According to her younger sister, Yotsuba, her opinions on Mitsuha's two best friends couldn't be more different.
"Just because someone is older doesn't mean they should act all high and mighty. Sayaka is a kind-hearted, adorable girl."
But every time Yotsuba heard Teshigawara's name, she would make a face of disapproval, as if she couldn't understand why a good girl like Sayaka would associate with someone like him.
Where does a grade-schooler even get such a strong worldview?
Maybe it's that same innocence that allowed Sayaka and Yotsuba to become friends.
After all, Yotsuba barely respects her own sister.
'Idiot older sister.' Yotsuba never said it out loud, but Mitsuha knew exactly what kind of image she had in her sister's mind.
Wait, didn't Yotsuba say something this morning? Something about Kyousuke? Did that raise her status in her sister's eyes? Though... that might have already gone back down.
Honestly, Kyousuke would probably make a better shrine maiden—and a better older sibling—than her.
Shaking off the thought, Mitsuha turned her attention back to Sayaka, whose face was growing paler by the second as Teshigawara continued to tease her.
"Alright, Teshi, stop scaring her."
"What? So it's not true?" Sayaka grabbed Mitsuha's arm, looking genuinely worried.
"Of course not. He's just messing with you."
Mitsuha sighed. Sometimes, having an overly naive friend was a blessing and a curse.
"Agh!"
Now back to her senses, Natori Sayaka turned and launched a flurry of playful punches at Teshigawara, who only grinned mischievously.
"But still, do you think Shunya really got that scared of you, Mitsuha?" Teshigawara asked while dodging Sayaka's weak attacks.
"Scared of me?" Mitsuha muttered, pulling out her notebook and flipping through it again.
He wrote everything down so meticulously…
Compared to her own casual food critiques, Mitsuha suddenly felt a little embarrassed.
But still, would just a few words really be enough to terrify a guy to the point of completely changing?
She voiced her thoughts aloud.
"Listen up," Teshigawara whispered, beckoning the two girls closer.
Once they leaned in, he spoke in a hushed, conspiratorial tone.
"I heard that Shunya dreams of becoming a painter."
"Ah, so he was devastated by Mitsuha's artistic skills!" Sayaka whispered back.
My artistic skills? Mitsuha thought, recalling the crude doodles she had seen on Kyousuke's desk.
Could something like that really crush Shunya's confidence? Just how bad is his drawing? And he wants to be a painter?
Still, if Sayaka thinks there's something odd about this, there must be more to it.
Determined, Mitsuha reached into her desk. According to Kyousuke's notes, he had stored his artwork from art class in the desk drawer.
"Mitsuha, why are you taking that out?"
"Just checking something."
Could it be that those doodles weren't Kyousuke's? But as soon as Mitsuha laid eyes on the actual artwork, she froze.
The sketch was stunning—something she could never hope to replicate.
"Still, even if that's the case, would it really cause such a drastic change? Did you guys notice? He's not even wearing his rubber bracelet anymore!" Sayaka exclaimed, having spotted a key detail.
"Oh yeah!" Mitsuha nodded rapidly.
"He used to say it was a gift from his cousin in Tokyo, right? He cherished it so much that he only ever gave two away—to Minami Manaka and one other person."
"Heh, well, that leads to my next revelation!"
"Hurry up! Stop dragging it out!" Sayaka huffed, struggling to stay hunched over.
"Geez, you tomboy." Teshigawara shot back before finally getting to the point.
"Like I said this morning, my old man went to a gathering last night. When he came back, besides talking about Mitsuha becoming a proper shrine maiden, he also gave me a stern warning."
"Warning about what?" Sayaka asked eagerly.
"He said: 'Katsuhiko, that Yamaaka kid has officially devoted himself to the Miyamizu Shrine. You better not let him get ahead of you.'"
"Wait, what?! He formally devoted himself to the shrine?!" Sayaka gasped, her voice a little too loud.
The three of them immediately turned to look at Shunya, who had clearly heard them.
He turned towards them with a bright, knowing smile.
"We're screwed," Sayaka muttered, lowering her head in embarrassment. She was the only one caught red-handed gossiping, even though the other two were just as guilty.
The thing is, when Teshigawara said "devotion," he didn't mean just placing a shrine ornament at home and forgetting about it.
That kind of shallow belief was common in their town. No, for his father to mention it specifically, Yamaaka Shunya must have become a genuine, devout believer.
