ACT 3: Fly Me to the Moon
“All right, talk to you later, Mitsuki,” Yuuto said.
“Goodnight, Yuu-kun.” In a voice as soft as a whisper, Mitsuki Shimoya said goodbye to her childhood friend, and tapped the End Call icon on her smartphone’s touchscreen.
The room filled with silence, which gripped her heart with an inexpressible feeling of loneliness.
Mitsuki’s bedroom was cute and clean, with beige walls and pink curtains on the windows. Several stuffed animals, all cute wolves, sat in prominent positions on her bed and dresser.
There was one item in the room at odds with the otherwise feminine atmosphere: On top of her study desk lay an old, rusted antique mirror.
It was the divine mirror that had been enshrined in the altar of the Tsukimiya Shrine in the forest, the catalyst for Yuuto’s transportation to Yggdrasil.
Most parents wouldn’t allow a girl in middle school to go out late at night, and Mitsuki’s parents were no exception, but she had wanted to be able to stay in contact with Yuuto. So, she had borrowed the divine mirror from the shrine instead.
Of course, she hadn’t stolen it or anything like that.
“It really is a strange coincidence,” she murmured to herself, picking up the mirror.
Mitsuki had tried to track down the person in charge of the shrine, intending to beg them to lend her the mirror, only to find out it was her own grandfather.
As it turned out, the Shimoya family line had a long history in the area as a family of high standing and honor, in charge of administering the local Shinto rituals for a long very long. So for generation after generation, a Shimoya had been the manager and head priest of the Tsukimiya Shrine.
This fact had been a complete surprise to Mitsuki. Her father was a completely normal office worker who worked long hours day and night, and had never hinted at that sort of family background.
According to her grandfather, the shrine had already been in decline by his generation. In the chaotic period after the end of the Second World War, he hadn’t been able to make ends meet, and had been forced to close it down.
Still, that didn’t change the fact that he was the right and lawful owner of the mirror. And as a grandfather with only one granddaughter to dote on, he was willing to grant her request without question.
“And it really is made from álfkipfer, too...” she murmured.
She’d already confirmed that when exposed to moonlight, the mirror surrounded itself with a very faint glow. It was imperceptible right now due to the lights in her room being on, but if she were to turn them off, she would be able to see it.
That lined up with the description of items made from álfkipfer, the magical metal Yuuto had told her about.
“Awww, I can’t stop wondering where it came from!” she cried.
She set the mirror down and returned to her bed, where she vented her frustration by grabbing a pillow and hitting it against the mattress a few times.
Even her grandfather had no idea how the mirror had come to be owned by the Shimoya family, only that it had been passed down through the family line for ages.
That mirror was made from a material that otherwise couldn’t be found anywhere on modern-day Earth, a material that seemed to only exist in Yggdrasil, where Yuuto was now.
How had something like that ended up in Japan, passed down for generations at the Tsukimiya Shrine?
Wouldn’t solving that riddle go a long way towards revealing the truth behind the mysterious world of Yggdrasil, whose actual era and location were still shrouded in doubt?
Mitsuki had no solid proof that was the case, but those thoughts and questions were on her mind a lot these days.
Mitsuki Shimoya was a third-year student at Hachio Municipal Middle School.
Height: 155 centimeters. Weight: 46 kilograms.
She didn’t belong to any school clubs, and both her academic and athletic performance were barely above the mean. There was nothing particularly special or redeeming about her; she was just a perfectly plain, ordinary girl you might find anywhere.
Or so she believed.
“Oh come on, you’re the only one who thinks you’re plain!”
It was lunch break, and the girl sitting across from Mitsuki made an exasperated face. She punctuated her objection with a flat-handed horizontal chop, aimed right at Mitsuki’s ample chest.
“Kh! It bounced... right off?! Mitsuki, what a terrifying girl you are!”
“Geez, don’t do that, Ruri-chan!” Mitsuki held a hand to her chest, blushing, while her friend made an exaggerated pose like she had been thrown backwards.
The girl’s name was Ruri Takao. She and Mitsuki had been inseparable friends since their third year of elementary school.
She was flat-chested.
Totally, unreasonably flat.
So flat that the meaner boys at school teased her for it, calling her heartless nicknames like “Little Boobs on the Prairie.”
Ruri had an older female cousin she looked up to and adored, who was blessed with everything: surpassing intellect, superior athletic talent, and exceptional good looks — but even she was lacking in that one area, apparently. It was likely just one of those things that runs in the family.
“Grrr, it’s not fair! Hand ’em over! Come on, I only need a little! Just give... me... some!” Ruri suddenly lunged at Mitsuki’s breasts, grabbing and rubbing them forcefully.
“Wha— Ruri-chan, sto— ahh!”
Mitsuki pushed Ruri off of her and hurriedly crossed both arms over her chest to guard it as best she could.
She knew that Ruri had only meant it as just a harmless joke, but she could tell that all the boys in class were staring right at her. She was so flushed with embarrassment it felt like her face was on fire.
Ruri noticed the stares too, and apologized, awkwardly scratching the back of her head with one hand. “...Ah. Sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”
She wasn’t a bad girl or anything, but from time to time she had a habit of acting in the moment without thinking. According to Ruri herself, that personality trait was exactly like another cousin of hers, an older boy.
Mitsuki found herself thinking that it wasn’t good to excuse every trait as being due to family genetics.
“No, it’s okay, Ruri,” Mitsuki said kindly. “But... it’s not really all that great, you know? The looks I get from boys at times like right now are really uncomfortable, and my back and shoulders get stiff and achy.”
“Even so! Even so...! Please, this is the desperate wish of my people!” Ruri slammed her hands on the table top to punctuate her fervent petition.
“You have a people?!” Unsure how to react, Mitsuki could only manage a dry, nervous laugh.
It was true that Ruri didn’t have breasts, but she was still good-looking, with a pretty face and a bright, friendly, and easy-to-talk-to manner that made her pretty popular with the boys. As far as Mitsuki knew, Ruri had already been on the receiving end of several love confessions.
