"You're not him."
Kato Megumi's voice, usually gentle and full of quiet grace, now held a chill.
"You're not my Azuma."
As soon as the words left her lips, she stepped back—
Out of the sun-drenched classroom and into the dim corridor beyond.
The shift in lighting felt symbolic. The brilliant sunlight still poured through the windows behind her, warming the wooden floor in golden hues, but it no longer reached Megumi. Shadows clung to her form, casting her expression in ambiguity. She stood half in light, half in shadow—like she herself was caught between two truths.
Inside the classroom, Miyamizu Mitsuha felt a cold sweat gather at the base of her neck.
This should've been a place of warmth and light, but her body stiffened with a creeping chill.
From outside, the sharp crack of a baseball bat striking a ball echoed in the air, followed by scattered cheers from the nearby club field. But here, in this small room between worlds, everything felt muted. Distant. Unreal.
She was alone. Or rather, she wasn't alone—but she had never felt more exposed.
"W-What are you talking about?" Mitsuha stammered, her voice thin and uncertain.
"I… I am Yukima Azuma."
Megumi didn't move from the shadowed corridor. Her voice was steady, but sharp, laced with a tremble that came from somewhere deeper than anger.
"Where is he? Where is Yukima Azuma really?"
"I—I don't know what you mean…"
"Don't lie to me!" Megumi's voice cracked like glass. "Answer me! Where is he?!"
In that moment, Mitsuha's eyes adjusted to the light and shadows enough to finally see her clearly.
Kato Megumi, the girl she had seen only in photos and fragments from Yukima's memories, stood stiff and pale. Her fingers were clenched so tightly around the strap of her backpack that they'd turned white. No longer the gentle, doll-like beauty Mitsuha imagined—no, this girl radiated pressure, an almost suffocating sense of emotional force.
There was pain in her eyes. Anguish. Rage. Confusion.
And above all else—fear.
It was the same expression Mitsuha had seen only once before.
A long time ago, when her childhood friend Suzume had lost her phone—the last thing she had of her mother who died in an earthquake. The day Suzume stood holding the shattered remains of her phone, eyes blank and unfocused, like the world had just collapsed again… That gaze had seared itself into Mitsuha's memory.
And now, here it was again.
Her throat tightened. Her heart clenched. The weight of guilt, déjà vu, and helplessness washed over her like a wave.
"I—I'm so sorry," Mitsuha said hoarsely, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know how to explain this, but… I promise you, Yukima-san is fine."
She forced herself to meet Megumi's eyes.
"We just… swapped for a while. He'll be back. Tomorrow."
Silence.
Then, slowly, Megumi's shoulders slackened.
Her grip on the backpack eased just slightly. Her brows softened—but only a little.
And then something extraordinary happened.
The illusion of Yukima Azuma seemed to crack and fall away before her eyes. In a flicker of disbelief, Megumi saw the face of the girl behind the mask.
A stranger.
A delicate but strong-willed young girl with a trace of anxiety written across her face. She looked to be Megumi's age, or perhaps even younger. And she was scared—but honest.
Megumi exhaled slowly, forcing herself to breathe deeply.
"So, then…" she asked carefully, "who are you?"
"I'm… Miyamizu Mitsuha. From Itomori. In Gifu Prefecture."
She had decided—she couldn't lie anymore. This girl deserved the truth.
Gifu.
That one word made something stir in Megumi's memory.
"Tell me more," she said, voice lower now. Calm. Controlled. But still searching.
"Umm… honestly, I don't know everything either. Since the day before yesterday, I've just been waking up in this body—Azuma's body. And at night, I go back to mine. It's been happening randomly, and we didn't know why. But we… tried to make it work."
Mitsuha recounted everything—the body swaps, the notes, the little routines they'd built to navigate this impossible reality. Her voice trembled as she spoke, but her words were sincere.
Megumi listened in silence.
She slowly pulled out her phone. With a few taps, she searched "Itomori, Gifu Prefecture."
The result loaded.
She recognized the name instantly.
Back during her Hokkaido trip, when the Charlotte comet split the sky, she had felt something—some intangible grief—claw at the edges of her awareness. At the time, she hadn't known why Azuma looked away from the spectacle. Or why his fingers tightened ever so slightly around hers.
But when she returned to Tokyo, she had done some quiet research.
The Charlotte comet's fragments had struck the mountains near Gifu. A small town had been obliterated.
Over five hundred lives lost.
And the name of that town…
Itomori.
She stared at the girl in front of her now—this girl who had traded lives with Yukima Azuma across time itself.
He had gone back.
To a place that didn't exist anymore.
And this girl… she didn't know.
Not yet.
Megumi's heart ached with that realization, but she kept it hidden. Her face softened. Her voice returned to its usual gentle cadence.
"I see," she said at last. "I'm sorry. I was… too harsh earlier."
Mitsuha immediately waved her hands, flustered. "No, it's okay! I completely understand. If I were you, I'd probably have freaked out way sooner!"
Megumi blinked, and for the first time that day, she smiled.
This girl… was kind.
Azuma hadn't chosen poorly.
"In that case," Megumi said lightly, "you're a guest in Tokyo right now."
She straightened and clapped her hands.
"Let me show you around. Starting with Toyogasaki."
Mitsuha stared at her, stunned.
The thoughtfulness in her tone, the welcoming kindness… it was so familiar.
She hadn't said a word about Azuma's notebook, and yet her words mirrored his.
In that instant, Mitsuha understood.
These two—Azuma and Megumi—weren't just close.
They were two sides of the same soul.
By the time the sun dipped behind the school buildings, Mitsuha had been thoroughly shown around Toyogasaki Academy. From the lotus-filled pond with its elegant swans to the gentle hill dotted with fruit trees, it was like a dream. She had never seen a school so beautiful—so full of life.
And yet, she felt a growing warmth toward the girl guiding her through it all.
Megumi wasn't just showing her the school.
She was helping her feel at home.
As twilight descended, Mitsuha hesitated.
"I should probably go back soon…"
"No need," Megumi said. "Let's go together."
"Eh?"
"I stay at Azuma-san's place sometimes. I have a room there."
Mitsuha's eyes went wide.
"Y-You live together?!"
Megumi simply smiled. "It's not like that. But even if it were—I wouldn't care what others think."
Mitsuha's mind spun.
Then she remembered—
The black-haired girl she had seen at Yukima's house.
"Um… is there anyone else staying there?"
Megumi tilted her head. "You mean Kasumigaoka-senpai? Yeah, she rents a room too. You must've met her already."
"I… I did," Mitsuha said, flustered. "But I barely spoke to her before I ran off…"
She couldn't help it. Her mind was now racing.
Two incredibly beautiful girls… living with him?!
Just what kind of life did Yukima Azuma lead in Tokyo?!
And how had she become part of this tangled, impossible story?