fade as soon as we wake up. It feels like a lucid dream.
Even so, we’re definitely swapping. The reactions of the people around us prove it more than anything.
Now that we’re aware that we are actually switching with each other, we’re starting to hold on to bits of memories from the dreams. For example, at this point, even when I’m awake, I know there’s a boy named Taki who lives in Tokyo.
Now I’m positive there’s a girl named Mitsuha living in a country town somewhere. I don’t have any solid evidence or rational explanation, but I have this strange sense that tells me it’s real.
We’ve also started communicating with each other. On the days when we
switch, we leave diary entries or notes on each other’s smartphones.
We’ve tried texting and calling, too, but for some reason, neither of us could get through. Anyway, we’re lucky we figured out a way to communicate at all. We both need to keep each other’s lives intact and undisturbed... So we set rules.
• Absolutely no baths, ever.
• Do not look at or touch my body.
• When you sit, keep your legs together.
• Don't get too friendly with Tesshi. Try to get him and Saya together.
• Don't touch other boys.
• Don't touch the girls, either.
• I told you before, don't waste my money. Remember?
• Don't be late for school or work. Learn how to get there already.
• Don't talk with an accent.
• Are you sneaking baths? I think I smell shampoo...
• Don't get cuddly with Tsukasa, you idiot. People will get the wrong idea.
• Don't get too friendly with Okudera-senpai, I'm begging you.
- - -
**A Note from the Author Please Listen:*****
***Hello guys as you can see Im back and I will Continue to Write Again and try to be persistent in it. If you guys have any queries u can comment down below or join my discord:- ***https://discord\.gg/mEdUWeMZ8w
Now Back to Our Story-----------------------------------------
—But still... I grit my teeth reading another of Mitsuha’s journal entries. Reading Taki’s entry in my diary, my blood starts to boil. Honestly, I swear, this is just completely...
That guy...
is such a...!
That girl...
You "tore up the court" playing basketball in gym?! That's not me at all! Not only that, what are you doing jumping and bouncing around in front of the boys?! Saya even yelled at me and told me to keep my chest and stomach and legs covered properly! Male gazes! Watch your skirt! This is very basic stuff!!
▼
Mitsuha, you twit, don't go scarfing down crazy- expensive cakes! You're freaking outTsukasa and the other guys, and that's my money!
▼
It's your body eating them, Taki! Besides, I'm working at that restaurant, too! Plus, you're taking too many shifts. I can't do anything fun this way.
▼
That's because you keep burning through my money! And seriously, no matter what I do, I can't make those braided cords with your grandma!
▼
On the way home, Okudera-senpai and I stopped and had tea! I tried to buy hers for her, but she paid for mine instead. "Take me out when you graduate from high school," she said! Can you believe that? "That's a promise," I told her, all cool-like. Your relationship is blossoming, so, you're welcome.
▼
Mitsuha, what the hell do you think you're doing?! Don't go messing with my relationships!
▼
Taki! What is this love letter?! Why is some guy I don't know confessing to me?! Why did you tell him you'd "think about it"?!
▼
Ha-ha. You aren't using your assets at all. Don'cha think you'd be more popular if you let me run your life?
▼
Don't get full of yourself! You don't even have a girlfriend!
▼
You don't have anybody, either!
▼
It's not that... I don't have one—I'm just not looking!
It's not that...
That’s Mitsuha’s ringtone.
Meaning, I’m living in the country today, I think sleepily. Awesome. I’ll get to put in some more time on the cafe project I’m working on with Teshigawara after school. Yeah, and also—
I sit up on the futon and look down at my body.
Mitsuha’s pajamas have gotten really conservative lately. She used to sleep in a baggy nightshirt without a bra. This morning, though, she’s wearing underwear that’s kinda constricting and this shirt that’s buttoned up all the way. There’s no telling when we’re gonna swap, so she’s being careful. Well, I get that. I do. But.
I reach for her breasts. This is my body today. Nothing wrong with touching my own body, I think, just like always. Only. Except. But...
My hands pause, and I mutter quietly:
“.. .Guess I shouldn’t.”
The sliding door rattles open.
“.You really do like your boobs, don’t you. Sis?”
That’s all the little sister says before closing the sliding door. I watch her go.. .while kneading my breasts.
.. .This is okay, right? From on top of her clothes. Just a little.
“Graaaaan. Why’s the body of our shrine’s god all the way out here?” Yotsuha whines.
Gran, who’s walking in front of us, answers without turning around. “Thanks to Mayugorou, I don’t know, either.”
Mayugorou?
“.. .Who’s that?” I whisper to Yotsuha, who’s plodding along next to me.
“Huh? Youdunno? He’s famous.”
Famous? I don’t really get how these relationships work in the country.
The three Miyamizu women—me, the grandma, and Yotsuha—have been hiking mountain roads for almost an hour already. Today, they tell me, we’re taking an offering up to the body of their shrine’s god on top of the mountain.
These people are living in a folktale, I think, thoroughly impressed.
The sun shining through the canopy of maple leaves dyes them bright red. The air is crisp and dry, and there’s a strong scent of dead leaves in the pleasant wind. October. Who knows when it happened, but it’s full autumn in this town now.
Come to think of it, I wonder how old this old lady is.
The thought comes to me gazing at the small back ahead of me. Even on this mountain trail, she’s wearing traditional clothes. She’s a surprisingly strong walker, but her back has a textbook stoop, and she’s using a walking stick. I’ve never lived with an old person, so I can’t even begin to guess her age or what kind of shape she’s in.
“Hey, Grandma!”
I break into a run, then kneel in front of her, offering my back. After all, this little old lady is raising Mitsuha and her sister, and she always packs us really good lunches.
“Let me piggyback you. If you want...”
“Oh, may I?” Even as she speaks, she’s happily lowering her weight onto my back. I catch a distinct whiff of a mysterious fragrance I smelled once at somebody else’s house a very long time ago. For a moment, I get a strange, warm feeling, as if this moment has happened before. The old lady weighs nothing.
“Grandma, you’re way light— Whoa!”
The moment I stand, the added cargo buckles my (Mitsuha’s) knees. Yotsuha hastily supports me, complaining, “Come on, Sis!” Come to think of it, Mitsuha’s body is pretty flimsy and thin and light, too. Moving through the
world this way.. .it’s kinda amazing. The thought gets to me a bit.
“Mitsuha, Yotsuha.”
I hear the old lady’s voice over my shoulder, sounding serene.
“Are you familiar with musubi?"
“ Musubi?"
To be Continued........
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