Two souls sharing two bodies, switching across time and space—between navigating completely different lives and dealing with each other's daily routines.
What fascinated them most was the radically different ways they each saw the world.
Only after entering his body did she realize the world could look so completely different.
Colors and light took on a vivid, whimsical quality—shadows, weight, brightness…
Even raindrops were no longer a monotonous downpour, but neat, glowing streaks under the yellow glow of streetlamps, each line slicing cleanly toward the ground.
The wind whispered past her ears, sharing its past and telling her where it was headed.
Cake wasn't just a pretty picture anymore; when she bit into a strawberry, it almost seemed to grumble, "I waited two whole days just to get eaten!"
Even time took on a shape—slipping through the curtains to become morning light nudging her to catch the early train.
It slipped between the fresh green leaves of oak trees at noon, casting warm sunlight on her face and softly reminding her, Kyousuke's body should be napping now.
And as neon signs blurred the city skyline and erased the division between day and night, time would shift again, taking on the cherry blossom hues of Tokyo Tower.
What does it feel like to see the world through someone else's eyes?
Even with VR technology advancing by leaps and bounds, Miyamizu Mitsuha was convinced: no one in the world—now or a hundred years from now—would have more authority on the subject than she did.
She had experienced everything—through his eyes, his hands, his steps.
Every corner of the world, from a perspective completely unlike her own.
But while her soul lingered in his body, wandering the streets and alleys of Tokyo, what was her own body doing?
That was the biggest problem with switching bodies—the... awkward complications of gender differences.
"You drank my kuchikami sake!?"
"You touch there every morning when you wake up!?"
"Is your germophobia really that bad you need three showers a day!?"
…
He had experienced her body too—had lived her life, the one she took for granted, and saw it all from the inside.
Three years later.
Now in Tokyo, retracing his footsteps, walking the same streets he used to roam—yet she could no longer feel the same way she did before.
What filled her now was that bittersweet warmth—when their fingers interlocked, when they walked up the stairs bathed in sunset toward the family diner where fate had changed everything.
That moment, sitting across from him, eating food that was both familiar and foreign, made her want to cry from happiness and whisper: "It hasn't been easy, has it?"
Thinking back on the lingering softness of his hand, the quiet confidence in Eriri's budding curves, Mitsuha no longer wanted to say, "Send Kasumigaoka Utaha to another world."
No—she felt more like saying, "Thank goodness Kyousuke helped monitor my puberty progression."
Whether the "massages" actually helped or whether that perverted wolf just made up some nonsense to pacify Yotsuba, she didn't know.
But the fact remained—she now stood tall and proud, and that alone was proof enough.
Watching Kyousuke effortlessly pick the perfect-sized shoes for Utaha without needing to ask, Mitsuha gave a small smile, shaking her head.
She could do that too—but not because she was especially observant. She had seen all of this through Kyousuke's eyes.
That's what set her apart.
Miyamizu Mitsuha, with the strange bloodline running through her veins—was different from everyone else.
Yamauchi Sakura—so cautious that she tapped each stone on the bridge with her cane as she walked—had managed to fool even the notoriously meticulous Kyousuke.
But when facing Mitsuha, who was occupying Kyousuke's body, Sakura had effortlessly revealed her deepest, most hidden secrets.
Even knowing about the body-swapping, anyone walking, sitting, or standing near them could sense how perfectly in sync Sakura was with Kyousuke.
One moment stayed with Mitsuha the most: whenever they went out as a group, Sakura never walked side by side with her.
She always stayed half a step ahead on Mitsuha's right—even if Shouko and Naoka walked beside her.
Curious, Mitsuha asked about this odd habit.
Sakura's bright golden eyes first blinked in confusion, as if to say, Isn't that obvious? Then, realizing Mitsuha wasn't the childhood friend she thought, she smiled and answered brightly:
"Because this way, if I fall, Kyousuke can catch me right away."
So that's what it was…
Even as she walked into the restaurant, Mitsuha couldn't stop thinking about it.
When Kyousuke walked, part of his heart was always watching over Sakura.
Sakura, for her part, accepted that love—and returned it by trying to ease Kyousuke's burden in her own quiet way.
None of this could have been seen—unless you had lived in Kyousuke's body.
Unless you used his eyes, stood at his height, walked his path.
Unless your soul tuned into their wavelength, even accidentally.
Only then could you witness the subtle emotions within these girls.
Only then could you feel their hidden love.
Nishimiya Shouko—like the reflection of the moon on a lake.
Even if someone tossed a stone and ripples disturbed the surface, her gentle expression would return soon enough.
To anyone else, she was simply the embodiment of kindness.
But they couldn't see the resilience behind that gentleness—how she faced every setback with grace.
As long as the moon above remained unclouded, the moon in the lake would never waver.
It was as if something… or someone… was always keeping the clouds away—giving her strength to smile through every dark moment.
You'd never understand this unless you had spoken with her using Kyousuke's face.
Unless you had looked into her eyes and heard that quiet reliance in her softest voice.
Kasumigaoka Utaha—an almost divine beauty, as if blessed by the gods.
Her wine-red eyes carried such arrogance, as if the world itself couldn't leave the faintest mark on her soul.