Mitsuki didn’t think it was something Ruri should be so concerned over. Then again, perhaps Ruri was watching the bodies of all the girls around her starting to mature and was starting to feel like she was being left behind. Maybe that was what was getting her so worked up.
“So please tell me, what’s the secret to getting them so big?! Please, I implore you, Mitsuki my goddess!”
The other girls eating lunch around the table chimed in. “Oh, tell me too!”
“Yeah, me too, me too.”
They were, after all, girls in their final year of middle school. This was a topic any girl of their age would be interested in.
“You all say that, but... I haven’t really done anything special,” Mitsuki said, perplexed.
Ruri, however, didn’t appear to accept that. “Objection!!”
She pointed dramatically at Mitsuki with her chopsticks.
“We’re in our third year of junior high, so I can’t consider it to be just because of good genes! That’s when the thought hit me: People always say we are what we eat, right?”
“Er, um, right.”
“So on that note... Yoink!”
“Ahh—!”
It was over before Mitsuki could even voice a reaction. With movements as quick as lightning, Ruri’s chopsticks snatched away one of the omelette rolls from her lunch box.
Ruri took her time chewing her ill-gotten gains, savoring the flavor, and then with her eyes closed gave a long, enchanted sigh.
“Ahh, Mitsuki’s lunches really are the most delicious! You’ve gotten even better, too.”
“Oooh, really? Let me have a taste.”
“Ah, I wanna try it too.”
“Me too, me too!”
“Wha— Wait, everyone, what are you...?!”
As three more pairs of chopsticks reached in from different directions all at once, Mitsuki couldn’t do anything except watch, teary-eyed, as all of her side dishes were stolen away.
“Mmm, you’re right, she is getting better.”
“Whoa, what is this?! I’ve never tried Mitsuki’s before, but this is so good!”
“It really is crazy good. Mitsuki, you made this yourself, right? Not your mom?”
“Eh, u-um, y-yes, that’s right. Eheheh, is it really that tasty?” Mitsuki stammered, smiling bashfully.
Whatever else, hearing them praise the food she’d made and call it delicious was a pretty good feeling.
Just hearing that alone was more than enough for her to forgive losing a few side dishes from her lunch, though even she thought that was probably a little too soft of her. But she also knew that afterwards, each of these girls would pay her back with some of the side dishes from their own box lunches.
Ruri nodded to herself knowingly. “Yeah, I can tell, this is the power of a young girl in love. Mitsuki, what a terrifying girl you are!”
“Wha— Ruri-chan?!” Mitsuki exclaimed.
The other classmates leaned forward eagerly.
“Ohhh, that childhood friend I’ve heard rumors about? You must really like him.”
“He’s a year older, right?”
“You’re working this hard for the sake of a boy who’s gone so far away... Hee hee, Mitsuki, you really are the faithful and devoted sort, aren’t you?”
“Nnnh...”
As the praise turned into playful teasing, Mitsuki’s face turned bright red and she looked down, embarrassed and unable to speak.
A short distance away behind her, there were more than a dozen male classmates of hers burning with the murderous flames of jealousy, at this childhood friend of hers they’d never even met. But that subject is a story for another time.
“Ruri-chan, I’ve told you before! Please don’t talk about Yuu-kun at school.” Mitsuki puffed out her cheeks in frustration as she took exception with her friend.
Classes were over, and they were on the road home from school. It was still only just past four in the afternoon, but the sun had already begun to set. Now that it was December, evening came quickly each day.
As the sun sank into the western horizon, it painted with a reddish tint the wide fields and the tile roofs of old-fashioned Japanese-style homes. It was scenery typical of the rural countryside.
That said, one could see the signs of encroaching modern life here and there: The roads were all fully paved with asphalt, many of the homes had personal cars and trucks parked outside, and the houses themselves had air-conditioning units and satellite antennas.
“Ruri-chan, you know it’ll cause problems for me if they ask for more details,” Mitsuki continued, her anger quickly giving way to unease.
Her childhood friend, Yuuto Suoh, had been transported to an alternate world known as Yggdrasil, where he was now ruling as some sort of lord.
Of course, one mention of that would be enough for the others at school to see her as one of those cringeworthy, delusional types who believed her own fantasies, that much was clear. It had already been made painfully apparent to her two and a half years ago.
Life for girls centered around maintaining a good image and reputation among one’s peer group, much more so than for the boys. Mitsuki had already gotten her fill of having to endure strange looks from the people around her.
“Umm, so about Tama-chan, did you know she’s got a thing for Ikeda-kun?” Ruri asked.
“Huh?” Mitsuki tilted her head. “Why did you change the subject? By Ikeda-kun, do you mean the one in our class?”
There was a boy with the last name of Ikeda in their class, and Tama-chan was the nickname of one of the girls in their group of friends. Mitsuki was a bit confused by the seemingly unrelated topic.
“Yup, that’s the one,” Ruri replied.
“Wooow, really? I didn’t know. Huh... Well, I’m rooting for her, then!”
“But, as it turns out, Ikeda-kun’s got a thing for you, Mitsuki.”
“Wha— Huh?! Eeeeehhhhh?! That’s a problem! That’s a huge problem!”
“Yeah, it is, so that’s why I took the initiative and made sure everyone heard that there’s already someone you have feelings for.”
“Oh...” The dots finally connected in Mitsuki’s head.
So that was why, during that conversation at lunchtime, Tama-chan had been the one talking the loudest, saying things like, “Ohhh, that childhood friend I’ve heard rumors about? You must really like him!” and “You’re working this hard for the sake of a boy who’s gone so far away... Hee hee, Mitsuki, you really are the faithful and devoted sort, aren’t you?”
She’d done it so she could make sure Ikeda-kun would hear that, and hopefully give up on Mitsuki.
Ruri went on, “You’re kind of oblivious sometimes when it comes to stuff like this, Mitsuki. I was really worried about you.”
“...Thanks, Ruri-chan.”
“You’re welcome. No one likes being rejected, but I know having to reject someone feels awful, too.”
