Hatakeyama Natsuki |work| -

“All right, Other Natsuki,” she said. “Lead the way to your Mirror Sea. But I’m not going there to return a fish. I’m going there to find out why a dead girl with my name is the only one who can help me.”

“Then I guess,” she said, stepping toward the sound, “you’d better come with me and make sure I don’t do anything stupid.” hatakeyama natsuki

The humming stopped. In the silence, Natsuki heard something else: the distant, rhythmic crash of waves where no ocean should be. “All right, Other Natsuki,” she said

“It’s temporary,” the boy said. “Return the kuro-sardine to the Mirror Sea within three tides, and you can go back to your life. Fail, and the webbing will creep up your arms, over your chest, across your face. On the third sunrise, you’ll sprout gills and drown in the air.” I’m going there to find out why a

The last thing Natsuki Hatakeyama remembered was the wet slap of a fish tail against her cheek. Now she was standing in a silent, rain-slicked alley in Tokyo, holding a sardine.

“We share a name,” he said, straightening. “A rare resonance. That’s why I was sent. I am the Fune no Mono —the Ferry’s Keeper. My duty is to guide souls like you to the Mirror Sea. But you… you’re not a soul anymore. You’re a hybrid. And you have exactly eighteen hours.”

Natsuki spun. A boy her age—seventeen, maybe—leaned against a dumpster. He wore an immaculate navy school uniform, not a single crease out of place. His eyes, however, were not human. They were polished obsidian, reflecting the alley’s single flickering light like two dark moons.