Chapter 7

Chapter Seven Struggle, Magnificently I run. I’m sprinting down a dark deer track, repeating his name again and again. Taki, Taki, Taki. It’s all right. I remember. I’ll never forget. At last, through the gaps in the trees, I begin catching glimpses of the lights of Itomori. The wind carries faint, scattered snatches of festival music to me. Taki, Taki, Taki. When I look up at the sky, Comet Tiamat is there, shining brighter than the moon, its long tail trailing behind it. The terror nearly makes me recoil, but I scream his name and stomp it down. Your name is Taki! I hear the sound of a moped, and when I raise my head, a headlight comes up over the slope and shines right in my eyes. “Tesshi!” I shout, running up to it. “Mitsuha! Where the heck you been?!” He sounds like he’s scolding me, but I really can’t explain. Tesshi’s in his school uniform with the sleeves rolled up, and he’s wearing a helmet with a big light attached to it, like he’s going spelunking. I give him Taki’s message. “He said he broke your bike, and he’s sorry.” “Huh? Who did?” “I did!” Tesshi’s eyebrows furrow, but he shuts off the moped’s engine and turns on his helmet light without a word. He breaks into a run. “You better gimme the whole story later!” he says in a loud, rough voice. ITOMORI SUBSTATION—COMPANY-OWNED LAND: KEEP OUT, says the plate on the chain-link fence. Beyond it, transformers and steel towers form a complicated silhouette. It’s an unmanned facility, and the only lights I can see are the red lamps on machinery here and there. “That thing’s comin’ down? For real?!” Tesshi asks, looking up at the sky. We’re in front of the substation’s chain-link fence, gazing at the glittering comet. “It will! I saw it happen!” As I speak, I look him straight in the eye. We’ve got two hours until it falls. There’s no time to explain. For a moment, Tesshi looks dubious. Then, with a sharp “Hah!” he grins. His smile looks like something he’s mustered out of sheer desperation. “You saw it, huh?! Then I guess we’ve gotta do this!” Tesshi practically rips opens his sports bag. It’s stuffed with tubes that look like race batons wrapped in brown paper: water-gel explosives. I gulp. Tesshi takes out a big bolt cutter, sets its blades against the chain wrapped around the substation gate, and says, “Mitsuha. If we do this, there’s no goin’ back.” “Please. I’ll take all the responsibility.” “Moron! That ain’t what I’m askin’!” Tesshi sounds angry, and for some reason, he’s blushing a bit. “Well, we’re both criminals now!” He cuts the chain, and the loud rattle shatters the darkness. “When the power in town goes out, the school should switch over to the emergency generator right away! You’ll be able to use the broadcastin’ equipment then!” Tesshi shouts in the direction of the smartphone. He’s driving the moped, and I’m behind him, holding the phone up to his mouth. Almost no cars pass us, and we’re starting to see the lights of scattered houses along the dark prefectural road. We’re heading for an area between the slopes of the mountains, where the lights are concentrated: Miyamizu Shrine, the site of the autumn festival. Out of nowhere, I feel an odd nostalgia, as if I’ve come back home after a long time away. “Mitsuha, she wants to talk to you.” “Hello? Saya?!” I put the smartphone to my own ear. “Waaaaaah, Mitsuhaaaa!” Saya sounds like she’s in tears. “C’mon, do I really have to do this?!” Her anxious voice sends a pang through my heart. If I were in her shoes, I’d probably be crying, too. Even sneaking by yourself into the broadcasting room at night is something you’d do only for a friend. “Saya, I’m sorry, but I’m beggin’ you! Please!” At this point, that’s all I can say. “I’ll never ask you for anythin’ else as long as I live, but if we don’t do this, a lot of people are gonna die! Once you start the announcement, repeat it for as long as you can!” There’s no response. All I can hear from the receiver are little muffled sniffling noises. “Saya? Saya!” I start getting nervous. Abruptly, I hear a tiny voice. “Okay! Agh, I don’t even care anymore! You tell Tesshi he better buy me somethin’, too!” “What’d she say?” Putting the smartphone in my skirt pocket, I yell back loud enough to be heard over the moped’s engine. “That you better buy her somethin’, too!” “Awright, let’s do this!” Tesshi shouts determinedly, as if trying to suppress something, and just then, behind us, there’s a bang like a big firework bursting. We stop the moped and look back. Two, three. One more. The explosions echo one after another, and halfway up the mountain—where we were just a few minutes ago—thick black smoke is rising. In slow motion, an enormous transmission tower begins tilting. “Tesshi…!” My voice quavers. “Ha-ha!” Tesshi’s breath is shaky, too. It sounds like a laugh. There’s an even bigger explosion, and the lights of the town instantly go dark. “Hey,” Tesshi intones, sounding kind of dazed. “The power’s out,” I say, stating the obvious. It worked. We did it. Suddenly, sirens well up, beginning to wail. oooOOOOOOOOoooooo…! The earsplitting noise reverberates from speakers all over town. It’s an ominous sound, like a giant’s scream, and it ricochets off the mountains, pervading the area. It’s Saya. She’s hijacked the wireless disaster prevention system. We exchange