Chapter One

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The light streamed through the window onto his face. It was uncomfortable, and Taki Tachibana grimaced, his eyes still closed.

The sensation of forming the expression set his mind rising. Waking always felt like floating up from watery depths toward the surface. Through the window, he could hear the tree branches in the garden swaying. It sounded like waves.

As he lay there, he became aware of his own weight. He felt gravity pressing against his back. If this kept up and he opened his eyes, a new day would begin whether he wanted it to or not.

I don’t want to open my eyes…

For a little while, he floated gently in a liminal state, neither asleep nor awake. This halfway point between on and off was incredibly comfortable.Ahh, I want this to last forever…Immediately following that thought, an ominous lump rose in—or rather,on—his chest.

An unpleasant jolt lanced through his drowsy mind. A verbal representation of it would have been:

Which is it today?!

He flinched on reflex. In that instant, the overpowering sense that something was wrong ran through his entire body.

A body disconcertingly lacking in flesh.

In short, his muscles failed to solidly upholster his surface. His physique was endlessly soft and unreliable, and the instability shocked him.

“Waugh!”

He couldn’t take how weird it felt. Flinging the futon cover back violently, Taki sat up.

He quickly looked around. He was in a Japanese-style room, six tatami mats in area.

By now, he’d gotten pretty used to seeing this room.

A student desk and chair sat on the tatami-covered floor. The first time he’d seen that, he’d thought,It’s like Nobita’s room. To begin with, he’d been startled to find that someone had actually put a desk on top of tatami. That said, the room was clearly well populated with stuff, unlike Nobita’s austere living space. A long rectangular mirror stood against the wall. A girl’s school uniform hung from an exposed, horizontal beam, and the pleats of the skirt had been meticulously ironed. He knew that if he opened the closet, it would be crammed full of clothes, and that putting the futon away would take serious effort.

It was a girl’s room.

The leaves waved outside the window, and the light that streamed through them oscillated, too. It made the room feel green to Taki. Not that the light was emerald-colored, but the atmosphere.

Taki tried to align the reality of his surroundings with the surreal sensation of this body by studying the room for a while.

“Again…?”

The instant he processed the situation, sweat broke out on his forehead, and his long bangs clung to his skin. The sensation bothered him, and when he shook his head, the soft touch of long hair stroking the back of his neck gave him a chill.

Lifting the palm he’d had over his eyes, he grabbed his left arm.

The flesh felt far too soft, and the texture made his heart skip uneasily. It was weird that something this soft managed to function as a proper arm. The feel of the skin, the musculature—no, the very nature of the body was completely different from the one he knew. It wasn’t a guy’s body.

It was a girl’s.

Today, once again, when he opened his eyes, he’d turned into a girl.

He sucked in a deep breath, then slowly let it out in a long sigh.

Even that was enough to remind him that her lung capacity was different from his.

What a pain.

He’d have to spend the whole day as a regular high schooler in a town he didn’t know again. Having to pass himself off as an unfamiliar girl among unfamiliar people and try his best not to destroy unfamiliar relationships: Now,thatwas stress.

Besides…

This body is so…

…incredibly hard to handle.

For one thing, the length of its stride was far too different, which was exasperating.

The body’s center of gravity wasn’t like his own, so he tended to stagger. Even a slight stumble would be enough to twist such delicate ankles, or so it felt.

And not just the ankles. This whole body was slender.

It made him worry that if he randomly planted those hands somewhere, he might break an arm.

He didn’t really know how far he could push it before it broke, and that was terrifying.

While he thought, Taki ran both hands all over the slim body, patting and feeling. Unless he did this—made a tactile confirmation that, right now, he was in a body that wasn’t his own—he wouldn’t be able to hang on to his sense of reality.

After he’d spent a while inspecting his physical condition, he shifted both hands to his chest. Then, after a little hesitation, through the pajamas, he slowly pressed on the bulges with his palms.

His palms met a very mild resistance, and then the slightly elastic breasts collapsed and flattened.

