The sun is already beginning to set by the time Mitsuha comes to her senses. Her tears have long since dried up, and her face aches from crying so much. She still can't believe it—that Taki, not her, died on that day three years ago. Well, to the world, Mitsuha Miyamizu was only a name now, the person wiped out by the fragment of Tiamat. The body switching already defied all logical reason, but for her to permanently trade consciousnesses with Taki is something she could have never imagined.

She slowly brushes some stray dirt and blades of grass off of her body as she stands up, squinting into the sun. She can't stay on this mountain and stew in her misery forever. There are people out there waiting for Taki Tachibana to come home. Okudera, Tsukasa, Takagi. . .people she would have never met, yet has grown impossibly close to over the short span of a single month.

Mitsuha looks back one more time at the sacred relic of Miyamizu Shrine. Taki surely left some belongings in there, things she'd likely need to make it back to Tokyo. Even now, however, her grandmother's words echo in the back of her mind.

"What lies ahead is the hereafter. It's the netherworld."

To return, she would have to leave behind what is most important to her. . . . A pang grips Mitsuha's heart as she idly thinks that she's already lost what was most important to her. Perhaps that was the price when Taki came to the shrine. Even so, she clambers down the primitive earthen steps and heads into the cavern.

It's a short walk to the heart of the shrine, where the sacred relic stands. Even now, Yotsuha's bottle of kuchikamizake stands faithfully by the shrine's side, long crusted over with moss. Her own, however, sits on the ground in front of the shrine, the seal broken and the bottle cap removed. So, Taki drank her kuchikamizake, huh? Any other time, she would have flushed crimson and called him a pervert, but now she views his actions more objectively. He didn't know how the sake in that bottle was made, though she's still a bit concerned that Taki's first thought was to drink from a bottle of mysterious alcohol.

The kuchikamizake. Now, thinking about the ritual hardly fazes Mitsuha. She'd give anything to go back to that carefree life, where her biggest worries were embarrassing herself in front of her classmates and wondering what mess Taki would get her into next.

Mitsuha contemplates angrily kicking the bottle aside, shattering the delicate ceramic and sending sake spraying all over the sacred relic. Sacrilege, yes, but Mitsuha feels no fondness towards the gods. She offered them a part of herself, and for what?

That's right. Her grandmother had said that the kuchikamizake was a part of her. And that by sharing it with others, a union would be formed. Musubi. Did Taki too remember those words? As quickly as it came, her fit of anger rapidly subsides. Instead, Mitsuha kneels in front of the relic and gingerly caps the bottle, her fingers running across bottle, feeling where Taki's own fingers broke the coat of moss.

But instead of replacing her bottle on the shrine, Mitsuha instead rearranges the items in Taki's bag to make room, carefully nestling the bottle amongst some spare clothes. Perhaps the gods would curse her for taking back her offering from all those years ago. But it seems as if they'd already cursed her, so what does she have to lose?

Her task complete, Mitsuha once again begins her return from the netherworld.

Dusk is already in full swing by the time Mitsuha walks clear of the mountain forest, the distant buzzing of cicadas growing more and more faint as she begins to follow the cracked, buckled road. In another time, she would have walked these very roads with Tessie and Saya, happily whiling away the time talking about anything and everything. But now she walks alone, with only her thoughts to keep her company.

Mitsuha is so engrossed in worrying about the potential fate of her family and friends that she doesn't notice a familiar voice frantically calling Taki's name until a hysterical Okudera captures her in a tight embrace.

"Taki, there you are!" Okudera sobs into Mitsuha's shoulder. "Thank goodness you're alright! Tsukasa and I woke up to find you gone, and you only left some money and a cryptic note. We were going to go back to Tokyo, but before we got on the train I suddenly had this horrible feeling that something awful was going to happen to you!"

Mitsuha grimly thinks to herself that Okudera's premonition was tragically spot on. But she can't exactly tell her that. ". . .I'm fine," she says distantly.

Okudera tearily smiles at her, yet Mitsuha knows that smile isn't meant for her. "Are you sure you're okay? You still seem a little down, you know."

"It'll pass," Mitsuha deflects, even if Okudera doesn't seem to buy it.

". . .Let's talk later, okay, Taki? It's been a long day for both of us," Okudera says. "Tsukasa and that nice old man from the ramen shop are waiting for us just down the road. We'd better hurry if we want to make it back to Tokyo tonight!"

Mitsuha silently acquiesces, wondering just how long she'll be able to maintain this façade.

The train ride back to Tokyo is quiet and uneventful, if supremely awkward. Both Tsukasa and Okudera make to break the silence, to ask how Taki is doing, but falter every time. They both know something is still wrong with Taki, perhaps worse than before, but simply don't know what to say anymore. For now Mitsuha prefers the silence, staring out of the window as rustic green fields slowly transition to the uniform greys of the city, just as she did on that fateful trip three years ago. This time, however, the settling darkness of night matches her despair, compared to the bright hope and nervous energy she carried back then.

When the train finally settles to a stop at their destination, Mitsuha hastily disembarks without a word to her companions, leaving Okudera and Tsukasa to watch her retreating back with bewilderment. Tsukasa moves to chase after her, but a gentle touch on his shoulder from Okudera stops him in his tracks. With a small shake of her head and a sad smile, she instead heads in the opposite direction as Mitsuha. Torn between his two friends, Tsukasa lingers for only a moment before dejectedly going his own way.

Mitsuha quietly slinks inside Taki's apartment, knowing full well that his father wouldn't be home, as usual. Even so, she still feels like she's trespassing. Back when she was switching places with Taki, there was a sort of tacit agreement that they were welcome in each other's homes, even if somethings were still off limits. But now. . .now, Mitsuha is too tired to dwell on the issue. She shrugs off her bag and coat before laying down on top of the bed covers, still clothed. As her sleeve slightly pulls back, she notices a familiar orange and red band on her wrist.

So, Taki had really kept the cord for three years, never knowing who that girl who gave it to him really was? In the end, he remembered. It's a bittersweet thought—despite only meeting once, and Taki didn't even know her when they did, he still came to save her.

Mitsuha cries herself to sleep, clutching her braided cord.