wordless nods, then straddle the moped again. As we race toward the shrine, the speakers broadcasting Saya’s voice spur us on. Slowly, calmly, as if her earlier tearful cries were fake, she delivers the message we came up with: “This is Town Hall. An explosion has occurred at Itomori Substation. There is a danger of further explosions and forest fires.” Tesshi’s moped goes off the prefectural road and climbs up a narrow mountain track. It’s the gentler slope up to the shrine—this way, we can take the moped all the way to the back of the main building and avoid the stone stairs on the shrine approach. The seat shakes violently, and I cling to Tesshi’s back as I listen to Saya’s voice booming through the town. She sounds exactly like her big sister. Nobody would suspect this isn’t a broadcast from the town hall. “People in the following districts are requested to evacuate to Itomori High School immediately. Kadoiri District, Sakagami District, Miyamori District, Oyazawa District…” “This’s it. C’mon, Mitsuha!” “Right!” We leap off the moped and run down the set of wooden steps up the slope of the mountain behind the shrine. From between the trees, I can see the roofs of the long rows of stalls set up on the shrine grounds and the people milling around among them, like fish crowded too closely in a dark tank. As we run, we take off our helmets and throw them away. “I repeat: This is Itomori Town Hall. An explosion has occurred at the substation. There is a danger of further explosions and forest fires…” When we hit the bottom of the stairs, we’re behind the main shrine building. The silhouettes of the people gathered for the festival are just ahead, and I hear an uneasy murmur. Tesshi and I dash into their midst as if we’re racing each other, yelling. “Ruuun! A forest fire’s comin’! This place ain’t safe!” Tesshi’s voice is unbelievably loud, like he’s using a megaphone. I shout, too, determined not to be outdone. “Please run! There’s a forest fire! Run!” We emerge in the very center of the grounds. “Yeah, they said there really is a forest fire!” “C’mon, let’s get outta here.” “We’re walkin’ all the way to the high school?” The broadcast set the evacuation in motion, and our shouts are pushing it along. Men and women in traditional wear, children, and old people holding their grandkids’ hands all begin filing toward the shrine gate at the exit. I’m relieved. If things go on like this, we’ll make it for sure. It’s all thanks to him… “Him”? “Mitsuha!” Tesshi calls my name sharply. I look up at him. “This ain’t good!” Following his gaze around us, I see lots of people sitting down and taking it easy by the stalls or standing, idly talking. They’re even smoking cigarettes or drinking, chatting away and enjoying the evening. “There’s no way we’re movin’ all these folks unless an actual forest fire comes through! We have to get them to send out the fire brigade and direct the evacuation. You get to the town hall, and this time make sure the mayor…” Tesshi’s flustered voice is right above my head, but it sounds terribly far away… Him? “Hey. Mitsuha? What’s up?” “…Tesshi, listen, what’ll I do?” My mind isn’t working, and before I know it, I’m pleading to Tesshi. “His name… I can’t remember his name!” Tesshi’s face twists with worry. Suddenly, he yells at me. “Who the hell cares, you idiot?! Look around! You started all this!” He’s glaring at me, furious. Belatedly, I notice that Saya’s call to “Please evacuate to Itomori High School” is now erratic, as if she’s about to burst into tears. “Mitsuha, go!” Tesshi gives a heartrending yell, practically begging this time. “Go talk your dad around!” My spine straightens as though he’s slapped me across the face. “…Right!” I nod as firmly as I can, then bolt into a sprint, trying to shake myself free. Behind me, I hear Tesshi scream again. “I said run, y’all! Get to the high school!” Saya’s voice echoes all over town. “There is a danger of forest fires. Please evacuate to Itomori High School.” I push my way through the lumbering crowd, under the shrine gate, down the stone stairs on the shrine approach. “You started all this,” Tesshi’d said. He’s right: This is something I—we—started. Still running, I glance at the comet overhead. With the lights on the ground extinguished, the comet’s even brighter. Its long tail streams over the clouds. It’s scattering shining scales like a giant moth. I’m not letting you get your way, I think, as if challenging it to a fight. It’s all right. You’ll make it. Somebody once told me that with conviction. I repeat the words silently to myself. It was early autumn, and I was still in middle school. I’d finally gotten used to living with just my dad, and after finishing a dinner that we’d both worked hard to make (and still hadn’t been all that good), I was drinking tea and eating an apple while Dad enjoyed a beer. That day, the news about the comet’s closest approach had pretty much taken over the TV. I wasn’t all that interested in stars or the cosmos, but I did find it kind of amazing how the universe is actually overflowing with phenomena that exist on a completely different scale from humans, like a solar orbit that lasts twelve hundred years or an orbital radius over 10.4 billion miles. As impressions went, it was dumb. Still, it struck me as so awesome