The tock, tock of the large pendulum clock echoed throughout the room. It was September, the lingering heat of summer intense. The building was an old, but still majestic-looking traditional Japanese house. Madoka sat alone on the living room sofa, waiting for Misaki.
She looked around her, unable to relax. There were several bookshelves, all crammed with old tomes. She'd never touched a single one of them.
It had been years since Madoka, with no relatives of her own, had been taken in by the Asou family, but the house had never felt like home to her. The place was filled with the indelible scent of incense that was characteristic of old houses. Madoka wasn't fond of the smell. It made her feel like she was at a funeral home. It was the fault of that smell that she couldn't feel comfortable there; it seemed to demonstrate that the whole house was shunning her.
Tock, tock, tock... Madoka got up, hearing footsteps in the hall.
Misaki came into the living room. From the intensity of her gait and the dangerous look in her eyes, Madoka guessed that she was in a bad mood.
"Oh, Misaki. Have you heard? Um, about Marie and Tomoe..."
"I know," she said curtly.
Misaki must have heard the news of their friends' deaths, too, but she seemed uninterested, as if she had something else on her mind. Despite this, there was something that Madoka had to tell her.
"Um, Misaki..."
"What?"
Misaki shot a sidelong glance at Madoka as she threw herself down on the sofa.
"I... was looking into the kagura for Marie, and I sent her stuff about the island."
"..."
"What have I done...? Is it my fault? Was it something I―"
"Madoka."
Misaki took Madoka's trembling hand in her own, pulled her down onto the sofa, and guided her head onto her lap.
"It's not your fault. You were just doing as you were asked." Misaki stroked Madoka's hair as if she were petting a cat. "Because I said no. She must've known you'd agree to do it for her."
Misaki changed like the wind. Sometimes she concealed a dangerous sharpness; sometimes, like now, she possessed a softness that seemed to envelop her.
Madoka closed her eyes. Though she had lost all memories of her childhood, she felt as though a faint trace of that gentle aura still lingered somewhere deep within her memory. She could feel the tension seeping from her muscles.
"But, the way they died..."
That didn't mean her fear of what she had seen had evaporated without a trace, though. As if bringing up the anxiety that remained within her heart, Madoka continued.
"They looked like they were screaming and crying... You saw the photos too, right?"
"Yeah."
Misaki suddenly pushed Madoka off of her lap, got to her feet, and exited the living room. Madoka was taken aback by the way she acted like a child fed up with a toy.
But Misaki was always like this. One minute, she'd dote on her like a stuffed toy; the next, she'd treat her icily like an object. There were even times when she'd become so irritated that she would take it out on Madoka.
Each time she did, Madoka felt a dark shadow falling over her heart. But it was too late for her. She'd already got a taste of that gentleness.
Madoka wondered whether Misaki's fickleness was down to the fact that her lost memories wouldn't come back. She wanted to have her own way when it came to everything, but her lost memories alone were out of her control. That was why her emotional swings were always so tempestuous, why she was so selfish, why...
No. What if... it was the Moonlight Syndrome?
Madoka cast off the thought that had flitted through her mind. No. She was supposed to be better now. Not like Marie and Tomoe.
Misaki came back into the living room. This time, she was holding a bag. She had been walking back and forth for a while now, and seemed to be getting ready for something.
"I'm leaving right now."
"...W-where are you going?"
Misaki walked past Madoka again, coming to a stop after a few steps, and replied without turning back to face her.
"Rogetsu Isle."
"Huh?"
The island where Madoka, Misaki, Marie, Tomoe and Ruka had lived as small children. The place where the five of them had been spirited away. The place where they had all lost their memories.
"I-I've heard that it's deserted now, but..."
The hospital where Misaki and Ruka had stayed didn't exist anymore. She knew that much, since she'd looked into it for Marie. But...
"...Right. I have to go back."
Have to go back?
Madoka made herself stop thinking, feeling as though they weren't having the same conversation. It was Misaki's scent that brought her back to her senses - a rough, sad scent she had never smelled before. It almost seemed to belong to someone else entirely.
"If I go there, I'll remember."
Her words were cast into the void. Though they certainly were directed at Madoka, it didn't seem like it to her. She sounded more like a child playing with a doll, having a conversation by herself.
Feeling goosebumps spreading across her skin, Madoka reflexively reached out to Misaki. The next moment, Misaki turned to face her, exuding the same gentle, enveloping aroma as always.
"Come with me."
Her hand no longer having anywhere to go, she lowered it. As if entranced by her smile, Madoka and Misaki's eyes met. Misaki's peremptory tone and sweet, soft scent seized Madoka's thoughts.
I know. Of course she couldn't leave me behind.
With a silent nod, Madoka began to walk, like a butterfly enticed by the sweet fragrance of a flower.
Two of her friends were dead. Marie and Tomoe, two of the girls who had been spirited away. Would they be next? That anxiety - that fear - slid quietly down Madoka's spine. We would've had to make sure of what happened there someday, she told herself.
Their destination was an island lying beneath a hazy moon in the night sky: the place where it all began.