Hatakeyama Natsuki -

It was the same sardine. The one she’d been trying to sell at the Tsukiji outer market before a rogue delivery truck had introduced her to the hood of a Honda. But the fish was wrong. Its scales shimmered with a deep, auroral blue, and when she tilted her head, she could hear a faint humming from inside its silver body.

He bowed, stiff and precise. “Hatakeyama Natsuki.” hatakeyama natsuki

For the first time, the boy’s obsidian eyes widened. A crack appeared in his perfect composure—something like surprise, or maybe fear. It was the same sardine

“All right, Other Natsuki,” she said. “Lead the way to your Mirror Sea. But I’m not going there to return a fish. I’m going there to find out why a dead girl with my name is the only one who can help me.” Its scales shimmered with a deep, auroral blue,

Natsuki spun. A boy her age—seventeen, maybe—leaned against a dumpster. He wore an immaculate navy school uniform, not a single crease out of place. His eyes, however, were not human. They were polished obsidian, reflecting the alley’s single flickering light like two dark moons.

“And who exactly are you?” Natsuki asked.

She tucked the sardine into the pocket of her apron.