that it made me shiver and, at the same time, so frightening it set my heart trembling as well. “Look!” Suddenly, the announcer who’d been delivering commentary yelled in excitement. “The comet appears to have split in two. Around it are…what seem to be countless shooting stars.” When the camera zoomed in, the comet really had forked above the background of Tokyo skyscrapers. Thin lines like a meteor shower appeared and disappeared at its tip. There was a delicate, almost artificial beauty about it, and my eyes went wide. Abruptly, the wireless broadcast is interrupted by the click of an opening door. I hear a short shriek from Saya, and then several familiar male voices emerge from the speakers. “Kid, what are you doin’?!” “Hurry, shut it off!” There’s a clatter like a chair falling over, and then the wireless broadcast cuts off with a brief burst of shrill feedback. “Saya…!” I stop, calling her name involuntarily. The teachers caught her. Large beads of sweat pop out as if they’ve just remembered their jobs, falling to the asphalt with audible drips. I’m on the road that circles around the lake, the one that goes to the town hall and the high school, and I start hearing bewildered voices from several evacuees. “What? What’s goin’ on?” “Huh? Was there some sort of trouble?” “What about the evacuation?” Oh no. A moment later, a voice booms from the wireless speakers again. “This is Itomori Town Hall.” It’s not Saya or her big sister. It’s the middle-aged guy in charge of Town Hall broadcasts, someone I hear every once in a while. “We are currently looking into the circumstances surrounding the accident. We request that all residents refrain from panicking. Please stay where you are and wait for further instructions.” I lurch forward again. They figured out where the broadcast was coming from, and the town hall contacted the school. Saya’s going to get grilled by the teachers. Tesshi will be in big trouble, too, if this keeps up. “I repeat: Do not panic. Stay where you are and wait for further instructions.” They can’t stay where they are! I have to make them stop this broadcast! I leave the prefectural road, plunging from the gap in the asphalt onto a slope that’s overgrown with brush. It’s a shortcut to the town hall. The thorns on the bushes scrape and sting my bare legs. A spiderweb clings to my face, and little winged bugs get into my mouth. Finally, I hit the bottom of the slope and run out onto asphalt again. I can’t see anyone around me. There’s only the voice from the wireless broadcast, issuing orders to stay put. As I run, I spit out the saliva that’s pooled in my mouth, wiping my sweaty, tear-streaked, cobweb-sticky face with my sleeve. My legs have gone watery, and I stagger. Even then, I keep running. I’m going downhill, and I’m not losing speed. I’m on a gentle curve, and it’s bringing me closer to the guardrail. Below it is the incline down to the lake. “…Huh?!” A feeling that something’s wrong makes me look in that direction. The lake shines faintly. I strain my eyes. No, it isn’t the water glowing. Its calm surface is reflecting the sky. Like a mirror, the lake reveals two shining tails… Two? I tilt my head to the sky. Oh, the comet— It’s finally… “…It split!” I was channel surfing. Every station jabbered excitedly about the unexpected astronomy show. “The comet has definitely split in two.” “This wasn’t predicted beforehand, correct?” “Still, what an extraordinarily fantastic sight…” “Is it safe to conclude that the nucleus of the comet has divided?” “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. …But this isn’t… Tears spill over, and my vision blurs again. Something like a warm wave spreads through me, like a spring that’s welled up with the tears. Still crying, I laugh, talking to you. This doesn’t tell me your name. Then one more time, I surge forward with all my might. I’m not afraid of anything now. I’m not scared of anyone. I’m not lonely anymore. I finally understand. I’m in love. We’re in love. That means we’ll meet again. I’m sure of it. And so I’ll live. I’ll survive this. No matter what happens, even if the stars fall, I will live. Right up until it happened, no one managed to predict that the comet’s nucleus would shatter near Earth, or that there was a huge rocky mass buried in its ice-covered core. The town happened to be holding its autumn festival that day. The strike occurred at 8:42 PM. The point of impact was near Miyamizu Shrine, where the festival was being held. The meteorite instantly destroyed a wide area, centered on the shrine. The crater formed by the impact was nearly half a mile across. Water from the lake beside it rushed in, swallowing the remains of the town. Itomori became the site of the worst meteorite disaster in human history. I remember these things as I look down over gourd-shaped New Itomori Lake. It reflects the sun in the midst of a faint morning haze, endlessly serene. It’s hard to imagine that three years ago it was the site of such a tragedy. I can’t quite believe that the comet I saw in the sky over Tokyo did this. I’m standing on a rock-littered mountain peak, all alone. I was here when I woke up. For no real reason, I look at my right hand. There’s a single, half-drawn line on my palm. “What is this…?” I mutter quietly. “What was I doing way out here?”