He curved his fingers, lightly squeezing the flesh.

Hmm.

There was quite a bit.

The breasts certainly weren’t enormous.

They weren’t the kind that bounced and swayed majestically. Nothing like that.

If he lifted them and then let go, they didn’t drop with a sensation of weight or solidity.

Even so, there was enough to warrant the thoughtHey, they’re boobsand a deep nod of satisfaction.

Mm-hmm.

Quite enough.

With this much mass, touching them felt pretty nice.

His face serious, Taki massaged the breasts.

For some reason he didn’t understand, it was weirdly relaxing.

His current situation was completely insane, but he’d reached a point of being able to rationalize it as a sort of joke. Like someone was telling him to just chill and take it easy.

As he kneaded the breasts, he chantedBoobies, boobiesin his head, rhythmically, and it got funnier and funnier.

Boobies, boobies.

Squeeze, release, squeeze, release.

Wow…

Boo-bies.Boo-bies.

Even he thought he was being incredibly dumb, and a smile found its way onto his face.

After he’d enjoyed himself for a while, he let go. Any more would be risky—meaning he could lose control. It felt as if beyond this point, there was a switch that shouldn’t be flipped. The red button that showed up in comedies, in a secret base or something, where a president who’s lost his mind abruptly tries to jab it with his finger and the people around him restrain him with brute force. He must not press that button. If he did, he’d trigger an outcome he couldn’t undo.

Besides, if Mitsuha found out, it would be extremely bad news.

He started feeling a little guilty. As he looked absently around the room, an alarm suddenly sounded, and he bolted upright.

The cell phone on top of the desk had rung. This model, with a full-screen face, had been released several years back.

When he picked it up, it displayed a message from Mitsuha. It was an app that delivered prescheduled texts.

Does she have this set to pop up every day just in case she’s switched with me?

It was the usual rundown of the rules:

MitsuhaTo Taki!

No baths!

Do not look at or touch my body!

Keep your legs together!

Don’t touch the boys!

Don’t touch the girls, either!

One new item had been added to the list:

Seriously, don’t mess around with my body. I mean it. Also, I’m sure you know this, but if you go into the girls’ locker room, I will find a way to make you pay.

Scary!

As a reflex, Taki yanked the phone away from his face.

This wasn’t a message. It was a threat.

He’d left his own body with her, after all, and there was no telling what could happen to it while it was in her possession.

He’d been put on notice. He couldn’t do anything careless.

Mitsuha owned this body.

If he started trying to explain, he’d never finish (and it wasn’t something he could explain anyway), but Taki Tachibana, a high school guy living in the sixth district of Chiyoda Ward, Tokyo, periodically switched personalities with Mitsuha Miyamizu, a high school girl from the town of Itomori in Z. County, Gifu Prefecture.

Basically, the two swapped minds from time to time.

For anyone thinking,What the heck? I don’t get it, just watch director Nobuhiko Obayashi’sExchange Studentsor read Hisashi Yamanaka’sI’m Her and She’s Me. You’ll totally get it.

The swaps happened randomly, about two or three times a week. Falling asleep triggered them.

In the mornings, Taki’s mind awoke in Mitsuha Miyamizu’s body, while Mitsuha’s mind took over Taki Tachibana’s body, and they’d stay that way until they fell asleep at the end of the day. Once they’d drifted off again in bed, the next thing they knew, they’d be back to normal.

An afternoon nap didn’t seem to be enough to trigger a switch or a return. They’d learned this firsthand by napping during class.

The first time they swapped, Taki just thought he was having some sort of lucid dream. He assumed he was dreaming that he’d turned into a girl he didn’t know in his sleep and was living somewhere new, but…

It was way too real for that.

The unfamiliar scenery was far too vivid. The sounds were way too clear. Objects had well-defined textures, and the supporting cast was too autonomous.

It was so bad that he’d actually diagrammed the various interpersonal relationships on a two-page spread in a notebook just to keep it all straight.

