—These are textbook facts, and of course, I knew most of them already. Three years ago, I was in middle school. I remember actually watching Comet Tiamat from a hill in my neighborhood.

…But that’s weird.

It doesn’t make sense.

I lived in Itomori as Mitsuha, several times, right up until last month.

That means that what I saw, the place where she lived, wasn’t Itomori.

The comet and my swapping with Mitsuha had nothing to do with each other.

It’d be normal to think that. It’s what I want to think.

However, paging through books in this city library near Itomori, I’m hopelessly confused. For a while now, in the deepest corner of my mind, someone’s been whispering, This is where you were.

Vanished Itomori—Complete Records

Itomori—The Village That Sank in a Night

The Tragedy of Comet Tiamat

I flip through tome after tome with titles like these. The photos of bygone days in Itomori unmistakably show places I’ve been. This is the grade school Yotsuha goes to. Miyamizu Shrine is where their grandma is the chief priestess. This pointlessly big parking lot, the two snack bars right next to each other, the convenience store that looks like a barn, the little railroad crossing on the mountain road, and of course Itomori High School… At this point, I recognize all of them clearly. Seeing those ruined streets with my own eyes has sharpened my memories.

It’s hard to breathe. My heart is struggling, beating irregularly, and refuses to calm down.

It feels as though the vivid photos are silently absorbing the air and any sense of reality.

Itomori High—Final Sports Festival

The photo above the caption shows high schoolers in the middle of a three-legged race. The pair on the end seems familiar. One has straight-cut bangs and braids. The other girl’s hair is bound up with an orange cord.

The air gets even thinner.

I feel as though hot blood is oozing down the back of my neck, but when I wipe it away with my hand, it’s transparent sweat.

“—Taki.”

I look up. Tsukasa and Okudera-senpai are standing there. They hand me a single book. Foil letters in a weighty font are stamped on its thick cover:

Itomori Comet Disaster List and Catalog of Victims

I turn the pages. The victims’ names and addresses are given by district. I run my finger down them. I keep turning pages. Finally, my finger stops on names I recognize.

Teshigawara, Katsuhiko (17)

Natori, Sayaka (17)

“Teshigawara and Saya…”

As I murmur, I hear Tsukasa and Okudera-senpai suck in their breath.

Then I find the names that prove it all.

Miyamizu, Hitoha (82)

Miyamizu, Mitsuha (17)

Miyamizu, Yotsuha (9)

The other two peer over my shoulder at the list.

“That’s her……? It has to be some kind of mistake! I mean, she’s—” Okudera-senpai sounds as if she might burst into tears. “She’s been dead for three years.”

Trying to deny her words, I shout, “Just two or three weeks ago, she—!” It’s hard to breathe. I inhale desperately and continue. This time, it comes out as a whisper. “She told me we’d be able to see the comet……”