Missed Meeting
The wind brushed softly against Mitsuko's hair as Yakuya trudged down the quiet road to school, lost in thought.
How am I supposed to reach the interpreter now?
My phone's still with my real body… and I'm miles away from the city.
He clenched his fists in frustration.
Every answer only brought more questions, and every sunrise seemed to twist his reality a little more.
Suddenly, a firm hand gripped his shoulder.
Before thinking, Yakuya reacted on pure instinct—he grabbed the wrist, twisted sharply, and flipped the person over his shoulder.
A surprised cry echoed through the street.
He froze.
It was Rita.
Rita (groaning): "What the— Mitsuko?! What's wrong with you?!"
Yakuya (startled): "I–I'm sorry! I thought you were someone else!"
Rita winced, rubbing her shoulder as she stood up.
Rita: "Someone else? Mitsuko, since when do you know martial arts?"
Yakuya (forcing a laugh): "Uh… I guess I just reacted. Sorry about that."
By the time they reached school, Yakuya's nerves were frayed.
The hallways buzzed with chatter, but every voice sounded distant.
How am I supposed to act normal in a body that isn't mine?
When lunchtime came, he sat with Rita and Tracy, trying his best to appear composed.
Rita: "My arm still hurts, you know."
Yakuya: "I already said I was sorry…"
Tracy (smirking): "You almost broke it, Mitsuko. That was impressive—and terrifying."
Rita rolled her eyes.
Rita: "Let's just forget about it, okay? No hard feelings."
Yakuya poked at his lunch, lost in thought.
Then, hesitantly, he asked,
Yakuya: "Hey… can I ask you both something?"
Rita: "Sure. What's up?"
Yakuya: "Does anyone… bully me? I mean, Mitsuko. Do people treat her differently?"
Tracy exchanged a look with Rita, then sighed.
Tracy: "Not really. No one bullies anyone here. We all look out for each other. But…"
Rita interrupted softly,
Rita: "Some students just… think you're a bit strange sometimes. But it's nothing serious."
Yakuya leaned back, processing their words.
So Mitsuko was... an outsider? Not hated, but not understood either.
Just like me.
He smiled faintly, trying to hide the unease in his eyes.
Yakuya: "I see. Thanks. I guess I just… needed to make sure."
Rita (smiling gently): "Don't overthink it, Mitsuko. Everyone has rough days. We're here for you."
Yakuya (inwardly): You're kind… but you have no idea who I really am.
After class, the sun dipped low behind the school.
Students scattered through the streets, laughter fading with distance.
Rita: "See you tomorrow, Mitsuko!"
Tracy: "Be careful on your way home!"
Yakuya: "Yeah… see you."
Their voices faded behind him as he walked the long road to Mitsuko's home.
The city lights flickered in the distance, mocking him like ghosts of the world he no longer understood.
I missed the meeting with the interpreter… again.
Because of this damned body swap.
His mind swirled with doubt.
Each step brought new unease—like walking toward a truth he wasn't ready to face.
What if this isn't random?
What if this exchange… means something more?
When he reached Mitsuko's home, the familiar scent of miso soup drifted from the kitchen.
The grandmother turned with her warm, unchanging smile.
Grandmother: "Welcome back, dear. How was your day?"
Yakuya (forcing calm): "It was fine."
Her eyes lingered on him longer than usual—soft, but searching.
Something about that gaze made his chest tighten.
Grandmother: "Dinner will be ready soon. Do you want to help me set the table?"
Yakuya (rubbing his forehead): "No… I think I'll rest a bit."
Grandmother (concerned): "You look pale. Are you feeling sick?"
Yakuya (quickly): "No, just tired. That's all."
She nodded gently.
Grandmother: "Alright, I'll have Noriko wake you when dinner's ready."
He mumbled a quiet thank you and slipped into Mitsuko's room, collapsing onto the bed.
The last thing he saw before sleep took him was the faint glow of the clock on her phone—5:36 PM.
When he opened his eyes again, everything had changed.
The air was colder.
The ceiling—different.
The sheets—rougher.
His heart pounded.
He turned his head and saw his own reflection in the darkened window—his real reflection.
The clock beside him blinked 1:29 AM.
Yakuya was back.
In his real body.
He sat up slowly, disoriented, breathing hard.
The silence of his room pressed down like a weight.
It happened again.
The switch.
He grabbed his phone from the bedside table. The message thread with the interpreter was still open—unanswered.
Yakuya (whispering): "I missed the meeting… because of this. Damn it."
Outside, the streetlights flickered in the night fog, and he stared at them for a long time.
Somewhere out there, Mitsuko was asleep in his body.
And neither of them knew how—or why—this kept happening.
If this isn't a dream…
Then someone out there is pulling the strings.
And as the clock ticked past 1:30 AM,
Yakuya made a silent vow.
Tomorrow… I'll find the truth. No matter what it takes.
I apologize for the delay and the short chapter, but I'm tired these days, so please bear with me if you can.