“Yeah.” Mitsuki nodded meekly. She understood that wasn’t all that this had been about.
Ruri hadn’t just been protecting Mitsuki from having to deal with Ikeda-kun’s feelings, but from Tama-chan’s, as well. By extension, she had been protecting the harmony of their whole group.
If Ikeda-kun had actually gone on to confess his feelings to Mitsuki, it wouldn’t have mattered whether she accepted or rejected him; it still would have worsened Tama-chan’s impression of her, and might even have ruined the atmosphere within their circle.
Mitsuki shuddered at the realization that she had been walking on a social minefield without even realizing it.
There was nothing as fragile and unreliable as a woman’s friendship when matters of love were involved.
“Honestly, I can’t believe that guy, just leaving such a cute, kind, and lovable childhood friend in the lurch like this,” Ruri said indignantly. “Like, hurry up and get your ass back here already!” Ruri slammed her fist into the palm of her other hand.
She hadn’t mentioned him by name, but it went without saying who she was talking about. From her body language, she looked more than ready to belt him one if he did make it back.
“Hey, Yuu-kun’s doing everything he can to find a way back home, so don’t say things like that!” Mitsuki exclaimed.
“Yeah, well, I’m not so sure. Looks to me more like he’s living it up surrounded by a bunch of cute girls hanging all over him. Hmph!” With that, Ruri turned up her nose in contempt.
Ruri was the one and only person with whom Mitsuki was sharing information on Yuuto’s current situation. Back when the incident had first happened, none of the adults would believe Mitsuki’s story, but Ruri had listened to her seriously and trusted that she was telling the truth.
From that point on, Ruri had become Mitsuki’s closest and most trusted friend.
“Ah ha ha... I had him send me pictures of everyone, and... it’s true, they really are all pretty, you know.” After a bit of a dry laugh, Mitsuki sunk down with a gloomy expression.
Yuuto was always insisting that they were nothing more than his sworn siblings and daughters within the clan, but to a young maiden in love, it was still a source of worry.
“B-but... I believe in Yuu-kun!” Mitsuki added quickly.
“Even though the two of you haven’t actually confessed to each other?”
“Urk!”
Mitsuki’s words stuck in her throat, as Ruri had struck a sore spot.
For better or worse, Ruri was the kind of girl who always spoke exactly what was on her mind at the moment.
“W-well, that’s... that’s because he’s going to tell me when he makes it back home... I’m pretty sure of it.”
Even just by talking to Yuuto over the phone, Mitsuki had come to realize how he truly felt for her. And she could also tell that he was holding back, deliberately avoiding saying anything definitive on that subject.
He was her childhood friend; she knew how strong his sense of responsibility was. He was probably holding back for her sake, not wanting to tie her down when he had no guarantee that he’d be able to come back to her world.
She knew that was his way of doing what he thought was the right and responsible thing, but it also left her feeling frustrated and impatient.
“Is he going to tell you, though?” Ruri shot Mitsuki a doubtful look. “That guy’s got a real old-fashioned type of mindset, right? Old-fashioned Japanese men are, like, super bashful and shy when it comes to their feelings. Take my late grandpa, for example. Apparently he only ever told my grandma he loved her the one time, and that was on his deathbed.”
“Well, I still think that sounds like they were a really happy couple in their own way, though,” Mitsuki replied. From her perspective, the fact that they’d stayed together for decades, still able to love each other right to the very end, was wonderful and romantic.
“I don’t know. Even now, my grandma still complains about it a lot. Like, ‘If you were going to say it after all, then say it earlier, too!’ Stuff like that.”
“O-oh, I see.” Mitsuki tensed up, unable to say much else.
In the end, reality wasn’t such a neat and tidy thing.
On the other hand, since Ruri’s grandmother wished her husband had told her he loved her more, one could interpret that as meaning she’d always loved him, so in the end they still really were a happy couple.
“Then there’s that really famous story about the author Natsume Sōseki, where one of his students translated the English phrase ‘I love you’ directly into Japanese, and he...”
“Ohh, I know that one! He told the student to translate it as ‘The moon is beautiful,’ right?”
“Right, right. He was basically saying, ‘You think a Japanese person would ever say such an embarrassing thing directly?!’”
“Ughhh, now I’m starting to get the feeling Yuu-kun’s not going to confess to me, after all...” Once more, Mitsuki’s face was overshadowed by gloom and her shoulders drooped depressingly.
“In that case, why don’t you just tell him first?” Ruri asked.
“Wh-whaaaat?!”
“Is it something to act that surprised over? Christmas is the day after tomorrow. This is the perfect opportunity, right?”
“Um, yeah. Yeah, you’re right, but, um...” Mitsuki began to stumble over her words, looking down as her face turned beet red.
Now that the shoe was on the other foot, she found herself wondering whether it was all right for her to tie Yuuto down when it wasn’t certain whether they would ever meet again. And she wondered if girls like Felicia and Linnea, who could actually be there with him, would be a better match for him anyway. Those intrusive thoughts brought her heart to a standstill.
As befitting childhood friends who’d grown up together, this was one of the ways in which Yuuto and Mitsuki were much the same at heart.
“Good grief. If that’s how you are, I think the both of us are going to end up having a lonely Christmas this year,” Ruri said with a bitter smile.
“Both of us? But Ruri-chan, you’re popular. You could have a boyfriend if you wanted.”
“Mm, yeah, but I don’t really find the boys our age to be all that attractive, so...” With a pensive finger on her lip, Ruri’s gaze drifted into space, as if looking at something in her mind’s eye.
Those words and that body language were enough to clue Mitsuki in.
Mitsuki stepped close to Ruri and leaned in front of her, turning to look up at her with a mischievous little grin. “Hmmmmm. I see.”
“Wh-what?!”
“You have someone you like already. Someone older.”
“Urk.” Now it was Ruri’s turn to have her voice catch in her throat. Crap, she figured it out! was written all over her face.
