When The Moon Remembers

Airi Takamori had never been afraid of the moon. That was what made the dream so strange. Every night, the same enormous moon appeared above a silent city. Its light covered the rooftops, the empty streets and a lake that seemed to stretch farther than the horizon. Airi always stood at the water's edge, though she never remembered walking there. Someone was always waiting across the lake. She could never see the person's face. On the seventh night, the figure raised one hand. Airi woke before dawn with her heart racing. For a moment, her bedroom was completely silent. Then she noticed the pale crescent of light on her desk. It had not come from the window. It was a symbol, faint and silver, drawn across the open page of her notebook. She touched it. The symbol vanished. At school, Airi tried to forget the dream. She was a Takamori, heir to one of the Four First-Class families, and she had been taught from childhood that strange things were best left alone. But before lunch, every clock in the corridor stopped at the same minute. 12:17. The lights flickered. Airi looked toward the classroom window and saw the moon. It was daytime. Impossible. Then a boy stepped into the corridor carrying a sketchbook. Ren Kurogawa. He glanced at the sky, then at Airi. “You saw it too,” he said. Airi stared at him. “Saw what?” Ren opened his sketchbook. Every page contained the same moon