When I saw the blue moon, the figure of Saki standing by the spring came to mind. Even though Saki was unlikely to come to that spring again, my heart still worried about her.
Was she standing alone by the spring? Was she crying alone? Even though someone had come to eat Saki’s tomatoes, I still worried because I remembered the faint blue painting Saki drew at Hinata Dormitory.
In the painting, a small girl standing in front of the spring was looking up at the blue moon. That little girl must have been Saki in elementary school. I didn’t know if it was the Saki from before she threw herself into the spring or the Saki who had been waiting for him to rescue her, but I had never been able to forget that painting.
It had always been a strange memory, as if from a past life, and it still captivated my heart.
The blue moonlight easily brought back memories of the time we spent together and the feelings I harbored then. Saki using an umbrella to scoop up stars at the spring, Saki looking up at the moon with a trembling voice, Saki showing interest in the poster of the Yokai Train, and Saki saying that the cherry blossoms that hadn’t bloom were beautiful.
Every Saki was charming and cute. I wanted to keep listening to her stories, and I wanted to stay by her side forever. My chest hurt. I thought I was stupid for wishing for this love to disappear along with the blue moon.
Even though I wouldn’t be able to fall in love with anyone else again, Saki was more special to me than anyone; my destined one, but…
Did this mean that the program embedded in my brain, heart, and body to find my destined person was wrong? Did it mean that I would find someone in the future I liked more?
I shook my head. No one could make me fall in love more than Saki; not now, not in the future, not ever.
I walked through the quiet residential area, and after a while, I arrived at my house. I went upstairs to my room, closed the door with a click, and walked straight to the small box on my desk. I gently reached out and opened the lid.
The small star inside the box shone brightly, like always. Suddenly, I felt like I could see her crying face in the midst of the shining stars illuminated by the blue moonlight.
Come to think of it, Saki had cried when she saw the star ornament I gave her. Like a child who forgot how to speak, she kept repeating, “Why?” and crying in front of the happy Jizo statue at Suzumushi Temple.
Why had she cried? And why did she say, “Even if it was just a coincidence, it made me happy?”
I felt like I’d forgotten something important that I had to remember in order to live my life. It was a strange feeling, similar to guilt.
Every time I recalled my memories with her, I felt this sense of discomfort. Something was not right. I needed to remember…
Why had the corridor in Arashiyama Station displayed kimonos in the daytime but not at night? Why had it been raining in the forest where Saki was during the day but not in the town where I was? Why wasn’t anyone using a smartphone?
I pondered it all but couldn’t unravel the mystery. Then, my gaze fell on my suitcase in the corner of the room. I approached it and unzipped it, discovering a forgotten sticker-type photo inside. It was a picture I had taken with Saki in Kyoto, intending to give it to her as a keepsake. However, I had accidentally bumped into someone and forgotten about it.
Saki always wore a kind and cheerful smile in front of everyone, but in that purikura… Why?
Lost in thought, I called my grandma. I had a feeling only she could provide clarity on this unsettling feeling.
“Hello?” After the fourth ring, my grandma finally answered.
“Keiichi? I’ve been waiting for your call.”
“Waiting for me? Were you lonely?”
“That too, but did you call today because you wanted to know something important?”
“Yeah.”
Grandma had already sensed something. I mustered the courage to ask. My grip tightened on the purikura. “Grandma, is the legend of the blue moon you told me true?”
Back then, I had dismissed her words as onset dementia, not taking them seriously. But if what she had said about the legend was true, I could finally grasp something.
“Yes, it is.”
After a moment of silence, Grandma said softly, “Where the blue light of the blue moon guides, there lies an entrance to the past.”
Her words provided an answer to my half-hearted musings, leaving me speechless.
“Keiichi, did you visit there this summer?”
“How did you know?”
“Because six years ago, during the four days of the blue moon, you would come home to me at night.”
“What?” What did she mean?
“By harnessing the power of the blue moon, one can travel back to the past, only when the blue moonlight shines. Returning to the present naturally in the morning is customary. When you came visit me six years ago in July, you were an eleven-year-old elementary school student. But on the night of the blue moon in August, you appeared as a seventeen-year-old high school student, which surprised me greatly.”
“…”
“High school student you sat on the veranda, gazing at the full blue moon, and asked me, ‘Do you know about the blue moon?’ That’s how I found out.”
“…”
“Future Keiichi borrowed the power of the blue moon and traveled six years in the past.”
Grandma’s unbelievable words sent a tremor through my hand, making me clutch the purikura. But it had to be the reality I needed to accept. The purikura, unseen for a month, had faded in color over the course of six years. The date and time indicated on it were from August 3, six years ago.
Amidst my confusion, I struggled to comprehend the reality. “You can only travel to the past when the blue moon shines.” If that story was true, everything made sense — the absence of smartphones in Kyoto, Saki referring to Kyoto Sanga as Purple Sanga, and the vanishing Kimono Forest at night. My heart raced and breathing became difficult, but I couldn’t stop my thoughts. I felt an overwhelming need to continue.
I recollected Grandma’s words. “Where the light of the blue moon leads, there lies an entrance to the past” If the blue light of the full moon guided me somewhere, it must have led me to the forest. Therefore, the entrance to the past lay within that forest. But why did I have to venture into the past?
“Grandma, why did I have to go to the past?”
The question haunting my mind slipped out. Inadvertently, I had stumbled into the past. Was it a prank by God? Or…?
“Are the people who can travel back to the past predetermined?” I asked gently, seeking clarification from my grandma.
“People who can travel back to the past are either those who strongly desire to go to that world or those who need to go to that world,” she explained.
My thoughts struggled to keep pace. Yet, it had to be true. I desperately tried to grasp the meaning behind my grandma’s words. The flow of time in this world was not strictly one-way.
I, who had not yearned strongly to revisit the past, must have unwittingly journeyed there for the latter reason.
“Why did I have to go six years in the past?” I questioned, my confusion mounting. No matter how much I contemplated it, the answer eluded me. I had no clue.
“Was it difficult? I’m sorry,” Grandma empathized with my silence.
“No, it’s not that,” I replied, trying to compose myself.
“Why you went to the past is something I don’t understand. Only you knows the answer,” she gently explained.
Only I know?
“There’s one more thing I can tell you now,” she continued, taking a deep breath. I braced myself for what was to come. “There is only one more opportunity to return to the past.”
“Really?”
“Yes, that’s correct. Didn’t I mention that the blue moon occurs twice a month? Hence, there are two chances to travel back in time. Those who ventured into the past during the first blue moon cannot revisit the past unless it coincides with the blue moon of that particular month. So, if you desires to return to the past again, today is the sole opportunity.”
The power of the blue moon resides within the four days of the spring tide when the moon is full. Today marked the fourth day of the second full moon. Therefore, today was the only chance to travel back to the past.