1. Dreams

"Mitsuha, you're dreaming right now, aren't you?"

Hitoha lethargically opened her eyes, blinking slowly to dispel the disorientation that comes with waking up in the morning. It was still early; the sun's rays filtered in through the windows, casting the room in a warm light. Perhaps she'd get more sleep were she to draw the curtains and block the light out, but a seventy-something-year-old habit becomes hard to break. Besides, she still had to set a good example for her granddaughters, both of whom tended to have problems starting the day at all, never mind at six in the morning.

She got up, groaning slightly as her bones and joints creaked and protested. It had become increasingly more difficult to get ready for the day, especially in recent years, but she was a Miyamizu: stubborn and steadfast in her beliefs. A little early-morning discomfort was nothing compared to the importance of the traditions that her family upheld.

She bundled her hair into a loose knot, not paying particular attention to how it fell or how it looked. Her vanity had all but vanished in her advanced age; tying her hair back now was solely in the name of practicality. Besides, it took energy to maintain an elaborate hairstyle, and only her granddaughters had that kind of energy.

She sighed. Her granddaughters. They'd been on her mind a lot lately, more so than usual. More specifically, the elder, Mitsuha. Her behavior lately had taken a drastic change about a month ago. One morning, she had woken up in complete bewilderment; hair a mess, skirt on backwards, and asking how to get to school. It certainly was strange, but Hitoha didn't pay it much mind once she was back to normal the next day.

It was the next week - and the next, and the next - where she started paying attention. Every few days, Mitsuha's entire personality would turn on its head. Most of the time she was the same sweet, compassionate young woman that had come to warm Hitoha's heart in the time since losing her husband and daughter, but several times a week she'd suddenly change, becoming distinctly more short-tempered and assertive.

Eventually, Hitoha figured it out. There had been something familiar in the two disparate temperaments - something that had brought up vague images of long-forgotten memories.

"So she's been dreaming," Hitoha murmured to herself, as she stepped lightly out of her room and headed towards the kitchen. Mitsuha - or whoever was in Mitsuha's body - had been shocked to learn of Hitoha's awareness of this sort of phenomenon when they were up on the crater. It certainly wasn't a common thing; the only sort of predictability Hitoha was aware of was in how almost every member of the Miyamizu line experienced it.

Hitoha sighed. It had been many years since her own dreams of someone else's life. She had long forgotten most of the details; only fleeting glimpses of a vast, silver metropolis remained. It was through this experience that she learned the meaning of musubi - of how certain interpersonal connections can transcend the boundaries of space and time, life and death.

Reaching the kitchen, she busied herself measuring out three servings of rice, pouring the dried grains in a bowl of water. Swirl, rinse. Strain. Soak. She set the bowl aside, sitting back on her heels in seiza. She returned her thoughts to her granddaughters.

All things considered, Mitsuha's life may have actually taken a turn for the better. According to Yotsuha, she's become much more popular in school since the dreams started, the other person using their athletic prowess and better assertion to attract her - them? - fans and admirers. Supposedly, she's been receiving numerous love letters, even from other girls.

But there's something more, Hitoha thought to herself. She could see it in Mitsuha's eyes, and in the ways her behavior became subtly more subdued as the days went on. There was some stronger bond between her and her counterpart than any other pair Hitoha had ever seen or known. In all the stories that her own mother and grandmother had passed down to her, in watching her daughter Futaba go through the same experience, never had any of them been so attached - so in love - with their companions.

Hitoha sighed again. That's a problem. The ephemeral nature of dreams means that almost nobody of the Miyamizu family remembers the most important details of their experiences: who the other person was. The emotions, though, remain. Hitoha worried that Mitsuha falling in love with her dream self would leave her with an emptiness in the soul when the memories fade while the sentiments remain, only to be filled upon meeting that person again.

Of course, it's not completely impossible. No, it certainly wasn't. Hitoha rarely remembered any of her normal day-to-day dreams, for instance, but sometimes visual or aural similarities in the world made those memories resurface, the brain reconnecting scattered points. It stood to reason, then, that the simple act of meeting this person again would allow Mitsuha - Or rather, both of them, she corrected herself - to remember the special bond they had.

Either way, she concluded, it will hurt. Yes, loss always hurts, even if one cannot remember who it was. When Mitsuha's experience inevitably ends, she will hurt - months, years, perhaps even decades to come. Depending on how deeply she falls for this person, she might never feel true happiness - true fulfillment - until meeting them again. Musubi would ensure their reunion, but there was no guarantee it would happen within their lifetimes.

Hitoha finished her thoughts just as the house began to wake up behind her. She heard the sink run just a few seconds before Mitsuha's alarm went off, then the daily routine of Yotsuha barging into her older sister's room to fully drag her out of slumber before returning to the bathroom to finish brushing her teeth. Hitoha took this time to drain, rinse, and start drying the rice, letting the natural drying process remove excess moisture. Some twenty minutes later, as she started pouring the grains into boiling water, her grandchildren entered the dining area. She noticed the red ribbon in Mitsuha's hair. It's her today, she noted, nodding slightly. The other person had no clue how Mitsuha did her hair, instead roughly tying it into a ponytail every time they switched bodies.

"Good morning," she greeted her granddaughters.

"Good morning," they chorused back. Mitsuha was unusually reserved today, keeping her gaze down as she helped set the table, but Hitoha caught a glimpse of redness in her eyes.

Crying? she wondered. Perhaps some wistful thinking? She pretended not to notice. Mitsuha was the type to seek out help only if she really needed it; besides, there really wasn't anything Hitoha could do. Dealing with these exceptional dreams and their associated emotions was something only Mitsuha could do herself.

Instead, she asked the normal morning questions: did you sleep well, did you finish your homework, are your bags packed for school. She noted how Mitsuha tried to keep up a pretense of enthusiasm, but she could sense a brittle, fragile soul struck with heartache behind the façade.

Hitoha sighed internally. How unfortunate to find love in someone so elusive. She wasn't even sure if Mitsuha had even considered the possibility that she and her counterpart likely weren't even in the same timeline.

Perhaps I should have a talk with her. Yes, perhaps. Maybe it would be better to nip this in the bud. It would hurt less now than if these feelings were allowed to blossom.

Hitoha dried the rice, serving a portion into each bowl. She'd really have to think about it while the girls were at school. How best to broach the subject? Should Yotsuha be there, lest she have these same experiences soon? What should she even say?

She shook her head. Think about that later. Right now was breakfast. The three took their places around the table.

"Itadakimasu!"

After Hitoha had finished breakfast and sent the girls to school, she leaned over the sink, hand on her chin. She so engrossed herself in thinking that she almost missed the girls' conversation outside the window.

"...to Tokyo tonight."

...I need to explain to her how our family- what?

"Huh? Why?"

Hitoha was suddenly hit with a sinking feeling. Mitsuha's next statement confirmed her worst suspicions.

"I have a date."

"What? You have a boyfriend?!"

Oh, no. She intended to go see him - at least his gender was determined now - tonight. Hitoha shook her head. Love had turned Mitsuha irrational. As far as she was aware, Mitsuha had no real contact information to act on. It was as if she were relying on her ability to spot this boy in the entirety of Tokyo. Hitoha had hoped to break the news to Mitsuha in a more...controlled fashion, but that was now sadly out of the question. The only thing left would be to wait...and see.