It was human nature to want to press for more details in a situation like this. All over the world, in times past and present, talking about love and relationships was a favorite activity for girls, and Mitsuki was no exception.
“I never knew you had someone like that in your life, Ruri-chan,” Mitsuki teased.
“I-it doesn’t matter! Forget about me! Right now we’re talking about you, so—”
“Aww, don’t be like that. We’re friends, aren’t we? I wish you’d tell me more.”
“Look, it’s not interesting enough to even be worth telling you about, okay?”
“I can decide that after you tell me.”
“Urgh...” Ruri was unable to bear the pressure from Mitsuki’s persistent stare, and as she struggled to think of an excuse to get out of talking, she took one step back, and then another.
Without missing a beat, Mitsuki stepped forward each time.
Realizing she couldn’t win, Ruri averted her gaze and spoke in a hesitant murmur. “...It’s my older cousin.”
“Ohh, so that’s who it is. But I don’t see why you’d have to keep it a secret. Cousins can get married in Japan, after all.”
“He’s already got a girlfriend. A real pretty one.”
“Oh, I see. So you’re sort of stuck carrying a torch right now.”
“...Yeah.”
“Well, um, you know, Ruri-chan, you always hear me out when I’m feeling down or need to complain about things. So if you ever need to get something off your chest, just talk to me, okay? I’ll be here to listen.”
“Yeah, okay. Thanks.” Ruri smiled, but it was a lonely smile in contrast to the bright, energetic girl that she usually was.
The air between the two girls grew heavy and they both trailed off into silence for a while, the only sound being their footsteps on the pavement.
Suddenly, Ruri threw both arms straight up and shouted towards the sky. “Arrrghh! This kind of depressing attitude is way too out of character for me!”
She whirled around to face Mitsuki and yelled, “Mitsuki! You’re free for Christmas, right?!”
“Er, uh, yeah, I am. I don’t have anyone to be with, after all.”
“All right, then, come over to my place!”
“Huh?”
“Big Sis Saya... that is, my older cousin Saya is coming back home from overseas for the first time in a year. And since it’s just in time for Christmas and all, we’re planning to go all-out with a big party. So you should come, too!”
“Um, b-but if it’s a gathering for your family, I’m not sure it’d be proper for me to...”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. Big Sis Saya is bringing some friends of hers, too. Come on! The more, the merrier!”
“Hmm, but, umm...” Mitsuki hesitated, deliberating over what to do.
She wasn’t a particularly socially outgoing girl to begin with. Being surrounded by a bunch of strangers at a party felt like something that would wear her out.
I’m grateful for the invitation, but... Mitsuki had already thought up a polite way to decline the offer, but just as she was about to speak the words, a stray thought came to mind, not unlike a flash of inspiration.
“H-hey, Ruri-chan. That cousin Saya of yours, she’s the one who’s really smart, right?”
“Er, yeah, that’s right. She’s unbelievably crazy smart!”
“So, um, I was just wondering, but, would she happen to know anything about, like, archeology or ancient history?”
Mitsuki didn’t have any particular logic or belief driving her question. It was just that the previous night, she had been wondering about the origin of the divine mirror from the Tsukimiya Shrine, and it was still on her mind a bit, so she figured she might as well ask.
But perhaps the word “fateful” had been coined for exactly this sort of instinctive action.
For, as it so happened, this unassuming question would come to greatly shape the destinies of both Mitsuki and Yuuto.
The following morning, Mitsuki was already on her way to visit the Takao family home.
She’d figured that there wouldn’t be much chance for a long, serious talk in the middle of a Christmas party. But today was the perfect opportunity. It was December 23rd, a public national holiday celebrating the Emperor’s birthday.
When Mitsuki was led into the living room, a beautiful woman with blonde hair and blue eyes greeted her with a friendly wave. Her appearance was quite at odds with the room, which was decorated in a classic Japanese Showa Era style.
“Welcome to our home, Mitsuki-chan,” the woman said. “I’m Saya Takao. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
She was Ruri’s blood relative, so naturally her facial features were quite similar to her cousin’s, but as expected of a woman seven years older, there was an aura of adult allure about her, one that a younger girl could never hope to imitate. She was just the kind of woman the term “cool beauty” was meant for.
“U-um, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Mitsuki said hesitantly. “I’m Mitsuki Shimoya. Thank you for seeing me today.”
A little nervous, Mitsuki bowed her head politely.
“You must be cold. Please, get in the kotatsu and make yourself comfortable.”
“Y-yes, thank you.”
Accepting Saya’s hospitality, Mitsuki removed and folded up her coat, then sat down and put her legs under the kotatsu blanket.
Saya looked at Mitsuki quietly for a moment, eyes sparkling with interest, before saying, almost casually, “So, I hear your childhood friend got sent to an alternate world back in time?”
“Ngh...!” Mitsuki hadn’t expected this, and she instinctively turned to look at Ruri, who was sitting next to her.
Ruri shrugged, with a bit of a guilty laugh. It seemed that she’d already told Saya some of the story already.
“You don’t believe me, right?” Mitsuki said, sighing dejectedly.
She knew it was grasping at straws, but the possibility of getting a clue had convinced her to screw up her courage and come here today. Yet that courage was already on the verge of cracking.
Looks like the one she was getting now, eyes that were looking at something interesting... she’d experienced them many times since that day two and a half years ago, but she’d never gotten used to them. In her experience, a look like that meant the other person wasn’t going to take her seriously, and in the end she’d only have her feelings hurt.
“Ahhh, no, no, don’t jump to conclusions,” Saya said quickly.
“No, it’s all right. Even I know how absurd it sounds.”
After these two and a half years, Mitsuki was used to the knowledge that no one would believe her. The police, the adults at her school, her classmates, her parents and grandparents... none of them would take her seriously. Ruri, and one other person, were the only exceptions.
Asking someone to believe the story of some girl they’d only just met was completely unreasonable; Mitsuki understood as much herself.
“No, you’ve really got it all wrong,” Saya said. “It’s just that I was thinking to myself, ‘Ahh, I must have an affinity for getting involved in this sort of thing...’ That’s the only reason I reacted that way.”