Yet on the internet, chatting with "him", she became someone else entirely—tentative, anxious, obsessing over every word she typed.
Who would ever guess that this bestselling author, the pride of Toyogasaki Academy, could be so shy and lovestruck?
And when she tried to drag "him" to the National Center of Neurology and Psychiatry under the pretense of a shopping trip—well, it was impossible to understand what she was thinking.
Did she really believe he'd fall for that!?
Anyway—none of this could be believed unless you had taken over Kyousuke's body, answered messages as "Sayuka," and lived her world from the inside.
Sawamura Spencer Eriri—golden-haired and always smiling, an art piece of a girl.
A perfect noble lady adored by all.
And yet, in front of Mitsuha, she was selfish and bratty like a child.
As if she knew throwing a tantrum would get her what she wanted.
She had been thoroughly spoiled—protected, indulged, and loved.
She didn't need to hide it.
She wanted Kyousuke to enjoy Comiket? Then just say so.
Why the roundabout excuses like "There's no point in going to the booth"?
Of course, that kind of bratty affection was something she only ever showed to one person.
If Mitsuha hadn't entered Kyousuke body before, she never would've believed someone could be this awkward.
Yukino Yukari—the dream girl of every guy at school...
The gentle, elegant Yukari had worn such a heartbroken expression when she realized it wasn't Kyousuke's soul in his body.
Even now, just thinking about it made Mitsuha want to grab that bastard by the collar and demand: What the hell have you been doing with my body?!
If she hadn't been able to enter Kyousuke's body herself, she never would have seen that coy, adorable expression of Yukino's—those galaxy-like black eyes and her little tongue sticking out, begging like a kitten.
And Ueno Naoka... Naoka had even told her the story she treasured most—the story of how she and Kyousuke first met.
Then there was Okudera Miki. All those emails. It was as if she practiced cooking every single day just to see Kyousuke's satisfied smile.
…
It wasn't just the girls close to him—there were friends, colleagues too.
Like the terrifying Oni Duo, always so fierce in public.
But once Mitsuha was inside Kyousuke's body, they acted like total idiots, treating everything she said like gospel.
Even Kisaki Tetta had no qualms about casually mentioning plans that would normally send someone straight to the police.
And then there were Aunt Mikiko, Uncle Ichirou...
This strange power—passed down through the Miyamizu family for generations—had created a bond between a country girl and a Tokyo genius.
It was something unbreakable, something sacred.
Everyone is unique, of course.
But when it came to emotions, Mitsuha had seen far more than anyone else ever could.
Through his eyes, through his body, she'd seen their love for him—and his love for them.
She saw how Nishimiya Shouko would give up everything just to stay by his side.
She saw the burning ambition in Kasumigaoka Utaha to outshine everyone else and be number one.
She saw Eriri's childlike innocence, still not fully understanding what love really meant…
And she also saw what Yamauchi Sakura was doing—something terrifying.
That was why she sighed and gave in to that unfaithful idiot.
She couldn't leave him.
She knew he couldn't leave them. And they couldn't leave him.
She was the most special of them all. No one understood that better than her.
In fact, she was present in every single one of those relationships.
Seriously…
Just thinking about it gave Miyamizu Mitsuha a headache.
Take right now, for example—Eriri had just stomped on Kyousuke's foot with a scowl, grumbling through her nose:
"Touching someone else's foot without asking… you wanna catch athlete's foot or something?!"
And Mitsuha knew—she knew—that in Kyousuke's mind, that would automatically translate to: "You're only allowed to touch MY feet!"
Why? Because she knew how they met. She knew how he helped Eriri treat her injured foot.
Ugh… it was exhausting.
With a quiet sigh, Mitsuha reached under Kasumigaoka Utaha's arm and gently looped hers through it.
"Let's go," she said with a warm smile, her tone showing not a trace of the earlier desire to banish Utaha to another world.
"…Yeah, we should head back."
Utaha blinked, then her lips curved into a smile.
Her chest still ached faintly, but her heart felt lighter, like sunlight had finally broken through the clouds.
Mitsuha… really was her best friend.
Even if she and Kyousuke got married one day, she would still give Mitsuha the most time.
Love is war—and in war, temporary alliances weren't unusual.
After all, it wasn't just the two of them on the battlefield.
There were countless hidden enemies waiting in the wings.
That was why, when she moved into the Ruyi Dormitory, she'd been angry at nearly every new resident or guest—except Mitsuha.
Mitsuha, she accepted instantly.
Eriri, always so proud of her "fated manga-like encounter" with Kyousuke, was just starting to cool down when she saw him, that idiot, about to touch Kasumigaoka Utaha's foot.
The rage that surged through her nearly turned her sapphire-blue eyes into a completely new element.
Thankfully, Mitsuha had stepped in to stop him in time.
Even though she'd received a solemn promise—"I won't touch anyone's foot ever again unless I understand it"—the golden-haired ojou-sama still hadn't quite calmed down.
But before she could launch another verbal strike, she looked up—and saw Mitsuha and Utaha walking out of the changing room, arm in arm, chatting and laughing.
