“The tidal forces don’t seem to have surpassed the Roche limit, so it’s possible that an abnormality of some kind occurred within the comet itself—”

“As of yet, the National Astronomical Observatory has issued no statement…”

“A similar case occurred in 1994, when Comet Shoemaker-Levy fell into Jupiter. On that occasion, it split into at least twenty-one fragments…”

“Do you suppose it’s dangerous?”

“Comets are masses of ice, so we believe it will melt before it reaches Earth’s surface. Even if it does become a meteorite, in terms of probability, the likelihood that it will fall on an inhabited area is extremely low…”

“It’s difficult to predict the trajectories of the fragments in real time—”

“The fact that we’re witnessing such a magnificent astronomical phenomenon, combined with the fact that it happens to be nighttime in Japan, may be the sort of good fortune that comes only once in a thousand years for those of us who are alive in this era—”

“I’m gonna go look!” I told my dad.

Without even thinking about it, I jumped up from my chair and rushed down the building’s stairs.

From a hill in the neighborhood, I watched the night sky.

It held innumerable sparkling lights, as if another Tokyo had been layered over the sky. It was like a scene from a dream, a view that was simply, utterly beautiful.

The comet, split in two, brings my own solitude into stark relief as I race through the blacked-out town like a lost child.

Who, who? Who is he?

Without taking my eyes off the comet, running as if I’m perpetually falling, I desperately try to think.

Someone important. Someone I can’t forget. Someone I didn’t want to forget.

It’s not much farther to Town Hall. Not much longer until that comet becomes a meteorite.

Who? Who? Who are you?

I summon the very last of my strength and pick up speed.

—What’s your name?

“Aah!” I cry out automatically.

My toe caught in a pit in the asphalt, and in the moment I realize I’m falling, the ground is already imminent. There’s a shock, a blow to the face. My body tumbles limply. Stabbing pain spreads through me. My field of vision spins, and my consciousness goes black.

………………………

………………

……But.

Your voice reaches me.

“So we don’t forget each other after we wake up.”

That’s what you said then, and…

“Let’s write down our names.”

You wrote on my hand.

On the ground, I open my eyes.

My pain-blurred vision finds my clenched right hand. I open the fingers, or try to. They’re stiff and wooden. Even so, little by little, I uncurl them.

There are letters there. I strain my eyes.

I love you

For a moment, I stop breathing. I try to stand. My muscles feel weak, and it takes a long time. Even so, I manage to get myself back on my feet, standing on the asphalt. Then I look at my palm one more time. All that’s written there, in nostalgic handwriting I’ve seen somewhere before, are the words I love you.