“An... affinity for getting involved?” Mitsuki stared blankly at Saya, who giggled to herself as if remembering something from long ago.
“Yes, it was about four years ago now... Well, a whole lot happened.”
“Um, I see...”
“Anyway, my story isn’t important right now. We’re here to talk about this friend of yours stuck in the past, right? So, have you ever heard the term ‘OOPArts’ before?”
Mitsuki nodded. “Yes, it’s a name used to describe objects that don’t match the civilization of the era they’re supposed to be from. They should have been impossible to create using the knowledge or technology of the culture at the time. Things like those famous crystal skulls. OOPArts is an abbreviation of the English name ‘out-of-place artifacts,’ right?”
Ever since Yuuto had been sent to Yggdrasil, Mitsuki had done some amount of research of her own. This was one subject she definitely knew about.
After all, Yuuto had been, and still was, continuously creating just such a phenomenon in that world of the past.
“Mm-hm, that’s right,” said Saya. “That’s exactly right. So, surprisingly enough, in archeology, those things are a lot more common than you might think. Take the Sumerians in ancient Mesopotamia as an example. It’s like they appeared out of nowhere, only to create a high-level civilization that was oddly way more advanced than the standard for that era. It’s one of the greatest mysteries in archeology today. Of course, if a person from further in the future had somehow been spirited away to the past, that would make things consistent.”
“So, you’ll believe me?”
“I can’t guarantee that just yet; that would be dishonest. But I can tell you right now that I’m not going to just stubbornly reject your story out of hand, just because the premise doesn’t sound scientifically feasible.” Saya’s voice was serious and genuine, and she looked Mitsuki straight in the eye as she continued. “So, could you tell me about it in full detail? I don’t think I got all the relevant information just hearing about it secondhand from Ruri. After I’ve heard the whole story from you, then I’ll decide whether I can believe it or not.”
“Thank you... thank you very much,” Mitsuki said. Saya’s sincere and honest response had made a good impression on her.
If Saya had easily proclaimed she believed the story, then Mitsuki would have assumed, based on her past experiences, that Saya was just saying that to get the talk over with. Of course, Mitsuki did know it was unfair of her to think like that.
“Okay, so first... Hmm, yes,” Saya said. “Start by telling me about what happened that first night, when you did that test of courage.”
“Okay. That night...”
“Hmm, a world in the Bronze Age, called Yggdrasil. Hmmmmm...” Saya muttered to herself deep in thought, one hand on her chin.
As for Ruri, she was snoozing away, with a floor cushion for a pillow and her lower half under the warm kotatsu.
It had been just past noon when Mitsuki arrived at the Takao residence, but the blue sky outside was already turning a darker shade of blue.
True to her word, for several hours Saya had listened to Mitsuki’s whole story seriously — enthusiastically, even. Several times she stopped her to ask questions or request more details.
For Mitsuki, that alone was enough to move her almost to tears.
Mitsuki swore to herself that even if she didn’t find the clue she was looking for, she would properly thank this woman. Not just in words, but with something well-thought-out that properly expressed her feelings of gratitude.
“This is too detailed and fleshed out for just a story made up by a middle-schooler,” Saya said. “That’s especially true for all of the minor details about daily life for the people in that world.”
Right after swearing gratitude in her heart, Mitsuki suddenly felt like she’d been dropped off a cliff. “I — I didn’t make it up! It’s true, so please believe me!” she pled with tears in her eyes.
Saya chuckled at this and shrugged her shoulders. “Yes, I know. I’m saying I believe you didn’t make it up.”
“Oh... Thank you so much!!” Joy spread across Mitsuki’s face, and she bowed her head to Saya over and over. Emotionally speaking, she was ready to start calling her “Big Sister.”
“But... I’m sorry,” Saya continued in a remorseful tone. “I still can’t say I have any idea just where or when your childhood friend got sent to.”
“Oh, I see,” Mitsuki said, her shoulders drooping. It felt like this day was just a constant roller-coaster of being elated and disappointed.
Saya thoughtfully tapped her finger on the kotatsu’s table top. “Hmm, there were quite a few words that show up in ancient Norse mythology, but in lots of places it’s quite ‘off’ from the Norse mythology I know.”
“Yuu-kun said the same thing to me. He said that when he tried researching that, it wasn’t useful at all as a reference.”
“Right, but still, there are a few things that stick out to me.”
“Stick out?”
“Yes. For example, this friend of yours is called Hróðvitnir, meaning ‘Infamous Wolf,’ as a sort of alias, right?”
“Um, yes, that’s right. Is there something important about that?”
“That’s one of the alternate names for Fenrir.”
“...Huh?!” Even Mitsuki had heard of that name. It was the monstrous wolf who was foretold to one day devour the leader of the Norse gods, Odin. It was one of the most well-known big names in Norse mythology.
“And then, there’s that ruler of the Lightning Clan, who has runes called Megingjörð and Mjǫlnir, the ‘Belt of Strength’ and ‘Shatterer,’ respectively. He absolutely evokes the Norse god of battle, Thor. Your friend defeated him with a flash flood by using the old Chinese ‘sandbag’ strategy, right?”
“Umm, I think that’s it. At least, I remember he said he caused a big flood in order to beat him.” Mitsuki remembered the basic details of the tactic, but not its historical name.
“In Norse mythology, there’s a giant serpent called Jörmungandr who fights Thor three times. In Snorri Sturluson’s Prose Edda, there’s a tale about how at the end times of the world, Ragnarök, Jörmungandr covers the land with a great flood of seawater.”
“Wh-whaaat?!” Mitsuki went wide-eyed at the mention of yet another famous name.
In her mind, it was so hard to connect the childhood friend she’d known forever to tales of such mythical gods and monsters. It didn’t feel real.
“Ah, that reminds me, you never told me his full name, did you?” Saya asked.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” Mitsuki realized that she hadn’t referred to him as anything other than “Yuu-kun.”
