Your Name

I can't go any higher on the bike.

No sooner have I had the thought than the front wheel catches on a root, and I slip.

On reflex, I grab the trunk of a nearby tree. The bike slips out from under me and tumbles down the slope, hitting the ground about ten feet below with a huge racket. The wheels are bent all out of shape. "Sorry, Teshigawara," I mutter softly, and I take off running up the narrow mountain track.

Why did I forget? Why didn't I remember until just now?

As I run, I stare at the memories welling up inside me.

Mitsuha, that day, three years ago, you came to see me—

——————

Taki. Taki, Taki.

For a while now, Mitsuha has been silently rolling my name around on her tongue. I haven't noticed her at all, even though I'm front of her. She keeps fretting over what tone she should use to address me and what expression she should wear, so earnestly she seems liable to burst into tears. Then, forcing a bright smile, she says:

"Taki."

The middle school me is startled hearing my name out of the blue and I glance up. We're still about the same height, so her big, vaguely teary eyes are right in front of me.

"Huh....?"

"Um, do you..."

Smiling desperately, Mitsuha points to herself. I'm bewildered.

"...Huh?"

"Don't you remember me?" asks this stranger, timidly, lookin at me through her lashes.

"Who're you?"

Mitsuha gives a small, breathy shriek, then quickly turns red. She lowers her eyes, speaking in a voice that's barely audible.

"Oh... I'm sorry..."

The train sways. The passengers all adjust to keep their balance, except for Mitsuha, who staggers into me. Her hair brushes the tip of my nose, and I catch the faint scent of shampoo. "I'm sorry," she mumbles again.

Weird girl, thinks middle school me.

Mitsuha's muddled mind races desperately. But you're Taki, so why…? For both of us, time passes awkwardly.

"The next station is... Yotsuya." The announcement offers Mitsuha a bit of relief. At the same time, though, she feels unbearably sad. Still, she can't stay here any longer. The doors open, and she moves with the rest of the crowd to exit the train.

Watching her receding back, I suddenly think, Maybe this weird girl is somebody I should know. This inexplicable, intense impulse drives me to call out.

"Scuse me! What's your name?"

Mitsuha turns back, but the waves of disembarking passengers push her farther away. Hurriedly, she undoes the braided cord tying back her hair. She holds it out to me and shouts:

"Mitsuha!"

Without thinking. I reach for it. It's a vivid orange, like a thin ray of evening sun in the dim train. I shove my way into the crowd and grab that colour tight.

"My name is Mitsuha!"

——————

That day, three years ago, you came to see me.

Finally, I know.

A girl I didn't recognize spoke to me on the train once. To me, that was all it'd been, and I completely forgot about it. But Mitsuha had come to Tokyo carrying the weight of all those feelings, had been hurt badly, gone back to her own town, and cut her hair.

There's a lump in my throat. Still, there's nothing I can do about it now, so I just keep running, hell for leather. My (Mitsuha's) face and body are smeared with sweat and dirt. The next thing I know, the trees have ended, and I'm in a rocky, mossy area, with clouds like a golden carpet below me.

I've finally reached the peak.

I suck in a huge c.h.e.s.tful of cold air. Then, as if I'm expelling all my emotions from the pit of my stomach, I yell at the top of my lungs.

"Mitsuhaaaa!"

——————

I hear a voice.

I lift my head. I stand, looking around.

I'm up on the rocky area surrounding the body of the god's basin. The evening sun is almost gone, and all the shadows are stretched and elongated. The world is divided sharply into light and darkness, but there's no one around.

"Taki?" I murmur.

I draw in a deep breath of cold air. Then I shout, using Taki's throat:

"Takiii!"