He had this dream—the one where he turned into a girl named Mitsuha Miyamizu and lived as her for a day—over and over again.

If that was all it was, the situation might have warranted nothing more than a simple: “You’ve had a bunch of pretty crazy dreams in a row now. Do you want to meet with a counselor, just to be on the safe side?” He wished that had been the case.

When he realized that these dreams were accompanied by a full day’s memory gap, though, he started thinking,Y’know, maybe I should worry about this.

When he had a Mitsuha Miyamizu dream, Thursday followed Tuesday.

He’d discover that he’d made mistakes at his part-time job that he never would have made.

A full days’ worth of content from his classes would be missing from his memories. More precisely, he wouldn’t even remember being there at all.

It felt like watching the next installment of a TV show after missing last week’s episode.

BAŞLIK: Rüya Değilmiş

Eğer sadece bu kadar olsaydı, "Belki de bu tür şeylere bakan bir hastane bulmalıyız?" gibi bir tavsiye yeterli olabilirdi. Keşke gerçekten de öyle olsaydı.

Ama katıldığını hatırlamadığı o derslerden, tanımadığı bir el yazısıyla alınmış notları vardı.

Aslında bu tam olarak doğru sayılmazdı. Teknik olarak Taki o yazıyı daha önce görmüştü. Rüyalarında.

Mitsuha Miyamizu’nun defterlerindeki yazıyla aynıydı.

O da muhtemelen bu el yazısını benimle hemen hemen aynı zamanda fark etmişti.

Asıl belirleyici nokta, "kayıp" günlerinin görünürdeki olaylarının kendi cep telefonundaki günlük uygulamasında yer alan kayıtlardı. Hem de ne coşkulu girdilerdi!

Hepsinde Mitsuha imzası vardı.

Bir sabah Taki kendi odasında uyandığında, sol kolunun iç kısmında kalıcı kalemle Mitsuha adının yazılı olduğunu gördü. Altına "geldi!" diye karalanmamış olması neredeyse tuhaftı.

İşler bu noktaya gelince, birbirlerini fark etmemeleri imkansızdı.

Başka bir deyişle, bu bir rüya değildi.

Mitsuha Miyamizu, fantastik bir diyardan gelme bir sanrı değildi.

Hem o hem de dünyası gerçek hayatta vardı. Farkında olmadan, Taki’nin bilinci Mitsuha’nın bedenine girmiş, o oradayken de Mitsuha Miyamizu’nun zihni Taki’nin içinde yaşamıştı.

Taki Tachibana’nın ilk tepkisi, temelde şuydu:

"Şaka yapıyor olmalısın!!"

Mitsuha Miyamizu’ya gelince, cep telefonunun not işlevi aracılığıyla Taki’ye gönderdiği ilk mesaj olayı özetliyordu:

Sapık!!

Taki hemen notun altına "Ben sapık değilim!" diye yazdı. Eğer kasten bir kızın hayatına sızmış olsaydı, ona başka bir şey denemezdi, ama bu durum tamamen kontrolü dışındaydı. Kim isterdi ki böyle bir dramayı!

Parmaklarını hızla hareket ettirerek harfleri girip itiraz etmişti ama…

"Bedenimle istediğin her şeyi yapıyorsun, bu yüzden apaçık bir sapıksın!!"

…bir sonraki yer değiştirdiklerinde onu bekleyen dobra dobra yanıt buydu.

Ne yani? "Onun bedeniyle istediğimi yapmak" mı?

Bunun ne kadar cüretkar bir ifade olduğunu anlamıyor mu?

İşte o sıralarda, elindeki sınırlı bilgilere rağmen, Mitsuha Miyamizu’nun kişiliğinin belirsiz hatları Taki için şekillenmeye başlamıştı:

Bu kız biraz çatlak.