Before the flustered girl could say another word, Saya held up a hand to stop her, and smiled mischievously. “Hold on. I’ll make a little prediction. Just a guess, but in Japanese order, family name first, does it start with an ‘S’ syllable and end with a ‘T’ syllable?”
“Huh?! Y-yes, that’s right, it’s ‘Suoh Yuuto,’ but, h-how did you know that?”
“Ahhh, yes, that’s just the kind of name it would be.” Saya nodded to herself in satisfaction.
“Um...?”
“Oh, it’s just that with Fenrir and Jörmungandr and Ragnarök on the table, I figured that might be the next sort of name that showed up.”
“Er, what do you mean?” Mitsuki felt like she had been left completely behind.
“Well, Yuuto-kun’s Japanese, right? So unless he’s a half-Japanese like me or something like that, it means he’s got black hair and black eyes.”
“Okay...” Mitsuki tilted her head, not entirely sure how this all fit together.
Saya chuckled. “So, according to Norse mythology, in the end times of Ragnarök, there’s a certain giant who shows up, with a name that means ‘the Black One.’”
“Oh! What sort of giant is it? I-is it one of the more famous names?”
“Yes, it is. It’s about as famous as they come, I think. According to prophecy, during Ragnarök, he’ll arrive leading the armies of Múspell on horseback, crossing the bridge across the heavens known as the Bifröst, invading the domain of the gods, Asgard, and going on set ablaze all of the Nine Worlds...”
“Ah... ahhh!” At last, Mitsuki recalled the giant’s name, as well. It was a mythical figure even greater and more powerful than Fenrir or Jörmungandr.
Seeing the recognition in Mitsuki’s eyes, Saya nodded solemnly, and spoke the name aloud.
“That’s right. It’s Surtr.”
“Perhaps over time, the name ‘Suoh Yuuto’ got mispronounced or corrupted in the retelling, and became Surtr,” Saya said. “Hmm, and by that same token, Mitsuki-chan’s family name Shimoya bears a resemblance to the name of Surtr’s wife Sinmara, at least in its alternate spelling of Sinmora. Thinking along that track, some of the lines from the poem Fjölsvinnsmál are pretty interesting. ‘Lævatein is there, that Loptr with runes once made by the doors of death; In Laegjarn’s chest by Sinmora lies it, and nine locks fasten it firm.’ Should we assume that ‘Lævatein’ refers to a sword, the nihontou, or is it more metaphorically referring to the knowledge of modern science itself?”
Saya was muttering to herself endlessly, working her way through a few different theories.
She was very much like a typical scholar, in that once she got immersed in her own thoughts, she seemed to ignore everyone and everything around her.
Which wasn’t going to help Mitsuki any.
“E-excuse me!” she called to Saya, her voice more than a little troubled.
“O-oh, sorry about that. What is it?” Saya seemed to come back to her senses, and looked up.
“So, um, this is all a bit confusing, and I’m not sure I totally understand what’s going on,” Mitsuki confessed. “Are you saying that Yuu-kun is, like... living out the story of Norse mythology?”
Frankly speaking, this was all out of left field for her.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t deny that she had neglected to do more detailed research into Norse mythology. After all, the initial discovery had been that there were large differences between things in the world of Yggdrasil and in things in Norse mythology, and that had made an impression on her.
And then there was the fact that Mitsuki’s time was pretty limited to begin with.
In order to get permission to work her part-time job delivering newspapers, one of the conditions she had to meet was to make sure her grades stayed high and never dropped. And as a third-year, she had high school entrance exams to study for in addition to her normal homework. It was all she could manage to just look up the things Yuuto specifically needed in order to support him.
Yuuto had even less time, at most thirty minutes each day. In order for him to survive in that harsh other world, both of them had to focus on the most practical matters with their limited time.
“Mm... it’s not quite that,” Saya said. “You could say it’s more like he’s creating the original thing, the events those myths and poems were later based on.”
“The original...?”
“The prevailing theory right now is that Norse mythology as we know it developed in northern Europe sometime between 1000 B.C. and the birth of Christ. Now then, what era did you say Yuuto-kun was sent to?”
“Um, we’re not certain, but he said it was probably sometime around 1500 B.C., give or take... oh. That’s way before the myths were formed...”
Mitsuki realized that this had been another blind spot for her. Myths and legends carried an image of being from very ancient times, despite still being present in the modern day as knowledge and as part of pop culture. They just felt like something that had always been there, so she hadn’t thought too deeply about their origin.
“There are quite a few cases where myths and fairy tales have had real historical events or people as the basis for elements of their story,” Saya said. “One of the most famous examples is the legendary city of Troy, which appears in Greek mythology. And in Japanese folklore, there’s the story of Momotaro, right? If you trace it back, there’s one theory that it’s based on events during the Yamato Period, when the Yamato administration fought with and subjugated its rival the Kingdom of Kibi.”
“W-wow, really?!” It was astonishing to think that the classic fairy tale of Momotaro had that sort of history behind it.
For some reason, Mitsuki recalled a time back when Yuuto had just entered middle school. He’d said to her, “You know the story of Momotaro from back in the Edo Period? He wasn’t born out of a peach, he was born when the old man and woman ate a peach and did the hustle, if you know what I mean.”
She could still remember vividly how embarrassed she’d gotten, and how Yuuto had enjoyed making her blush like that.
“Hmm, it’s just as likely to be coincidence, but I see some similarities between that story and what’s happening with Yuuto-kun now,” Saya said. “You see, there’s this hypothesis about the basis for the oni in the story of Momotaro: Those ogres he goes off to fight might be based on foreigners from overseas who settled in the region and shared with the people of the Kingdom of Kibi advanced technologies like iron weapons and shipbuilding. As evidence, in the area that used to be Kibi Province — today that would be in Okayama Prefecture — there are places where Ura, the king of the oni from the tale, is a venerated figure.”
“W-wow, really? Th-that’s true, it does sort of resemble—” Mitsuki suddenly stopped, as the realization hit her:
The oni had all been defeated in the end. That was how it went in the fairy tales... and in the history they were based on.
