Mitsuha Miyamizu stood in her red-and-white shrine maiden outfit, elegant and composed.
A delicate gold crown sat atop her head, and her long black hair was tied neatly back with a strip of white ceremonial paper.
Every movement she made was graceful and precise, carrying a rhythm that felt instinctual—something passed down through generations.
In her hand was a Kagura Suzu.
Her feet moved to the rhythm of an ancient dance.
She chanted softly under her breath—words sacred and timeless.
With every spin, every jingle of the bell, it felt like she was connecting heaven and earth, offering peace to the gods.
The firelight flickered across her young but focused face.
Her clear brown eyes were calm, almost serene.
At the head of the gathering sat her grandmother, Hitoha Miyamizu, watching with a complex gaze—part proud, part quietly anxious.
Next to her, Mitsuha's little sister Yotsuha knelt wide-eyed, her expression full of awe as she stared up at her big sister.
The dance neared its end.
Mitsuha's movements slowed, becoming more solemn.
She stepped toward the shrine altar.
There, a ceremonial setup awaited:
A spotless ceramic bowl.
A bowl of freshly steamed rice.
This was the final step of the ritual—the most sacred part: making kuchikamizake, a traditional offering to the gods.
It wasn't just symbolic. It carried the spiritual legacy and prayers of over 800 years of Miyamizu shrine maidens.
Mitsuha took a deep breath, her face serious and focused.
She picked up a small clump of warm rice and placed it into her mouth, ready to chew.
Tradition called for her to chew the rice into a paste, then spit it into the bowl—mixing it with saliva and prayer, to be sealed and left to ferment.
Weird? Definitely. But it had always been done this way.
Just as her teeth were about to close and she fully surrendered herself to the sacred moment—
[Ding! You've joined the Trade Chat Group!]
The alert rang out like a thunderclap inside her mind.
At the same time, a faintly glowing blue screen appeared in midair, right in front of her—completely out of nowhere.
On it, in bold letters: [Trade Chat Group]
"Wha—?!"
Mitsuha froze.
The rice in her mouth nearly fell out.
She stared at the floating screen in complete disbelief.
What... what is this?!
A divine vision? Or… some kind of evil interference?
Her strange reaction didn't go unnoticed.
The kneeling villagers glanced at each other, confused.
Grandmother Hitoha's gaze suddenly sharpened.
"Mitsuha."
Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried weight. It cut through the crackling fire and the panic rising in Mitsuha's chest.
It was like a splash of cold water. Mitsuha snapped back to reality.
She forced herself to ignore the glowing screen and shoved her racing heart back into place.
Breathe. Focus. The rice.
She started chewing again—slowly, deliberately.
Her movements looked natural, as if the pause had just been part of the performance.
She didn't dare glance at the screen again. Or meet her grandmother's eyes.
She just kept her head down, quietly finishing the ritual.
She gently spat the rice paste into the bowl.
Her body moved fluidly again.
But inside, she was shaking. Her fingertips trembled. Cold sweat soaked her back.
At last, the ritual was done.
Mitsuha placed the sealed bowl of kuchikamizake on the altar with reverence.
The villagers broke into cheers and applause.
"Well done, Mitsuha!"
"The Miyamizu Shrine is in good hands!"
"You did great!"
Mitsuha bowed slowly, keeping a calm smile on her face.
But her thoughts were still hijacked by that floating blue screen.
Once the ceremony ended and the crowd began to disperse, she walked toward the shrine's inner room, her legs feeling like jelly under her grandmother's approving gaze.
She had barely opened the door when a small blur launched itself at her and wrapped around her waist.
"You were amazing, Sis! That dance was so cool—it was like watching a real goddess!"
Yotsuha looked up at her, eyes sparkling with admiration.
That sudden burst of affection eased some of the unease in Mitsuha's chest.
She smiled weakly, ruffling her sister's hair.
"Thanks, Yotsuha. But I still need more practice."
Her eyes flicked forward instinctively.
The blue screen was still there. Still floating in front of her.
"…Yotsuha."
She hesitated, then crouched down and pointed at the space ahead.
"Can you see anything weird in front of me? Like… a glowing blue box or something?"
Yotsuha tilted her head and leaned in.
"Hm…"
She looked carefully, even waved her hand through the air.
Then shook her head, puzzled.
"A weird box? Nope. There's nothing there. Just air."
Her face scrunched up in confusion.
"…"
Mitsuha didn't respond.
A chill crept up her back.
Yotsuha couldn't see it.
Just like during the ritual—it was only her.
This wasn't her imagination.
Then what was it?
And why her?
"Sis? You okay? You're looking kinda pale."
Yotsuha tugged her sleeve, worried.
"Ah—no, it's nothing!"
Mitsuha blinked, forcing a smile.
"Probably just tired from dancing."
"You go ahead and take your bath. I'll clean up and join you in a bit."
"Okay!"
Yotsuha nodded and skipped away.
Now alone, Mitsuha leaned back against the wall and slid slowly down to the floor.
The silence of the shrine felt heavier than usual—almost eerie.
Her eyes went back to the screen.
Still there.
Still glowing.
[Trade Chat Group]
The words shimmered, almost like they had a will of their own.
"Is this... a sign from the gods?"
She muttered, voice barely audible in the stillness.
"Or… some kind of summons?"
As someone raised in worship, she instinctively leaned toward the divine explanation.
But whispers of strange ideas—multiple universes, infinite worlds—started creeping into her mind.
And with them came a wave of uncertainty… and fear.
~~~
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