Chapter 1: Prologue

It is said that in ancient times, the power of sound was woven into the very fabric of the world.

And thus, The Celestial Maiden, Ame-no-Uzume decreed:

"To those who elevate music to the Celestial Realm, and who possess a heart of deep trust and love, 

The Radiant Brush and the Tome of Fate shall be bestowed. Only those who reweave the logic of life are worthy to inherit this power.

Those who heal hearts with sound and reweave life across time,

Shall open the future through a heart pierced by trust and love."

   — From "The Chronicles of Japan (Nihon Shoki)"

I hear sounds.

Tires screeching.

Brakes locking up.

Someone screaming.

What happened to me?

When did I end up lying here, staring at the sky?

Someone is shouting at me as I lie here.

A blonde woman... and a child?

Ah, that's right... I shielded them... from that car...

I see. I protected them.

The child... ah, they're safe. Thank goodness...

So, that's why I'm lying here.

Are my hands still there?

I can't move them.

But they don't hurt, either.

I guess... I won't be holding a baton anymore... haha...

It's cold...

The sounds I heard are fading away.

The last thing ringing deep in my ears is a thin, high-pitched sound, like a taut string.

...Ah, so this is the final note.

The sound of my heartbeat is ending, too.

All sound vanished.

In its place—silence rang out.

The woman is screaming something at me, large tears streaming down her face.

Mito. I wonder if I was of any use.

I became a conductor.

I did reasonably well in Europe, too.

But—the truth is, I wanted to be your strength more than anything.

I wanted to hear that sound... just one more time.

If I had the power I have now back then... could I have made your dream... come true...?

...It's bright.

Can I... open my eyes?

Where is this...?

When I inhale, my chest hurts.

But there's no smell of blood or iron.

Instead... the smell of miso soup?

Am I alive?

...That's impossible.

I'm lying on my back.

The ceiling is close.

No—is this the bottom of a top bunk bed?

Did someone carry me here?

This place... feels familiar, yet—hmm? My body moves.

I don't understand what's going on.

Anyway, I need to get out of bed... wait...

"Eh?"

My body... is small?

These pajamas—are they for a grade schooler?

My viewpoint is low. Did I shrink?

I look around... I know this place, but I don't. No—

The desk, the shelves, the Benesse poster... is this the apartment complex I lived in as a child?!

"Yo? Good morning. What's wrong? You're making weird noises."

"Mom!!?"

My mother, who should be in Japan, why is she here? Wait, her gray hair is gone... she's young!?

"What's wrong with you? You didn't oversleep, you know. Pull yourself together. Come on, breakfast is ready."

I don't understand.

"Oversleep... for what?"

".... Are you okay in the head? For elementary school, obviously. It's only Friday. Are you still half-asleep?"

...Elementary... school?

An elementary schooler?

I ran into the washroom and looked in the mirror.

This is—me as an elementary schooler!?

"Mom, what grade... am I in?"

My mother looked at me with open suspicion now.

"...Alright, alright, go wash your face. Get changed properly. 4th Grade, Class 3, Yo Ishigami."

4th grade... 4th grade?

Did I... go back to the past...?

Was everything before just a dream?

—No. I have the memories.

Germany, the competitions, Mito... everything.

I returned to the room with the bed and changed into the clothes laid out for me.

I remember... these clothes. Yes.

These are the clothes Mom chose for me back then.

So, this is the room I shared with my brother when we were in elementary school.

I don't know what's going on... but when I looked at my futon—

There was something glowing by my pillow.

Eh?

—A book?

It was floating in mid-air, emitting a yellow light.

It pulsed faintly, in rhythm with my breathing.

(Eh? Eh...? W-What is this? Something so... fantasy-like!?)

—Is it calling me?

Calling my name not with a voice, but with a "sound."

Every time the book exhaled light, a sound rang deep in my chest.

Fearfully, I picked it up.

There was no pain, no ominous feeling.

It was neither cold nor hot.

Just—a sensation like a heartbeat being transmitted to my hand.

There were words on the cover.

"The Tome of Distorted Fate"

"What is this...?"

I turned the thick cover.

Words floated up as if scorched into the page.

"A distortion created by defying fate and directly affecting a human lifespan shall return to the user."

—In that moment, something "resonated."

"Defying... fate..."

A shiver ran down my spine.

It felt as if this book was speaking directly to me.

"Yo! Are you dressed? Come eat your breakfast already!"

"Ah... yeah, sorry, I'm coming."

I hid the suspicious book under my futon and headed to the living room.

* * *

After coming home from elementary school.

I took that book out from under my futon again.

It was still floating, glowing yellow.

Elementary school was just as it used to be. Or rather, it was the past itself.

Classmates whose names I had forgotten were all there. The teachers, too.

Math, Japanese... I took the classes while remembering, "Did we do this? Yeah, we did."

The only difference was the 48 years of memories inside me.

Even on the way home, while swinging the white bag for lunch duty, I thought about those words.

"A distortion created by defying fate and directly affecting a human lifespan shall return to the user."

(Can I... defy fate?)

Just to test it, I asked my mom.

"Mom... is the pain from your rheumatism okay?"

My mom's hands, folding laundry, stopped. She looked at me with suspicion again.

"...Rheumatism? Have you been watching too much TV? I don't hurt anywhere, you know? Ah, my shoulders are stiff, though. Will you massage them?"

"Yeah, sure," I said, going over to massage her shoulders while I thought.

(Just as I thought, Mom hasn't developed rheumatism yet. It's something that happens in the future. That's why she has no gray hair...

If I can 'defy fate,' then I can change what's going to happen—and 'people's fates' too?)

"...Wait!?"

I ran back to my room and threw open a new notebook on my desk.

(Today is April 24, 2018. Mito's... if I remember correctly, that day was... remember the newspaper article...)

The tip of my pencil trembled.

In the notebook, I wrote:

"April 12, 2020, 14:31. Hit-and-run accident at Higashi-Okazaki Station intersection. Mito, right femur damage."

"—Alright."

This situation makes no sense.

But this is a chance.

It's worth trying.

No matter what happens to my lifespan.

I opened the book, glowing yellow once more, read the sentence, and exhaled deeply.

"A distortion created by defying fate and directly affecting a human lifespan shall return to the user."

So what if it costs me my lifespan?

So what if it's fate?

I will play it again.

—The continuation of that day.