In an instant, Mitsuki’s teeth began chattering, and she clasped her arms around her own body to try to suppress her terror.
“Wh-what’s wrong, Mitsuki-chan?!”
“F-Fenrir and Jörmungandr, don’t they both get k-killed in the end?!” Mitsuki couldn’t recall how they’d died or who killed them, but she did remember that at the very least, they weren’t among the survivors after Ragnarök.
Panicked, she turned on her smartphone and did an online search for “Surtr.” In the account of Ragnarök detailed in the poem Gylfaginning, his name was not among the list of those who survived.
Reading that caused her body’s uncontrollable shuddering to grow even worse.
“H-he’s going to die! Yuu-kun’s going to die at this rate! I — I have to help him! I have to do something...!”
With a shout, Mitsuki stood up, unable to sit still anymore in her panic. But once she was up, she realized she had no idea what to do, and stood there, frozen in place.
Waves of fear continued to rush through her, and unable to withstand it, she began to clutch and pull at her own hair.
“M-Mitsuki-chan, calm down!” Saya cried.
“B-b-but... but...! But he’s...!”
“Calm down! You said it yourself earlier, didn’t you?! There are huge differences between the myths and reality!”
“Ah... th-that’s right! That’s right, it’s not like it’s set in stone that Yuu-kun will die! Yeah, it’s not set in stone. It’s not set in stone. It’s not set in stone...” Mitsuki continued to repeat those words over and over, attempting to reassure herself.
But the anxiety that had wrapped itself around her heart showed no signs of disappearing.
“Hey, I’m really sorry.” Saya bowed her head to Mitsuki in apology. “I was supposed to be helping you, but it looks like I only gave you more to worry about.”
The sun had set while they were deep in conversation. Outside the house it was completely dark, save for the small area illuminated by the entrance lights and the bit of light coming out of the living room window.
“So, um, look,” Saya said. “Norse mythology was mainly an oral tradition, so almost all the written records we have about it today can only be traced back about as far as the 13th century. And what’s more, starting around the 11th century, there was a widespread conversion to Christianity in the region, and that affected everything a lot. There are all sorts of things that have changed over time, and what we have now can’t match up with whatever the original was, right? Nobody can know for sure what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. That’s why you shouldn’t give up hope.”
“You’re right,” Mitsuki said gratefully. “Thank you very much.”
“When the myths talk about Ragnarök, they say that it’s a time where all seals, shackles, and bindings will disappear, and those who have been restrained or imprisoned will be set free. One could interpret that to mean that he escapes, and comes back home.”
“...Right.” Mitsuki nodded deeply, taking those words to heart.
She knew that those words were in large part aimed at consoling her, but she also understood that none of it was a lie, either. Just as Saya was saying, there was still hope. Mitsuki tried to hold onto that and buoy her spirits.
It was true that her worries had grown, and that now the shivers that troubled her were from more than just the cold of December, but she was still glad for what she’d heard today, from the bottom of her heart.
Knowing what might occur in the future was better, for it would become easier to plan accordingly.
It was quite likely that in the near future, in Yuuto’s future, a dangerous crisis awaited him unlike anything he’d faced so far. However, knowing about that now would give Yuuto time to come up with some sort of countermeasure, and being mentally prepared for the crisis should improve his ability to react and adapt to it.
“I’ll look into some things on my end, too,” Saya said. “After all, we still don’t know his exact location or time period.”
“I appreciate it.”
“Mm-hm. Well, then, be careful on your way home, okay?”
“I will. Thank you very much for taking the time to talk with me until so late at night.” Mitsuki bowed deeply, and turned to leave the Takao residence.
“Ah, wait, Mitsuki!” Ruri cried. “I’ll go with you part of the way. I wanna talk with you a bit.”
Ruri hurriedly followed after Mitsuki.
Side by side, the two of them walked along the dark nighttime road.
Out here in the countryside, the evenings were full of noise from insects during the spring and fall, and from frogs in the summer. But in winter, it was much more silent. The only interruption to the quiet was the occasional, faint cry of a nighttime bird from the nearby mountain forests.
“I can see why you brag so much about her, Ruri-chan,” Mitsuki said, breaking the silence. “Saya-san is incredible. Talking to her was really helpful.”
“Er, yeah, isn’t she though?” Ruri smiled, but in a way that seemed somewhat awkward and stiff.
She had supposedly been fast asleep the whole time and missed Mitsuki and Saya’s conversation, but apparently she’d been able to gather from the atmosphere between them that it wasn’t a happy one.
“Mm? Oh...” Mitsuki felt something cold touch her cheek, and as she looked up, she saw innumerable, fluffy white flakes fluttering down from the darkness above, a majestic sight as far as the eye could see. “It’s snowing...”
“Whoa, you’re right. At this rate, this might be the third year in a row we get a white Christmas.” Ruri giggled and held out her hand to catch some of the flakes.
In the past, the area had gotten a lot of snow in the winter, but perhaps because of the changing global climate, snowfall had grown markedly less frequent in recent years.
Ruri added, “Oh, and speaking of Christmas, I just got a text from Tama-chan.”
“Oh?”
“She confessed to Ikeda-kun and asked him out, and he said yes.”
“Huuuhhh?!” Mitsuki couldn’t help but be surprised.
Tama-chan was her friend, so of course the success of her romance was something Mitsuki wanted to sincerely celebrate.
However, she had been told only yesterday that Ikeda-kun had feelings for her. Wasn’t this too quick and easy for such a change of heart?
She didn’t have any feelings for Ikeda-kun, of course. In fact, with this, her impression of him took a nosedive. But were feelings of affection towards somebody really something that could change so easily? Mitsuki was left with that lingering doubt hanging like a cloud in the back of her mind.
“Subtly make sure he hears that Mitsuki’s already got someone she likes, then right when he’s heartbroken and vulnerable you slide in and make your move. You’re a real woman, Tama-chan.” By contrast, Ruri seemed preoccupied with feelings of admiration. “Yeah! You know, love is all about timing!”