"Do people our age even take religion that seriously anymore?" Sayaka mumbled hesitantly, sneaking a glance at Mitsuha.
"Besides the older generations, I doubt it. I've never seen young people coming to pray." Mitsuha wasn't particularly surprised.
Shrines, even the grand ones, were losing their influence.
Ironically, in this small rural town, their Miyamizu Shrine probably commanded more respect than some major shrines.
Both girls turned to Teshigawara, waiting for more details.
"That's it," he said with a shrug, rubbing his shaved head sheepishly.
With the secret talk over, the three of them straightened up. Teshigawara and Sayaka resumed their usual banter, while Mitsuha reflected on the bizarre events of the morning.
Her grandmother acting strange, neighbors suddenly showing respect, Yamaaka Shunya's complete transformation—there was only one possible cause.
'Kyousuke! Just what have you done to my life?!'
Being respected sure felt nice. Fulfilling her dream of becoming a proper shrine maiden was satisfying. But Mitsuha knew full well—she hadn't achieved this herself. Someone else had.
Could she really live up to everyone's expectations?
Like it or not, it was Kyousuke, not her, who had made all this happen.
Maybe, to the people around her, the always serious, perfectly-groomed girl she worked so hard to be… was nothing more than a fake shrine maiden.
Mitsuha laid out Kyousuke's drawings on her desk, running her fingers lightly over them.
'They were incredible…'
She flipped to the next page.
'…What the hell is this?' It was a rough sketch of Attack on Titan—far too ahead of its time. The sheer artistry stunned her.
'So in the end, he's still the same guy who sucks at writing and drawing, huh? Well, next time we switch bodies, I'll lend him a hand.'
'And maybe… I'll teach his underlings a thing or two.'
'That's right—I'm not completely useless either.'
Mitsuha smiled to herself, but as she thought about it more, her mood gradually sank.
———————————————————————
That night, at the Teshigawara family estate…
To celebrate the success of the election campaign speech, Miyamizu Toshiki and his close supporter, Teshigawara Katsuhiko's father, Teshigawara Ichiro, were holding a banquet.
"Come on, President, have another drink!"
Miyamizu Toshiki, his jet-black hair slicked back neatly, raised his glass with a broad smile. His face was already flushed red from drinking.
"We've secured the votes in the Kakunyu district. If we win the Sakegami ward, your reelection is as good as guaranteed."
Teshigawara Ichiro, equally red-faced, clinked his glass with Toshiki's. His victory meant a steady stream of business for Ichiro's company.
"It's all thanks to you, President! Come on, let's drink more!"
Miyamizu Toshiki downed his drink in one swift motion, not letting it linger in his mouth for even a second.
Alcohol… it really tasted awful.
His thin cheeks twitched slightly—whether from the burn of the liquor or something else, he wasn't sure.
"Haha! We'll keep pushing forward with the campaign and take the remaining districts in one go!"
Thinking about the financial prospects ahead, Teshigawara Ichiro beamed with excitement, downing his own drink just as quickly.
Unlike Miyamizu Toshiki, however, he savored the taste, rolling the liquor around on his tongue.
"So, how's it going with that girl?"
The young men from Teshigawara Construction chattered enthusiastically beside them.
Election speeches weren't something one or two people could handle alone. The more people involved, the stronger the impression of power.
That was why Teshigawara Construction always sent a large number of workers to support Miyamizu Toshiki's campaign, making him appear more formidable.
"Oh, right—Mitsuha, that girl… No, I suppose now we should call her Mitsuha-san. My old man told me last night that she has officially inherited the shrine and become a priestess, just like Lady Futaba…"
The words of his drunken business partner faded into a blur.
The moment he heard "Mitsuha-san" and "become a priestess like Futaba-sama," it was as if his consciousness had been swallowed into a black void.
His hands and feet went cold. His grip loosened, and his cup slipped onto the table with a dull thud. The voices around him grew distant, muffled, as if he were submerged underwater.
"This is not a final farewell." That was what Futaba had said in her last moments, a message passed on to him through the nurse.
Now, in the darkness of his mind, he saw a single cord twisting, intertwining, knotting together—yet never breaking. It only looped endlessly, repeating over and over.
Like an inescapable fate.
'Mitsuha… would she end up like Futaba?'
A wave of suffocating dread crashed over him. His chest tightened, his breath became shallow.
