Dialogue with the Spirits of the Skin
A Mystical Beauty Saga

Season 1 – When the Moon Descends: The Tale of the Loquat Spirit

Episode 5: The Road Blocked

The departure lobby of Itami Airport.
Morning light streamed through the glass ceiling.
Outside, the sky was clear, not a cloud in sight.
No wind. On the runway, aircraft stood neatly in line.

—And yet.
What was this hush that blanketed the entire airport?

Kodama Takano halted.
It was not temperature. Not humidity.
It was a subtle “alignment,” grating faintly within his skin.
As though the very space had arranged itself, waiting for something.

He checked his smartphone.
Not only his flight to Naha—
every single departure from Itami was marked:
“Cancelled due to technical trouble.”

“…What the…”

His voice never left his lips,
but within his chest there was a faint strike of sound.

This was no accident.
No natural phenomenon.
It was deliberate.
They had been stopped.

At that moment, the announcement came overhead.

“All domestic flights from Itami Airport today have been cancelled, due to technical issues—”

A wave of unrest spread through the lobby.

“Every flight…?”
“What are we supposed to do?”
“I’ll never make it in time…”

Some ran to find alternatives.
Others crowded the counters.
Voices of urgency tangled in the air.

And beneath the noise, another silence.
Not one that sound could mask.
A hidden current, flowing at the bottom of the space—
an invisible operation.

Takano let his gaze wander.

By the ticket gates, in the shadow of a shop, near a vending machine.
Men in suits, scattered casually.
Their movements held no flaw.
Smartphones in hand.

But each wore the same black earpiece.

That alone was more than enough of a sign.

What was happening here was no coincidence.

The cosmetics industry was a battlefield of beauty.
Especially with fermentation—new ingredients could mean vast profit.
Fermentation conditions, extraction methods, storage techniques.
Even securing just one could lock the market under patent.

Behind the scenes, constant wars of information raged.
Illicit trades, leaks, the poaching of researchers—
sometimes even the disappearance of entire developers.

Takano lived in the midst of such a world.
He was long accustomed to being watched.

The vial of Shisui at his chest swayed faintly.

He walked to a column apart from the gates,
leaning into its shadow, surveying the concourse.
He noted the placement of each man in black.
None looked directly at him.
But that, in itself, was unnatural.

The counters ran as usual.
The staff smiled, unbroken.
The displays shifted, the announcements clear.
Only the planes—did not move.

“They don’t want me to go…
Or is it something waiting where I’m headed?”

It was not quite a thought,
not quite a whisper—
just a question without shape.

But this carefully arranged halt—
it was a headwind against the journey itself.

Takano seated himself on a bench at the far end of the lobby.
He stretched his spine, calmed his breath.

Two days until the full moon.
If he could not reach Okinawa,
the promise with the loquat would break.
And with nature, there could be no delay.

On his phone, maps and timetables glowed.
Shinkansen. Ferries. Overland drives.
One by one, he examined them.

Southward on the expressway, ferry from Kagoshima.
A long detour, but better to be pursued—or to lure pursuit.
With the skies blocked,
only a journey with footprints remained.

From the corner of his sight,
he sensed those men again.
Still unmoving.
Still blind to him.
And yet the taut stillness clung thick in the air.

Takano rose and began to walk.
His pace did not falter.
At his chest, Shisui swayed once more.

The battle was beginning—
quietly.