The classroom after school was wrapped in silence. Shota Sato stretched widely as he gathered his belongings beside the teacher's desk. A satisfying crack echoed from his shoulder blades, and a pleasant fatigue filled his body. Today they'd done long-distance running in PE class. He wasn't particularly fast, but he didn't mind running at his own pace. Beyond the window, the cityscape spreading past the school building was dyed in pale sunset colors. Autumn was deepening—the sun was setting much earlier these days. Shota rested his elbow on the windowsill and gazed blankly at the scenery. With his deep brown eyes, he traced the small flow of people heading home. Around that corner was the station. He'd probably head home in about thirty minutes too. Just another ordinary day. That's when it happened. Zaa—— It wasn't a sound. It was a sensation. The air in the classroom wavered for just an instant. Shota's gaze snapped back. In the center of the classroom, between his desk and the blackboard, a pale light was rising. A pillar of light—if you had to describe it that way. But it wasn't sunlight, nor the classroom's fluorescent lamps. The light twisted and warped as if melting the space itself. Shota's breath stopped. No panic came. What came instead was pure curiosity. "Huh? What is this?" Muttering, Shota stood up. He tossed his bag aside and rounded his desk, moving toward the light. A rational person would have backed away in this situation. They would have sensed danger. But Shota was different. As he stared at the light, emotions welled up inside him one after another—fear, anxiety, but above all, the desire to know. "What the hell is this? What's happening?" The light pulsed like breathing, flickering rhythmically. Drawn by that pulsation, Shota drew closer. Eventually, he reached out his arm. The moment he tried to touch the surface of the light—— His consciousness cut out. Zaaaa—— White light consumed everything. What touched his skin was something soft. Grass. Shota drew in a sharp breath. He forced his heavy eyelids open. His head was spinning. It was dark around him. No, that wasn't right. There was light. But it wasn't light he recognized. Shota pushed himself up on his elbows. His breathing was shallow and rapid. His heart was pounding. "What? Where... where is this?" He looked up at the sky. Two moons floated there. One was a pale azure, casting quiet light. The other was deep crimson, appearing slightly smaller than the blue moon. Both moons hung in the night sky simultaneously. Shota held his breath. Was it fake? A trick of the light? Or someone's cruel prank? Scanning his surroundings, an endless plain stretched out. The crumpled grass reached up to his waist, its tips glowing a faint pale blue. Night dew, perhaps, or something else entirely. That luminescence served as nighttime illumination. "Huh?" Shota froze. No matter how hard he tried to focus, his head wouldn't clear. But one thing was certain: this wasn't the world he knew. Shota reached into his pocket. His smartphone was there. He pulled it out. The screen lit up. The time was 6:47 PM. Battery: 37%. He tried to open the map app. But the display in the top right corner showed only despair. Not just no signal—no GPS signal at all. Zero bars. A world where the very concept of "no signal" didn't apply. "Ah, you've got to be kidding me." Shota laughed bitterly. He opened the camera and pointed it at the sky, snapping a photo. The blue moon and red moon captured together. Two moons displayed on his screen. They were definitely there. Not fake—real moons. "...What the hell is this?" Shota muttered. Phone calls, GPS, communication—all worthless here. His smartphone was nothing but a flashlight. "Okay. Let me think this through." Shota began speaking aloud, confirming the situation. This optimism was a habit that would save him many times over in his future life. "Two moons. Glowing grass. No GPS. Phone battery at 37%. ...And 37% is completely useless." He spoke with self-deprecation. But Shota wasn't despairing. Strangely, he was calm. For second-year high school student Shota Sato, this situation was "abnormal," but not "the end." He stood up. He brushed the dirt from his knees. His eyes swept across the distance and found lights. A town or village—a place where humans lived. The direction was set. Shota took a step into the grass. That's when it happened. The grass at his feet rustled faintly. "Huh?" Shota went rigid. Was something there? A creature of this world—— It rolled out. A pure white ball of fluff. Nearly spherical in shape, about twenty centimeters in diameter. Its entire body was covered in extremely soft, fine fur. No eyes, no mouth, nothing visible. Yet it was undoubtedly alive. It was breathing. Its body rose and fell faintly. "What... what is this?" Shota reflexively scooped up the fluffy ball in both hands. It was softer than he'd expected. Like holding a lump of cotton. That's when it happened. Something stirred deep in his chest. All the emotions Shota had unconsciously suppressed until now surfaced at once. The despair of being transported to another world. The fear that he might never go home. The loneliness of having no one to help him. The anxiety that he might die in this vast plain. As these accumulated in his chest and began to take weight—— Warmth melted it all away. It