The overwhelming terror jolted Miyamizu Toshiki back to reality. His vision refocused, and he saw Kawahara Ichiro waving a hand in front of his face.
"Haha, looks like I've had too much to drink. I can't compete with your tolerance, President," he forced out, though the fear still clawed at his insides.
But no—he couldn't let himself waver. He had already decided. He would challenge the gods, destroy this ignorant place.
Fate? Gods?
Miyamizu Toshiki would destroy them all.
The foolish beliefs, the foolish town, the Miyamizu Shrine that had created all this tragedy—
It had taken Futaba's life.
And now, it wanted Mitsuha and Yotsuba too.
None of it deserved to exist.
His alcohol-clouded mind snapped into clarity under the sheer force of his conviction.
After leaving the gathering, Toshiki didn't return to his rented apartment. Instead, he headed straight to the town hall and called for his secretary.
Ironically, his secretary was one of the higher-ranked members of the Miyamizu Shrine's congregation.
It was almost laughable—he, who wished to destroy everything connected to the shrine, constantly relied on his name, "Miyamizu," to exert influence in Itomori.
His biggest supporters were the shrine's donors. His most well-informed aide was a devoted follower.
Even his voters—how many of them had cast their ballots for him simply because of his surname?
And yet, the more he exploited this name, the more his rage burned inside him.
Because of their blind faith, Futaba had died.
Because of their blind faith, Mitsuha and Yotsuba were trapped.
While waiting for his secretary, Toshiki leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes.
His mind was overflowing with questions.
Why did Teshigawara Ichiro's father say Mitsuha had truly inherited the shrine?
Mitsuha had never shown any extraordinary talent like Futaba. She had always been ordinary—why was she suddenly being praised so highly?
Why…?
One question after another pounded against his already alcohol-weary mind.
'Click.'
The office door opened.
"Mayor, why are you sitting in the dark?"
The secretary flipped the light switch, instantly flooding the room with brightness.
The artificial glow momentarily pushed back the darkness within Toshiki's heart.
He didn't open his eyes right away, letting himself adjust to the light before sitting up straight and fixing his sharp gaze on his secretary.
"Report everything you've learned." His voice was calm and commanding, betraying no sign of the chaos within.
"Yes, sir. My father attended the gathering last night, and at the meeting…"
As the secretary spoke, Toshiki finally grasped the situation.
Absurd.
A girl throwing a small tantrum—so what? If anything, he was relieved. Mitsuha had always been so obedient it was almost unnatural. Seeing her express frustration was a good thing.
Suddenly becoming talented at painting—so what? She was Futaba's daughter; of course, she'd have some artistic gift.
Well, maybe not too much talent. She didn't need to be extraordinary. She just needed to be safe.
"I understand the situation now. Sorry for calling you in so late," Toshiki said, rising from his chair with a polite smile.
"Not at all, sir. Serving you is my duty. And besides, hearing that Mitsuha-san is following in Futaba-sama footsteps makes me truly happy. My father wouldn't stop talking about it last night—he was still hungover this afternoon! Hahaha."
The secretary's face was filled with genuine joy. There wasn't a trace of resentment about being called in late at night.
He truly believed the arrival of a new priestess for the Miyamizu Shrine was a blessing.
"Haha, make sure your father takes care of his health," Miyamizu Toshiki replied, smiling as well.
But his eyes were cold.
"Following in Futaba's footsteps"?
Did they mean for Mitsuha to become the vessel of their so-called god?
To suffer, to die on a hospital bed just like Futaba?
After dismissing his secretary, Toshiki left the town hall on his bicycle.
As he rode down the road, the cool night air carried the scent of Lake Itomori.
The scattered houses looked like jagged teeth. The dense forest in the distance resembled a lurking beast, ready to devour. And the lake's silver shimmer was nothing more than a trap in disguise.
To others, this mountain town was a beautiful sight.
To him, it was repulsive.
Because this town had taken the woman he loved.
His apartment stood at the very edge of town, across the lake from Miyamizu Shrine—a steel-and-concrete building.
Anything made of wood reminded him of the shrine.
Reminded him of the happiness he had once shared with Futaba in that place.
And the pain that followed.
That was why he actively supported Teshigawara Construction—not just because their power was crucial for his election, but because he wanted those ancient buildings gone.
The moment he got home, he barely had time to take off his shoes before a wave of nausea hit him.
He rushed to the bathroom.
