Holding his lovely fiancée in his arms, Hozuki Nozomi slept soundly, the gentle rhythm of her breathing a comforting presence against his chest. The warmth of their shared bed lulled him into a depth of rest so profound that he remained entirely oblivious to the soft chime that echoed within his consciousness.
[Ding, forming a bond.]
The notification drifted through his mind like a whisper on the wind, unnoticed and unheeded, swallowed by the peaceful darkness of dreamless sleep.
...
The next morning, Hozuki Nozomi slowly opened his eyes.
"Eh?"
A familiar yet strange sensation immediately washed over him—a subtle wrongness in the way his body felt, the distribution of weight, the very texture of his limbs against the sheets. Something was off. Something was very off.
He subconsciously raised his hand and pressed it against his chest.
The soft touch made him fully awake in an instant.
He looked down.
Indeed, this was not his body.
Slender arms, delicate fingers, long legs that seemed to stretch further than he remembered. And the distinct emptiness below, the absence of familiar weight—all of it proved one thing with undeniable clarity: he had swapped bodies with a girl.
Hozuki Nozomi's mind immediately went to the kuchikamizake he had drunk. The sacred ritual, the chewed rice wine, the connection between time and spirit—it could only be that.
"So… is this Miyamizu Yotsuha's body?"
He threw off the covers and rose from the bed, his movements slightly uncoordinated as he adjusted to a different center of gravity. The room around him was modest but tidy, decorated with the careful hand of a young girl who took pride in her space. He walked toward the mirror on the wall.
In the reflection stood a beautiful girl with long, lustrous black hair that cascaded past her shoulders. Her figure was petite—she looked to be a middle school student—but possessed a development that was surprisingly voluptuous for her age, a fact that made Hozuki Nozomi momentarily avert his gaze out of instinctive respect. Her skin was fair and smooth, untouched by the sun in a way that spoke of city living rather than countryside. Her large, watery eyes seemed to hold a lively sparkle, as if they could speak on their own.
Itomori Town.
The destruction event had happened three years ago. He and Mitsuha had changed destiny together, weaving a new timeline where the meteor's impact claimed no lives. Miyamizu Yotsuha had survived along with everyone else.
Three years ago, she had been a fourth-grade elementary school student. Now, she would be a middle school student, probably in her first or second year.
He brought up the system interface, the familiar holographic display flickering to life before his eyes. Only then did he notice the notification from last night—the one he had slept through.
[Forming a bond]
The Game Life System did not do meaningless things. Every prompt, every quest, every notification served a purpose. His body swap with Yotsuha must have a special significance, some deeper reason that would become clear in time.
Still, he couldn't figure out the specifics. There were too few clues, too many variables. He didn't dwell on it. The system would reveal its intentions when the moment was right.
After getting up and dressed—carefully selecting an outfit that suited Yotsuha's style—he stood before the mirror once more. He straightened her hair with practiced hands, dividing it into two neat sections and tying them into pigtails with the two blue ribbons he found on her dresser. He adjusted the placement, ensuring the ribbons sat at the perfect angle, framing her face in a way that accentuated her features rather than overwhelming them.
He looked left and right in front of the mirror, a satisfied smile crossing his features.
"As expected of me," he murmured to his reflection. "My craftsmanship is as good as ever."
He was, after all, quite skilled at dressing up girls beautifully. He had Shiina Mahiru, who let him dress her up like a precious doll, indulging his every whim with patient affection. The practice had honed his abilities to a fine edge.
Arriving at the kitchen, he surveyed the available ingredients with a professional eye. Eggs, rice, vegetables, a few seasonings—more than enough. He moved with quiet efficiency, cracking eggs with one hand, dicing vegetables with a speed that spoke of long experience. Within minutes, the aroma of a hearty breakfast filled the Miyamizu household.
Then he pulled out his phone and called Miyamizu Mitsuha.
"Sister, wake up and eat!" he said cheerfully, pitching his voice to match Yotsuha's lively tone.
Checking his phone's location, he noted that Mitsuha's family had actually moved to Tokyo. The distance was considerable, though—farther than he expected, probably near Toyonosaki Academy rather than close to Sakura Dormitory.
Miyamizu Mitsuha was woken by her sister's call, blinking groggily at the ceiling. She felt a bit dazed. This little girl usually came over to wake her up in person, shaking her shoulders and complaining about her laziness. Today she was playing a new trick, waking her with a phone call like she was some kind of hotel wake-up service.