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Futonu kaldırdı, pijamalarını çıkarıp tatamiye bıraktı. Taki, kızın göğüslerini sıkarken duyduğundan daha fazla suçluluk hissetti, kıyafetlerini çıkarırken. Kirişten asılı duran üniformayı giydi. Bu "etek"in kemersiz, sadece bir kanca ve tutturucu ile sabitleniyor olması onu dehşete düşürmekten asla vazgeçmiyordu. "Demek bel sahibi olmak böyle bir şey, ha?" İncecik, küçücük beyaz gömleğe ne kadar kolay girebildiğine ve düğmelerin düzgünce iliklendiğini hissetmesine de garip bir şekilde şaşırmıştı.

Tüm bu küçük detaylar onu şaşırtıyordu.

Saçlarını at kuyruğu yapıp bir lastikle bağladı. Gerçek Mitsuha saçlarına daha özenli bir şeyler yapıyor olabilirdi ama Taki’nin yapabildiği en iyi şey buydu.

Aksesuarları taktıktan sonra gaza gelmekten başka çaresi kalmamıştı.

Bugün tüm gün, bir şekilde, bir kız gibi davranmayı başaracağım.

Kendini motive etmezse, cesareti kırılırdı.

"Sen kimsin?" Durup dururken birinin ona bunu ciddi ciddi sorabileceği hissine kapılıyordu ve bu ihtimal onu korkutuyordu. Eğer biri gerçekten böyle bir şey söyleseydi, kalbi kesinlikle dururdu.

Çevresindeki insanların tepkilerini gözlemleyerek, Mitsuha Miyamizu’nun nasıl konuştuğuna dair belirsiz bir fikir edinmişti.

Anlamış olsa da, tüm gün boyunca bu konuşma tarzını sürdürmek zordu. Öğle yemeğinden önce hata yapmaya başlayacağı kesindi. Farkında olmadan Taki, erkek gibi konuşmaya geri döner, okuldaki herkesin iki kez bakmasına neden olurdu. Hatalarını her zaman gözden geçirirdi ama yine de onları düzeltemiyordu.

Biraz daha ince ayar gerekli olabilirdi.

"Ha, doğru."

Burnunun dibinde mükemmel bir ders kitabı olduğunu fark etti: Mitsuha’nın cep telefonunda bıraktığı not. Neredeyse Mitsuha Miyamizu’nun kendi sesiydi. Tek yapması gereken, bunu doğal bir şekilde söylemeyi öğrenmekti.

Denedi.

"…Cidden! Bedenimle oynama!"

Taki bile sesinin yapmacık çıktığını düşündü. Amatör bir tiyatro grubundan bir oyuncu gibi geliyordu sesi.

"—Ayrıca, bunu bildiğinden eminim ama…! Kızlar soyunma odasına girersen, bunun bedelini sana bir şekilde ödetirim!"

Tehditkar ses çıkarmak için elinden geleni yapmıştı ama bu ses pek de "güçlü" durmuyordu.

Mesajı iki üç kez okudu ama aptalca hissetmeye başlayınca bıraktı. Aniden yakınlarda bir varlık hissetti. Gözleri biraz dolaştı, sonra hafifçe aralık sürgülü kapıyı ve aralıktan ona bakan küçük bir gözü fark etti. Göz kırptı, sonra yuvarlandı.

"Oha!"

Oynadığı sesi değil, kendi gerçek sesini kullanmıştı. Kasvetli, geleneksel bir Japon odasında gördüğü şey, adeta Seishi Yokomizo’nun halk korku dünyasından fırlamış gibiydi.

Bu, küçük kız kardeşi Yotsuha’ydı. Mitsuha ile aralarında birkaç yaş vardı ve Yotsuha hala ilkokuldaydı. Aralık sürgülü kapının ötesinde, ilkokul öğrencisinin ağzı büküldü, tek kaşı kalktı ve bir karides gibi kamburlaşarak geri çekildi, aralığı nazikçe kapattı. Tek kelime etmemişti ama eğer ifadesi kelimelere dökülseydi, "Eyvah," olurdu.

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