Turning on the faucet, he washed his hands, rinsed his mouth, and stared at his reflection in the mirror.
A weary, tormented man looked back at him.
Toshiki told himself—
He would not let Mitsuha suffer the same fate.
———————————————————————
The next morning.
Wednesday.
Hida City, Itomori Town, Miyamizu Shrine.
Although the body belonged to Miyamizu Mitsuha…
The one in control was Hojou Kyousuke.
"Well, since it's mine to use right now, you can't complain about what I do with it!"
With that, Kyousuke pressed down forcefully.
Unknown raspberries were crushed into pulp under the rolling pin. Kyousuke then added another fruit—one whose name he couldn't recall—to the mortar and continued grinding it into a thick paste.
That was one of the perks of living in a mountain town:
Except for winter, there was an endless supply of fresh fruit all year round.
He didn't even need to go foraging himself—villagers who ventured into the forest for various reasons would regularly bring generous offerings of wild fruit to the Miyamizu Shrine.
When Kyousuke woke up that morning, he suddenly remembered that during his last body swap, he had promised Mitsuha little sister, Yotsuba, that he would make her ice cream.
So, he hurriedly finished preparing breakfast and immediately got to work.
At first, he considered making his signature yam ice cream, but then Sakura's warning echoed in his mind:
"You can only make that for me! If you don't... hmmph!"
Recalling the ominous gesture Sakura had made with her hands, Kyousuke shuddered and quickly abandoned the idea.
Thankfully, the shrine's kitchen was stocked with a vast assortment of wild berries, sparking a new idea.
After taste-testing them one by one, he picked the ones that complemented each other best.
He washed, peeled, and diced them before asking Yotsuba to fetch the long-neglected mortar and pestle.
He strained out the pulp, leaving only the smooth puree, then folded in some soft fruit chunks for texture before placing everything in the fridge to freeze.
"Nee-chan, is this really gonna turn into delicious ice cream?"
Yotsuba's eyes remained locked onto the plastic container inside the fridge, even after the door had fully closed. Then she turned to Kyousuke, full of anticipation.
"Yep. After your bath tonight, it'll be ready. But you can't eat too much—it's still a bit chilly for ice cream," he cautioned.
Stretching his arms, Kyousuke groaned. 'Mitsuha's body isn't built for physical labor.'
However, its flexibility was amazing—probably thanks to years of sacred dance practice.
Some movements that required rigorous training in his own body were effortless in Mitsuha's.
"Alright, time to braid your hair," he announced, clapping his hands.
"But Nee-chan, didn't you say braiding hair too often could make me go bald?" Yotsuba asked skeptically.
"That can happen, sure, but moderate stimulation actually promotes hair growth. Think about it—when a cow has trouble giving birth, doesn't a vet have to help pull the calf out?"
Kyousuke would never admit that his hands were itching to test out new braiding techniques—but he wasn't about to experiment on Mitsuha's hair.
Judging from Sayaka and Teshi's reactions, Mitsuha must be the type to take extreme care of her hair.
Better to use Yotsuba as a test subject first.
"How is that even the same thing?!" Yotsuba muttered, frowning as she obediently sat on the stool in front of her sister.
Braiding… it was just splitting the hair into three sections and weaving them together, right?
Miyamizu Hitoha, who had been quietly sipping tea after breakfast, glanced at her granddaughter Mitsuha, who was clumsily tangling Yotsuba's hair into an unholy mess.
She chuckled, her eyes crinkling with amusement.
"Ahh! Nee-chan, what is this?!"
From the moment she felt the uneven tugging on her scalp, Yotsuba had sensed impending doom. But her sister kept reassuring her and even hid the mirror to prevent her from looking.
Now that it was finally done, she pulled a small mirror from her backpack—only to see two indescribable, abominable lumps of hair atop her head.
Kyousuke let out a dry chuckle, making no attempt to stop Yotsuba from immediately undoing his hard work.
"I'm heading out."
With that, the little morning fiasco came to an end. Yotsuba decided to forgive her dumb sister for now—after all, she had made her ice cream.
'But if it doesn't taste good tonight…!'
On the way to school, Kyousuke met up with Sayaka and Teshi, and the three of them walked together.
As soon as they reached the school gates, Kyousuke spotted Minami Manaka standing there, clutching the arm of a burly, thickset man.
She was glaring at him, brimming with hostility.
'Huh? What kind of scene was this supposed to be?'