Mitsuha reluctantly got up, shuffling through her morning routine before making her way to the living room.
Looking at the dishes spread across the table, she couldn't help but inhale deeply. "It smells so good!"
She blinked at the spread before her. The dishes were beautifully presented, seasoned with a delicate balance that spoke of sophisticated technique.
"Yotsuha, when did you learn to cook Huaguo cuisine?"
Hozuki Nozomi answered calmly, his expression innocent. "I've always known how."
"Is that so?" Miyamizu Mitsuha tilted her head, a flicker of confusion crossing her features before it faded. She didn't dwell on it, instead sitting down and waiting for the rest of the family to join.
Hozuki Nozomi, meanwhile, took the opportunity to observe Miyamizu Mitsuha.
According to the timeline, Miyamizu Mitsuha had been a high school freshman three years ago. That would make her a university student now—perhaps in her first or second year. The years had been kind to her. Compared to her high school days, she had developed even more, her figure maturing into something graceful and elegant. Her height had increased as well, and her already beautiful face now carried an added touch of intellectual refinement, the kind that came from study and growth.
Hozuki Nozomi couldn't help but feel somewhat gratified. He felt that Mitsuha's growth was inseparable from his help. The memory of that summer, of the comet, of the desperate race against time—it all seemed distant now, but the connection remained.
Soon, the grandmother emerged from her room, her movements slow but steady, and took her seat at the table. Following her was Miyamizu Toshiki, Mitsuha and Yotsuha's father. It seemed that after the meteor incident, Miyamizu Toshiki had been fully re-accepted by Miyamizu Hitoha and had returned to the family home. The reconciliation had been slow, but time had healed wounds that once seemed permanent.
"Eh, the food smells so good today?" Miyamizu Toshiki asked curiously, his eyes widening at the spread before him. "Did you learn something new, Yotsuha?"
Three years ago, in the chaos of the meteor's descent, he had somehow gathered everyone to take refuge at Itomori High School. When the meteor fell and the town was destroyed, everyone had been safe because of his leadership. That act had elevated his status from town mayor to a council member, a stepping stone toward the House of Representatives. His political future was bright, built upon the foundation of a single, decisive night.
"Yes, I just learned it," Hozuki Nozomi replied, his voice carrying a hint of mischief. "A handsome and dashing older brother taught me."
"Oh?" Toshiki raised an eyebrow, exchanging a glance with his mother-in-law. "Who is it? I haven't seen you dating any older brothers, Yotsuha."
Miyamizu Mitsuha looked at her middle school sister in confusion, chopsticks frozen halfway to her mouth. "Yeah, what older brother?"
"Miyamizu Yotsuha" blinked, her expression turning thoughtful. Then, tentatively, she said, "His name is Hozuki Nozomi. Do you remember him, Sister?"
"Hozuki Nozomi?"
Miyamizu Mitsuha showed a puzzled expression, her brow furrowing as she searched her memory.
Suddenly, her body trembled.
She murmured the name again, softer this time, as if tasting each syllable. "Hozuki Nozomi… Hozuki Nozomi!"
Something stirred within her—a fragment of memory, a ghost of a feeling she couldn't quite grasp. Her eyes widened, and tears began to stream down her cheeks, unbidden and uncontrollable.
"Mitsuha?" Miyamizu Hitoha and Miyamizu Toshiki looked at her in confusion, concern etching their features.
"Ah, it's nothing." Miyamizu Mitsuha quickly wiped away her tears, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I just remembered some things. Nothing important."
The meal continued, but an undercurrent of tension lingered beneath the surface. Mitsuha ate mechanically, her thoughts clearly elsewhere, while her father and grandmother exchanged curious glances that went unacknowledged.
After eating, Miyamizu Mitsuha grabbed her sister's hand and pulled her toward her room, her grip firm and insistent.
"Yotsuha, tell me honestly," she said once the door was closed behind them, her voice low and intense. "Where did you see Nozomi?"
"He lives in Sakura Dormitory," Yotsuha answered, keeping her expression neutral. "Sister, have you forgotten?"
"Sakura Dormitory?"
"Yes, it's near Suimei Arts University Affiliated High School."
"I see…" Mitsuha's voice trailed off, her eyes distant. Then she smiled, a genuine warmth breaking through her confusion. "Thank you, Yotsuha."