Ruri clenched her fist to emphasize her point. More than likely, it was a line she’d gotten from a magazine, or heard from one of her friends. After all, she’d never had a boyfriend.
Still, it rang true to Mitsuki.
“Yeah... you’re right.” With a hand on her heart, Mitsuki nodded slowly, as if turning over the words carefully in her mind. “I think so, too.”
Mitsuki had already become aware of her feelings around the time she’d entered middle school. And Yuuto was her childhood friend, someone she’d been together with for as long as she could remember; she also had an idea of his feelings for her.
She’d assumed that there would be no surprising or dramatic events like in a TV show or manga. Instead, their warm affections would develop slowly and naturally, and they would end up together. Gradually, things would progress, until before she knew it, she would end up as Yuuto’s bride.
That was the dull, uneventful but peaceful future Mitsuki had hoped for, and on that one fateful night, it had shattered, and vanished into thin air.
The two of them were now separated by an impossible distance, able only to hear each other’s voices, and their relationship was frozen, stuck in a state of more than friends and less than lovers.
“Timing...” she murmured. “It’s true. I shouldn’t let an opportunity pass me by.”
“Merry Christmas, Yuu-kun,” Mitsuki said into the phone.
“It’s Christmas Eve, though.” Yuuto’s voice on the other end of the receiver was quite sleepy.
It was currently midnight, and the date had just changed to the 24th. It went without saying that Yuuto had been asleep until a moment ago.
Mitsuki felt a little bad for waking him up, but she also felt that tonight of all nights she deserved to be forgiven for that. After all...
“Yuu-kun, you’re too picky about details.”
“No, I’m not,” he said. “This is important.”
“Ohhh, it is, huh? Okay.”
Apparently he understood, too. Even as she tried to keep her voice sounding unconcerned, she could tell that the corners of her lips were turning upward.
She didn’t know how it was in Western countries, but in Japan, Christmas Day was a day usually spent with one’s family, while Christmas Eve was considered a holiday specifically for spending time with a lover.
That was why she had been the one to call him tonight.
Yuuto only had a very limited amount of battery time to use his phone, so normally Mitsuki always waited for him to call her, so that she didn’t get in the way of what he needed to do.
But this time, even if it meant causing him a bit of trouble, Mitsuki wanted to make sure she was the first person Yuuto spoke with on Christmas Eve. She didn’t want to give up that spot to anyone else, no matter what.
“So, what is it?” Yuuto asked. “You’re not gonna tell me you called and woke me up in the middle of the night just so you could say that, are you?”
“Weeeell, as a matter of fact...”
“Hey!” He shouted in a voice that sounded a bit angry, but the tone underneath wasn’t angry at all.
Mitsuki could read these delicate nuances like the back of her hand.
“That reminds me, tonight — ah, guess it’s last night, now — last night, I called you but it didn’t go through.”
“Ah, I went to my friend’s house for a while, so I had my phone off.”
“...That friend’s a girl, right?”
“Uh huh, Ruri-chan. I hung out with her and her older cousin, and we ended up getting really into our conversation till late at night.”
“...And this cousin is a girl too, right?”
“Her cousin’s so cool, Yuu-kun! And really smart, too.”
“That doesn’t answer my question, Mitsuki.”
Beeep-beep! Beeep-beep! Through the receiver, Mitsuki could faintly hear the sound coming from Yuuto’s phone — a heartlessly cold mechanical warning tone.
“Tch, out of battery already,” Yuuto growled. “Dammit. It’s ’cause I looked up too much stuff last night. Hey, Mitsuki, hurry up and just tell me whether this cousin person’s a guy or a girl!” There was something about the franticness in his voice that was hopelessly comforting.
Mitsuki suddenly felt an incredible tightness in her chest. Perhaps it was also in part because of what she’d talked about with Saya earlier.
She wanted to see him so badly.
She wanted to embrace him.
She wanted to be embraced by him.
She wanted to kiss him.
She wanted him to kiss her.
The feelings welled up within her, overflowing.
But... they still couldn’t overcome the hesitation that held her back from telling him. No matter what, she didn’t want herself and her feelings to become a burden on him.
And so, Mitsuki gently kissed the LCD screen of her phone, and whispered into the microphone, “You know, Yuu-kun: ‘The moon sure is beautiful.’”
“Mm? Yeah, it’s really pretty over here, too. The winter sky makes the air really clear. ...Hey, more importantly—!”
It seemed Yuuto didn’t know.
Of course, he’d never been very interested in reading or literature even before entering middle school, so it was no wonder he didn’t know. And for these past two and a half years, he’d spent every moment of his limited time to study on learning only about things that would be practically useful to him in Yggdrasil, so he wouldn’t have had any chance to learn about it.
Mitsuki knew that. She knew that, but even so...
“Stuuupid. Stupid-stupid-stuuupid.”
“Wh-what the hell, Mitsuki?! What’s your deal?!”
“My deal is that you’re stupid, so that’s why I’m calling you stupid, stuuupid.”
“You...! We’ve only got a couple seconds left! How many are you gonna waste calling me stu—” His voice was suddenly cut off.
Beep, beep, beep...
There was nothing left but the sound indicating an inability to connect.
His phone must have finally run out of battery. She’d seen that coming, of course.
“I’m always, always worrying about you,” she whispered. “All the time. So I’ve got every right to say it. I can’t deal with these feelings if I don’t... You stupid idiot!”
Her voice quiet, and choking back tears, she muttered those last words at the silent phone, then picked up the sacred mirror from the shrine, the source of the connection between her and Yuuto.
One after another, her teardrops fell onto the mirror’s surface. As they did, the sacred mirror began to give off a very faint, phosphorescent glow, like the light of a firefly.
Still, the mirror was clouded over with rust, and so it could not show Mitsuki her reflection.
That was why she didn’t notice it.
As if in response to the soft glow of the mirror, small but distinct golden symbols shaped vaguely like birds were glowing in both of her eyes.
No Comments Yet
Post a new comment
Register or Login