I closed my eyes and delved into deep thought. Why did I become entangled in that world six years ago and fallen in love with Saki? What had drawn me to her, a love as vast and profound as my grandmother’s? I had to remember. What had she said?
When we first met near the spring, and she unexpectedly appeared in the forest, her eyes had widened with surprise as if she had seen a ghost upon seeing my face. I’d said, “I’m not.”
At that moment, hadn’t she responded, “Oh, okay. I thought you looked like somebody else”?
And then, on the last day of the blue moon, the night she confided in me about her first love, she mentioned, “That person was probably in high school. He was backlit by the moonlight, making it difficult to see his face clearly. He was tall, wore a blue shirt, and had a bandage around his pinky finger…”
Hadn’t she explained it like that?
Blinded by my first intense experience of love, I failed to notice the subtle inconsistencies. I never fathomed that I had wandered into that world from six years ago. However, after Saki’s departure, along with the unsettling feeling, the truth had unraveled. She must have believed I was the person she had a crush on as soon as she saw me. Yet, when I declared, “I’m not,” she must have clung to those words.
And now, I wore a blue T-shirt. A bandage was wrapped around my little finger… It matched the description of the “he” she had spoken about. I was the only one capable of rescuing Saki, who had fallen into the spring all alone .
I must be the first love she had been yearning for.
“There is only one more opportunity to return to the past,” Grandma’s words reverberated in my mind.
Once the blue moonlight no longer reached Earth, the entrance to the past would close.
What would become of Saki, who had fallen into the spring, if I couldn’t go back to the past?
I glanced at the clock, swiftly grabbed the small box from the desk, and rushed out of the room. I ran down the stairs, my heart pounding with urgency, and burst into the living room where my sister was lounging on the sofa and my mother was busy in the kitchen. They both stared at me, taken aback by my sudden entrance.
“Mom, can you lend me some money?” I blurted, desperation in my voice.
“Keiichi, what’s the matter? Why do you need money all of a sudden?” my mother asked, clearly confused by my frantic request.
“I promise I’ll pay you back. It’s for something important, a crucial opportunity. Please, I need the money for the shinkansen to Kyoto,” I pleaded, my words tumbling out in a rush.
My mother’s initial surprise transformed into a momentary furrowed brow as she contemplated my request. Then, with an understanding expression, she nodded and reached for her wallet.
“Okay,” she said, pulling out several ten thousand-yen bills.
My sister, Akane, chimed in with a hint of concern, questioning the amount. “Is it really okay to lend him that much?”
“It’s fine. Keiichi has never asked me for anything like this before. It must be something important. I’ve always relied on him, so I can do this much for him,” my mother replied, her words instilling a sense of appreciation within me.
Despite the loneliness I had endured, her acknowledgement of my efforts filled me with joy. Grateful, I responded with heartfelt gratitude before rushing out of the house, money in hand.
I had to hurry; time was of the essence if I wanted to return to the past. The image of young Saki, just eleven years old, waiting for me at that spring propelled me forward.
I managed to stop a bus about to depart, quickly boarded it, and made my way to Tokyo Station. From there, I leaped onto the shinkansen, clutching the star fragment she had left behind.
Hurry, hurry, I urged myself silently, gripping the small star tightly in my hand, pouring my wishes into it as the train raced toward Kyoto Station.
“The next stop is Kyoto Station,” the announcement chimed as the shinkansen slowed. Concealing the star fragment within a bandage, I positioned myself near the train’s door, preparing to bolt as soon as it opened.
Thoughts raced through my mind. What would happen if I failed to arrive in time to harness the power of the blue moon and return to the past? Would Saki’s fate be irreparably altered? In the worst case, would she vanish from existence altogether?
As soon as the shinkansen came to a halt at Kyoto Station, I dashed off to the bus stop. I checked the schedule and found that the last bus to Arashiyama Station, where I usually alighted, had already departed. Seeking guidance, I approached a station attendant and asked about the route to Arashiyama. Boarding the subway and making a transfer, I eventually reached Arashiyama Station, sprinting again toward my destination.
As I ran through the dimly lit gravel road, the Togetsukyō and Oi River bridges came into view. The pale blue moonlight bathed the surroundings, casting an ethereal glow upon the bridges. The starry sky above remained breathtaking, with the faint reflection of the blue moon shimmering at its center. Yet, I couldn’t help but notice that the blue hue of the moon was fading.
The urgency to return to the past intensified. If I didn’t make it in time, Saki’s fate would be in jeopardy. With gritted teeth, I pushed myself through the misty blue world, struggling to find my way through the unfamiliar forest.
Unlike my experience during the first blue moon, I was disoriented and lost. The blue light that had guided me before seemed absent this time. It took me more than double the usual time to reach the forest and penetrate the dense thicket. The wind had changed, carrying a different scent, and the path that should have been there had vanished.
Over the past six years, the mountain path I once walked had succumbed to nature’s reclamation. The absence of children from the dormitory had stripped the forest of its vibrancy, leaving it to grow undisturbed. Relying on my memory, I forged ahead, pushing through the tangle of overlapping trees in search of the spring.
I noticed that the forest’s colors had shifted. The vibrant blue light I had witnessed just a month ago now struggled to reach the ground. Looking up at the night sky, I saw a veil of white clouds obscuring the full moon. If this veil were to blanket everything, the blue light would fade away, severing my connection to Saki forever.
“Where is it?” I shouted in frustration, desperately searching for the spring. I ignored the pain of tree branches scraping my hands and feet, determined to reach Saki as quickly as possible.
Despite my persistent exploration, I couldn’t find the entrance to the past. I had hoped returning to this forest would naturally transport me back in time, just like during the first blue moon, but now, I remained firmly entrenched in the present. The extended leaves, the altered wind, and the transformed forest — all existed in their current state.
Where should I go to find Saki? Where was the entrance to the past? No matter where I looked, the forest remained unchanged. The wind blew, and the leaves rustled, but their touch felt cold, devoid of any connection to the past.
“Saki…” I called out her name almost involuntarily. A faint elongated blue hue flickered intermittently in the grayish scenery beyond my voice. Could it be…?
Guided by the flickering blue shade, I pressed on. Slowly, my field of vision expanded, and there it was — the spring. Finally, I found it.
Crossing the overgrown vegetation and approaching the edge of the spring, memories flooded my mind. The trees surrounding the spring, where we had spent so much time together, had grown wild, their branches intertwining. Even the wooden board she had used to scoop up stars had succumbed to decay over the past six years.
I arrived at the familiar corner of the spring, where she always used to be, but nothing happened. I had no idea how to return to the past. This world seemed too dark, with the blue light unable to penetrate far enough. Despair settled in, and I looked up at the night sky. The faint blue light of the moon, embedded within the starry expanse, teetered on the edge of disappearance. If that light were to fade, the blue moon would revert to an ordinary moon.
Time was running out. This was not good. I remembered my grandmother’s words: “People who can travel back to the past are those who strongly desire to go to that world.”
With that profound wish resonating within me, I stepped onto the weathered wooden board beneath my feet and leaped into the sky. My body floated in the air, and then I dove through the water’s surface, precisely where the blue moonlight reflected most prominently.
That was the place where the blue light reached its peak — the gateway to the past.