wasn't gentle warmth, but a comprehensive sense of security. His chest didn't grow hot—rather, his heart, which had been frozen like ice, gradually softened. The fine vibration transmitted through his arms holding the fluff ball. Something resonating—— "What are you?" Shota couldn't move for a while. He simply held the fluff ball. Pressed it against his chest. That warmth felt unreal. Like a dream, yet undeniably present, something. "What the hell are you?" No one answered. The fluff ball said nothing. But that fine vibration was definitely communicating something to Shota. He didn't yet understand what. A few minutes later, Shota began walking again. Still holding the fluff ball. By embracing it, he felt something he could rely on. Or rather, he realized he was becoming dependent on it. But he couldn't bring himself to let go. He walked across the plain. The light from the grass tips illuminated his feet. Above, the blue moon and red moon cast their quiet light. Nothing else. A truly empty plain. Yet by holding the fluff ball, Shota didn't feel alone. "So, what kind of plans do you have?" Shota spoke to the fluff ball. There was no answer. But he continued. It was his way of accepting this strange situation. "I don't know where this is. I got swallowed by that light at school. And when I came to, there were two moons. Glowing grass. That kind of world. But you're here. That makes it a little better." The fluff ball's fine vibration continued. Shota took it as an affirmative response. Eventually, the distant lights drew closer. Building outlines became visible. A town. A place where humans lived. Shota quickened his pace, still holding the fluff ball. Under the lights, Shota saw his own face for the first time. In a mirror from his pocket. His black short hair was dirty with soil. His white shirt too. There was a scrape on his left cheek. But what caught his eye most was the strange gleam in those deep brown eyes. Not fear or despair, but strangely, a light pushing forward. Soon, the town gate came into view. The way station town of Haze. Wooden buildings lined up, illuminated by lights. Signs of people. Merchants' voices. Animal cries. The smell of this world—earth, grass, and something else mixed together. Shota stopped before the gate. A gatekeeper stood there. A middle-aged man wearing a helmet and breastplate. He stared at Shota, his brow furrowing. "Please show me your spirit certification." The man's words were clear, understandable Japanese. But Shota had no idea what it meant. "Um, what's that?" "Spirit certification—a document officially certifying the strength and nature of your life force. To enter this town, you must undergo spirit measurement—an examination of your life force conducted by a specialized institution—and obtain that certification. If unidentified individuals could enter and exit freely, we couldn't maintain the town's safety." "Ah, I see. A certification document." Shota thought. If it was a certification... could it be that this world also required formal documentation to enter a town? Come to think of it, he wasn't from this world. He might have a problem without some kind of official certification. "Wait a moment." Shota pulled out his wallet from his pocket. Inside were several "certifications." His student ID. His My Number Card. His library card. And several point cards. One by one, Shota presented them to the gatekeeper. "Um, first, this proves I'm Japanese. This is my library membership card. And this card proves I have three hundred yen in points accumulated. I also have this supermarket card." The gatekeeper examined each thin plate made of unfamiliar material with a serious expression. His face gradually grew more confused. A long silence fell. "...What does this certify?" "Um, it's a supermarket point card." "I see. ...Very well. Please leave." The gatekeeper turned his back on Shota. Shota stood frozen. Holding the fluff ball, he finally began to grasp the gravity of his situation. The "common sense" of this world wasn't the same as what he knew. His student ID, his My Number Card, his supermarket point card—none of it had any value here. "Um, excuse me. Where can I obtain that spirit certification?" Shota called out to the gatekeeper. "At a traveler's mediation office—a facility that handles registration and support for travelers and adventurers—or at an academic institution. They'll conduct the measurement and issue you a certification." "Ah, I see. Thank you." Shota nodded. A traveler's mediation office. An academic institution. This world's systems. He understood the words. But standing outside this town's gate, he didn't even have the means to reach such a place. Shota sat down before the gate. He placed the fluff ball on his lap. The blue moon and red moon continued to cast their quiet light on the night sky. "Hey, do you have a name or something?" Shota spoke to the fluff ball. There was no answer. But its fine vibration continued. "Well, that's okay. Even without a name." Shota smiled wryly. He didn't yet realize that a truly new life was beginning from this point. But the preparations were already underway. Holding the fluff ball, Shota gazed up at the night sky. "It'll work out somehow. Probably." Whether those words were meant to encourage himself or the fluff ball, even Shota couldn't say at that moment.