"Idiot," Yotsuha said, injecting a note of irritation into her voice that she didn't truly feel. "I'm your sister, why are you being so polite?"
Yotsuha glared at her unhappily, planting her hands on her hips. "I'm going to school. You can wash the dishes today, elder sister!"
Without waiting for a response, she turned and ran off in a puff of smoke—metaphorically, at least, though the speed of her departure left Mitsuha blinking in surprise.
Miyamizu Mitsuha's lips twitched slightly, a mixture of exasperation and fondness crossing her features. Yotsuha was becoming increasingly fond of shirking her chores. Still, she supposed it was her own fault. She did wake up too late every day, leaving her younger sister to handle breakfast on most mornings. Her sister probably had quite a few complaints stored up.
Mitsuha sighed, reflected briefly on her own habits, and then went to wash the dishes.
She planned to go to Sakura Dormitory that afternoon. She didn't remember much about what happened three years ago—the memories were fragmented, like a dream that faded upon waking. But she instinctively felt that "Hozuki Nozomi" was very important. The name echoed in her chest with a resonance she couldn't explain, a warmth that felt like coming home.
...
Hozuki Nozomi arrived at the school where Miyamizu Yotsuha was enrolled, navigating the unfamiliar hallways with the practiced ease of someone who had changed schools more times than he could count. The building was typical for a Tokyo middle school—clean, modern, bustling with students whose chatter filled the corridors.
When he reached Yotsuha's classroom, he stopped in the doorway.
Good heavens.
In the class, he saw Kosaka Kirino and Aragaki Ayase.
So Yotsuha and Kirino were classmates. The coincidence was almost too perfect—or perhaps it wasn't a coincidence at all. The system had a way of arranging things, weaving connections where none seemed to exist.
Thus, Hozuki Nozomi enthusiastically greeted the three girls he recognized.
"Kosaka, Aragaki, and Kurusu Kanako," he said, offering a bright smile. "Good morning."
"Ah? Morning…" Kosaka Kirino was stunned for a moment, her eyes widening at the unexpected greeting. Then, recovering quickly, she returned the smile with enthusiasm, her natural friendliness shining through.
Aragaki Ayase also replied with a warm smile, her voice gentle. "Good morning, Miyamizu-san."
Kurusu Kanako, with her twin pigtails bouncing as she turned, looked at the girl before her. Miyamizu Yotsuha carried herself like a noble's daughter, her posture impeccable, her features so refined that they outshone even her own. Kanako's lips curled slightly—not quite a frown, but something close to guarded skepticism.
"What's this?" she said, her voice carrying a hint of sharpness. "Has Miyamizu become some kind of rich miss?"
The junior high school curriculum was not stressful for Hozuki Nozomi. He had long since mastered the material, and the lessons passed in a comfortable blur of familiar concepts.
But the atmosphere in the class told a different story.
Temperament varied from person to person. Originally, Yotsuha had been lively in class, but being a transfer student—and a noticeably cute one at that—had made her a target for subtle ostracism. The other girls, particularly those who had come from the same rural area, whispered behind her back, made cutting remarks disguised as jokes, excluded her from lunch groups and after-school plans.
Gradually, Miyamizu Yotsuha had changed.
She seemed to have grown up too fast, the weight of those small cruelties pressing down on her shoulders until she began to carry her own worries, her own doubts. Among them, the most painful was making friends. It shouldn't have been a problem—she was friendly, genuine, eager to connect—but because she came from a remote countryside, the very thing that made her unique had become a weapon used against her.
Several girls who had gone to junior high school with her from the countryside had turned against her, perhaps threatened by her natural charm, perhaps simply following the cruel instincts of adolescence. They whispered, they laughed, they made her feel like an outsider in a place where she should have belonged.
What had once happened to Miyamizu Mitsuha—the isolation, the loneliness, the slow erosion of self-worth—was now happening again to Miyamizu Yotsuha.
The little girl had become unconfident. Over time, her natural brightness had dimmed, replaced by a quiet uncertainty that made her shrink into the background. When she came home, she didn't want her elder sister and grandmother to worry, so she still pretended to be lively, laughing and joking as if nothing was wrong.
But here, in the classroom, the truth was visible to anyone who knew how to look.
Hozuki Nozomi noticed the strange atmosphere immediately. The way some girls glanced at "Yotsuha" with barely concealed disdain. The way others simply looked away, refusing to meet her eyes. The empty seat beside her that should have been filled with a friend.
He noticed it all.