…Huh?
Eriri tilted her head, utterly baffled.
Even with her famously quick wit and adaptable mind, she couldn't piece together what had just happened while she was scolding Kyousuke.
Could it be… they'd taken her words to heart?
Yeah… that had to be it.
Even though they'd both looked furious right after she'd said it, that must've just been embarrassment.
Deep down, they'd already been reflecting.
That's why they were acting so friendly now.
Heck, maybe when they got home, they'd even start fighting again.
Ugh. Such tsunderes.
She had to tell Kyousuke to stay on guard later.
Having figured out the sequence of events—and even predicted how it might unfold—Eriri gave herself a perfect score of 101.
Sure, the max score was 100, but she was just that amazing.
"Come on," she said in her usual bratty tone, tugging Kyousuke's hand. "Aunt Mikiko and Kasuko are probably looking for you."
"Mm."
Kyousuke understood exactly why Mitsuha and Utaha had suddenly become so chummy, but even if he didn't, it wouldn't have mattered.
With his laid-back attitude, he probably would've just taken a nap instead of worrying about it.
Now that Eriri mentioned it, he really did miss his mom and sister.
Oh, and how could he forget… that ridiculous dad of his.
That henpecked husband and daughter-obsessed idiot.
Why didn't he stay on the ranch in Otaru and help Grandpa out?
If the calves didn't get enough food, Kasuko would be heartbroken!
If the calves weren't chubby by the time he got home, Grandpa's other cows might be in danger!
And if he didn't get enough to eat, Grandpa would beat the crap out of him!
With that brain—good enough to get into Tokyo University and become a top-tier lawyer—how could he not realize this stuff?
Thinking about his dopey dad actually put a little spring in his step.
He couldn't wait to give him a big bear hug and brag about the award he just won—and all the even bigger ones he was gonna win next.
But just as he took a step forward, he was yanked to a halt.
"Idiot! Your shirt!"
Eriri pointed sharply at his wrinkled white dress shirt.
Right.
The real victim of today wasn't Utaha, or Mitsuha… It was probably Ueno Naoka.
That beautiful white shirt—custom-made by Naoka—was now a crumpled mess. Several buttons were loose from where Utaha had been sitting on him earlier.
Though… he did kind of look cool like this.
Like a protagonist who'd just rescued a princess from a burning building.
With his collar open, collarbones peeking out, and faint red marks from all the chaos earlier, his face glowed with that familiar look of post-victory relief.
'So cool… but I can't let anyone else see him like this!'
With that thought, the blonde-haired princess took a step forward, lifted both hands to wrap around his neck, and gave a gentle tug—bringing his face down to meet her gaze.
"Don't look at me like that! Your breath is hitting my face!" she huffed, cheeks flushed as she reached out with her right hand.
Her index finger pressed against Kyousuke's cheek, nudging his face to the left.
'Jeez, why are you standing so close? I can literally see my reflection in your eyes.
I'm only helping fix your clothes so Aunt Mikiko doesn't think I hit you on the way back to the hall!'
"Ah~"
Even after everything with Utaha-senpai just now, Kyousuke hadn't blushed.
But faced with this rare moment of gentleness from Eriri, a faint flush actually crept up his face.
As her small hands worked around his collar, gently brushing and straightening, his expression softened even more.
'If she wanted to, she really could make a wonderful wife…'
He never once thought Eriri's tsundere nature was a problem.
Quite the opposite—he found her unique way of caring for him incredibly endearing.
"Seriously, do you even realize how much effort Naoka put into making this shirt?"
Eriri grumbled, lips in a pout.
She first lifted the wrinkled collar and smoothed it with delicate fingers before folding it neatly back down.
Her pale, slender hands moved carefully around the neckline, adjusting it with practiced ease.
"Hehe~ I'll apologize to her properly later," Kyousuke said with a chuckle, squinting playfully before making a quick gesture to Amemiya Miki to signal she should head back first.
"You need to be more careful! You're a company president now—you can't keep acting so recklessly!"
Eriri scolded him, still fussing with his collar.
"There are tons of people waiting to talk to you! Honestly, you're so immature. If you show up like this, Aunt Mikiko's going to worry herself sick.
She'll be like, 'Oh no, is my little Kyousuke really living such a dangerous life in Tokyo? His clothes are already torn to shreds!'"
Her fingers brushed over the seam on his shoulder, then lowered to inspect the loosened buttons below.
The way she kept talking—like a wife nagging her drunk husband as she helped him undress after a night out—was oddly tender despite the nonstop complaints.
Noticing she had lowered her head, Kyousuke turned his gaze down too.
As she mumbled on, he quietly enjoyed her company while inspecting the ribbons she'd used to tie her twin tails today.
Bright red, two-centimeter-wide cloth bands.
Simple, yet beautiful.
Even though it was just an ordinary shade of red, and the fabric was nothing fancy or glittering, once tied into her golden, art-like hair—it became the most beautiful hair ribbon in the world.
———————————————————————
Daily Uploads!
Unlock bonus chapters by reaching specific milestones with [Power Stone] votes!
Go to p-atreon.com/InsomniaTL to access more than 50 advanced chapters.