The records of Hoshifuri revealed a fresh cruelty every time they were read.
During their second stop, Kuon discovered another stone tablet hidden beneath the pedestal. On the reverse side of the selection criteria, he found a log of timestamps.
"Names categorized as 'Outflow' have an expiration date."
Kuon leaned in, bringing his prosthetic eye close to the stone. The characters were faint, barely clinging to the surface.
"Once cast into the liquid, they last for seven lunar cycles. Beyond that, the name is completely diluted. It becomes water. Nothing but ordinary water."
The color drained from Koyoi’s face.
"When was Yonsora sent to Twilight Wave Beach?"
"Immediately after the collapse of the Scripture Repository," Kuon replied. "The moment we released the names, the Observers intercepted them and sent them to the penal colony. Since then—"
Kuon counted on his fingers.
"Four moons have passed."
Only three left. In three more cycles, Yonsora’s name would turn to water.
Asahi sat on the edge of the pedestal, his sword propped against his knee.
"Will we make it in time?"
"I’ve been to Twilight Wave Beach once. I know the location," Kuon said. "The problem is how to find a specific name within that liquid. We have to pull Yonsora out from a sea where thousands of other names are dissolving."
Koyoi pulled out a manuscript—the one where Yonsora’s name was written. The ink was still damp.
"These children’s names will call to their own. If we immerse the manuscript in the liquid, the identical names should draw each other in."
Kuon looked at him. "What makes you think that?"
"Earlier, when I held the manuscript against the window... a single droplet of water glowed gold. I think the name on the page was pulling at a name dissolved in the rain."
Kuon remained silent. He didn't offer a rebuttal.
The three of them boarded the train. Toward Twilight Wave Beach. This time, they would be stopping for good.
Back on the white plaza, the names that had settled into the manuscript’s basin cast a faint, shimmering light toward the backs of the departing trio.
As the train pulled away, waves began to lash against the windows. With every strike, a single line vanished from the nautical chart Kuon had spread out. As the waves receded, new blanks opened up across the map.
Koyoi counted the lines as they flickered out of existence. When the seventh line vanished, the sound of the waves fell silent.