Chapter 1 - Cast On
When Makoto opened his eyes, all he could see was the harsh sunlight streaming in through the window, and he closed them shut to protect them from any further assault.
There was no point in sleeping any longer. Besides his usual habit to remain awake regardless of the time, it was much too bright to even try. He stretched his hand out to the side, aiming to grab the phone from nearby to check exactly what time it was.
Except his hand found the floor before it found any sort of bedside table.
He sat up, rubbed at his eyes with his other hand, and looked around him. It didn't take long to realize why he could reach the floor from his bed—since the simple truth was that his futon was spread out on the floor. There wasn't a table next to him, it was behind him, pushed up against a wall of the small room. And there wasn't a phone near him. It was probably somewhere else in the room, plugged into a socket it could reach.
He'd thought it was near him though, right? He was pretty sure he remembered putting it there before falling asleep…
Before he could ponder it any longer, the door right next to him slammed open to reveal a little girl, no older than ten years old.
"Big Bro, wake—" Her shout broke off when she met Makoto's eyes. She continued after a moment, her voice surprised and softer, "Oh, you're already awake? You're not usually up this early…"
He simply stared at her for a long time. Eventually he opened his mouth to ask, "'Big Brother'?"
The girl's face instantly fell. "Never mind, you're still half-asleep. Come on, breakfast's ready!"
The door slid back shut and Makoto was left alone once again. He blinked slowly, trying to dismiss the drowsiness from his eyes. Perhaps he was still dreaming? The little girl didn't look familiar. And 'Big Brother'? "…Breakfast?"
He frowned and placed his hand on his throat. He'd noticed his voice was quite low and raspy the first time he spoke, but brushed it off as due to lack of use while he was asleep. Again, however, it had the same quality, despite his throat feeling clear and normal. How odd.
His frown deepened when he felt the skin of his hand touch the skin of his throat. Makoto stared down at his other hand, scrutinizing the palm and then flipping it over. Smooth skin was all he found—no blemishes or marks in sight. How very odd.
Spying a full-length mirror on the other side of the small room, he threw the blanket off of him and stepped off of the futon. He stopped in front of the mirror and took in his appearance—his sleepwear, his small stature, his disheveled hair and nonplussed expression.
Makoto blinked at his reflection.
"This… is extremely odd."
In a different bedroom, in a very different place, a high-pitched squeal escaped Kyoko as her hands flew off her chest, still covered in her clothes from yesterday.
"I have boobs?!"
My name is Kyoko Kirigiri.
I've always had a rather different perception of 'strange' to most people. It comes with the way I was raised. After all, when you've encountered more corpses by the time you're in middle school than a vendor sells ice-cream in summer, it takes a lot more effort to throw you off guard.
And yet, a recent experience of mine has redefined 'strange' for me.
Anyone would say the same if they were regularly switching bodies with a boy.
His name is Makoto Naegi. He's thirteen and still in middle school, which makes him two years younger than me. For reasons unclear to the both of us, there'll be days where we 'switch places'—he wakes up in my body in Tokyo, and I wake up in his in a rural village he calls home. It lasts for a day and we return to our normal bodies after we fall asleep. From the few times it's happened so far, it's hard to say whether there's a pattern in the 'when' or even if it'll stop. It's simply too soon to tell.
Whatever we do when switched is difficult to recall when we wake up. In fact, we spent the first two or three switches convinced they were dreams. But given how the people around us act, there's no mistaking it. And it goes without saying that we have no idea what the other does in our bodies when we switch. That's why we've taken to writing daily diaries, so that we know what occurs when we switch, and so the other knows what to expect when the next switch occurs.
I… can't say it's been easy. Learning about how he's been acting in my body around my colleagues and acquaintances is frustrating, especially when I can't defend myself for 'my' bizarre actions. But… then I recall the vague memories of having to act like Makoto, and his own polite-but-equally-frustrated diary notes, and I remember it's just as difficult for him.
We don't know when this will end. We don't even know how it even began. All we can do is support each other until this mess is over.
…
…
…
But I would eventually come to know how it all began. Or perhaps it is more accurate to say it was how it all ended. Regardless, our fates were tied from that single moment…
That moment… when a star fell from the sky.
Ayyy Maple back at it again with the fics you'll never finish!
This time I've got another AU for you! It's a Your Name (Kimi no Na wa) AU, which means I've got DR characters (with a special focus on a special couple) but I'll be wringing 'em through a Your Name inspired plot. If you can call it a plot. This is gonna be more a collection of body-swapping shenanigans and headcanons than plot stuff. But it'll likely involve plot stuff later that spoils/mirrors Your Name plot stuff. I'll try to put warnings on those chapters I guess.
Keep smiling, readers!
