The Time Traveler of Kyoto: A Century-Old Bond Sleeping in the Ancient Capital - The sound of rain and light—The first time travel

My right hand hurts a little. After stepping off the 87th stone step, Yui caught her breath. The autumn morning air spread through her lungs. The scent of cedar and damp moss. Every time she came to Kagura Mori Shrine, every time she breathed this air, she felt inexplicably at ease. It was a sensation that hadn't changed since childhood. The cedar trees lining both sides of the stone steps were all over 300 years old. Their trunks were thick, and when you looked up, the sky was barely visible. Moss grew at their roots, and morning dew glimmered there. Tachibana Yui was twenty years old. She wore her black hair straight to her shoulders and had soft amber-colored eyes. At 160 centimeters tall, she had a slender build. Right now she was dressed in a white shrine maiden outfit with a red hakama, and a small silver pendant gleamed at her neck. It was something she'd inherited from her grandmother. She couldn't feel settled unless she wore it at all times. University classes started at 8:30, and it was now 7:15. "I'll make it," she whispered to herself, stepping into the shrine grounds. She purified her hands at the water basin. The water was cold. Autumn seemed to be deepening this year—the water temperature had dropped considerably. She flicked her wet hands dry and headed toward the main hall. First came the morning sweeping. She took out a bamboo broom from the storage shed and began sweeping the grounds. It was the season when fallen leaves accumulated. The rustling sound echoed across the shrine. A bird called in the distance. (Shrine maiden part-time job: 80,000 yen a month.) The thought crossed her mind. From an outsider's perspective, it was certainly just a part-time job. But for Yui, it meant more than that. This shrine had been standing for 800 years. The shrine was built here during the Kamakura period, and the Tachibana family had protected it ever since. Working here as someone carrying the blood of the Tachibana family felt natural to her. Not an obligation, not pressure. Just the sense that this was her place. After finishing the sweeping, she met her father when she entered the administrative office. Tachibana Sousuke was fifty-eight years old and the shrine's chief priest. He had a sturdy build and black hair streaked with white, neatly combed back. His eyes resembled Yui's—the same amber color. He was a calm person, but with a firm core. "Good morning. Did you finish your report?" " The shrine's work comes first." Her father smiled wryly. "...Well, I suppose so." With that, he took his tea and retreated to the back. It was typical of him not to press further. After that, she attended to the worshippers. Only a few people came on a weekday morning. She handed out amulets and dealt with stamp requests. It was routine work. Around 10 o'clock she went to university, and returned again in the evening. To be honest, she'd only absorbed about half of the lectures. It wasn't that she was worried about the approaching report deadline. She'd been thinking about the shrine's work today. The October festival was coming up soon, and preparations still weren't finished. In the evening, she went up to the waiting room on the second floor of the administrative office. It was a small six-mat room with shelves crammed full of the shrine's record books. It smelled of old paper. Thinking she should organize it, she began pulling things out from the shelves. That's when a single booklet came out. It had a different feel from the other record books. The cover had a pattern, and the paper was thin. When she picked it up, the writing inside was in beautiful calligraphy. Flowing, delicate characters. (This is...) A diary. She realized it immediately. And this handwriting... She turned the pages. There was a date at the beginning. Taisho 13, it said. A hundred years ago. Yui's hand stopped. It was her grandmother's diary—Tachibana Chiyo's diary. The handwriting was the same as what she'd seen in photographs. She wondered for a moment if she should be reading it, but her hand wouldn't stop. She told herself it was part of organizing the shrine, and slowly turned the pages. It described Kyoto during the Taisho period. Stories about streetcars, gas lamps, seasonal festivals. The writing style was polite, and as she read, the landscape of Kyoto from a hundred years ago vaguely came into view. There was a clang. The door opened, and her father came in carrying a tray. "I brought some tea. ...Reading Grandmother Chiyo's diary again?" He placed the tea cup on the edge of the shelf with a nostalgic expression. " Your love of history probably comes from reading Grandmother Chiyo's diary." "Maybe so." Yui answered honestly. When she was small, her father had told her about this diary, and she'd read it many times since she was learning to read. She hadn't been able to read it well, but she'd read it over and over anyway. Chiyo had already passed away, long before Yui was born. So she'd never met her directly. But through the diary, she felt somehow close to her. "What kind of person was Grandmother Chiyo?" "I never met her either." Her father said that and looked off into the distance for a moment. "I've heard she was a strong-willed person. She came from a noble family, but apparently she wasn't stuffy about it." Thinking that over, Yui continued turning pages. Then, as she reached the latter half, her hand stopped. Pages were missing. They'd been torn out. Carefully, one by one. The traces of being ripped remained, with only the edges left. Five or six pages had been removed. "...What did Grandmother write here?" She whispered it to herself. "Who knows. I don't know either." Her father shook his head. He really didn't seem to know. She was silent for a while, tracing the torn edges with her finger. The paper edge was slightly rough. "Speaking of which, you..." Her father sighed. " If you put even half as much focus on that diary into your university report, you'd be fine." Yui looked up. "...That hits home." She said it with a wry smile, and her father laughed a little too. "Well, take your time reading it. Dinner will be at seven." Her father left the room. She took a sip of tea. It had cooled a bit. Yui put the diary back on the shelf and looked out the window. The ridgeline of Higashiyama was dyed red by the sunset. The black silhouette of Himuro Mountain floated against the sky. (What was she writing?) The question still lingered in the corner of her mind. 　 Night fell, and rain began to fall. At first it was a gentle patter. But by the time dinner ended, it had become a proper downpour, and around 8 o'clock, thunder started rumbling. The worshippers had long since gone home. No one was in the shrine grounds. "I'm going to lock up the main hall." She told her father, who replied, "Be careful." She put on rain gear, opened an umbrella, and stepped outside. The smell of rain. That distinctive scent of wet earth. The cedar trees in the grounds swayed, and thunder rumbled distantly. The stone lanterns in the grounds glowed orange, and raindrops reflected in their light, sparkling. There was a path from the administrative office that led directly to the side of the main hall, so she didn't have to use the 87 stone steps. Yui took that route. The ground was wet, and her sandals threatened to slip. She arrived at the main hall's entrance. She opened one of the heavy wooden doors just partway and checked inside. When she flipped the light switch, the interior of the main hall was illuminated. There was a partition separating it from the worship hall, and beyond that, the sacred object was enshrined. It was an area normally off-limits to everyone except her father, the chief priest. She stepped in front of the door to check if it was locked. That's when it happened. (... What?) Light was leaking from the gap in the door. Not from the electric light. A pale blue, cold-feeling light. It was spreading slowly, seeping outward. She slowly opened the door a bit more. Light was coming from the back of the main hall—from where the sacred object was placed. The Musubi Mirror, as it was called. An ancient bronze mirror about 60 centimeters in diameter with a greenish patina on its surface. Spiral patterns were carved on the back, and her father had told her, "It's a mirror of unknown origin, and we don't even know why it was originally enshrined here." That mirror was glowing. Pale blue light slowly leaked from the mirror's surface, spreading through the main hall. "W-what... is this?" The words came out. Her throat was dry. She tried to back away, but her feet wouldn't move properly. It was scary. She knew she should run, but her feet felt glued to the floor. The light was growing slowly. It wasn't just the mirror's surface—the air around it began to glow too. A pale blue mass of light slowly, but steadily, spread toward Yui. (I have to run, I have to run, but my feet won't...) She put all her strength into her body. But her feet wouldn't move. It was like someone was pressing both her feet to the floor. The light engulfed her entire body. The sound of thunder grew distant. The sound of rain faded away. Yui's vision turned pure white. 　 When she came to, she was in the same place. ...But it was different. She was inside the main hall. That much was the same. But there were no electric lights. Only the flickering glow of candles. The smell of wood. A thick, vivid smell of wood. (What...?) With trembling hands, she touched her own arm. It was there. This wasn't a dream. The sound of rain. But no thunder. She heard something from outside the window. The sound of horse hooves. Human voices. Voices she'd never heard before, with an old-fashioned quality. She slowly walked toward the main hall's door. Her legs were shaking. But she could walk. She put her hand on the door and slowly pushed it open. Outside air flowed in. When she saw the sight before her, her mind went blank. A stone-paved approach. On both sides, swaying orange lights—gas lamps. Below the approach, she could see figures. People in Japanese clothing walked past. Men wore kimono and hakama, women wore furisode or kimono. Some wore Western clothes, but they were completely different styles from modern ones. This wasn't modern-day Kyoto. "W-what... where is this...?" Her voice trembled. Her mind was spinning. A dream? But it was all too vivid for a dream. The smell of rain, the feel of the wet stone pavement, the flickering light of the gas lamps—everything was real. "...You." A voice called out. From the right. She turned around. A young girl, perhaps seventeen or eighteen, stood there. She wore a light blue kimono, had pale skin and dark eyes. Even in the rain, her posture was composed and undisturbed. The moment Yui saw her face, her breath caught. (I know this face...) She did. In the administrative office, on a shelf, there was an old photograph. A picture of her grandmother, Chiyo, taken when she was young. Yui had seen it many times. The exact same face stood before her now. The girl—Chiyo—smiled gently. As if she'd been waiting here all along. " You... you really came." There was no time to process the meaning of those words. Something snapped in her head. A violent dizziness struck her entire body. Her feet wavered, and her vision spun. Chiyo's face receded into the distance. The stone pavement and gas lamp light dissolved into white. "Wait—" She didn't know if her voice even came out. 　 She was lying on the floor of the main hall. Her cheek was cold against the wooden floorboards. The sound of rain. The light of electric lamps. Her smartphone was in her jacket pocket. This was the present day. "...It wasn't a dream." She said it to no one in particular, to herself. "It definitely wasn't a dream." She said it again. Her voice trembled slightly. Her body felt heavy. Like she had

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Episode 1

Name: The Time Traveler of Kyoto: A Century-Old Bond Sleeping in the Ancient Capital
Author: Novelia

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