Dialogue with the Spirits of the Skin
A Mystical Beauty Saga

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

Episode 6: The Long Road Ahead

Morning in Kyoto.
A heavy mist blanketed the city.
Through the veil of white that stole away sight,
Kodama Takano walked in silence.

There, at the far end of the lot, waited his Aston Martin DBS 770 Ultimate Volante—
its jet-black frame crouched low, like a predator poised.

Without a word, he entered and closed the door.
The engine stirred with a low growl,
answering the weight of his body sinking into the seat.
It was no violent roar,
but the quiet breath of higher power, refined.

The long journey was beginning.

His destination: Naha, Okinawa.
By road to Kagoshima,
then ferry across the sea.
Thirty-eight hours in total.
Only two days remained before the full moon.
There was no room left for hesitation.

Through his phone’s speaker came the voice of the loquat farmer.
Takano apologized for the sudden change of plans.

“It will be close, but I will come without fail.
That night—I will harvest.”

Ending the call, he set both hands on the wheel,
pressing the accelerator gently.

The Aston Martin surged forward, cutting through the mist.
Its black body traced luminous lines,
scattering the fine particles behind.

Morning light began to sweep the fog away.
Golden rays brushed the pavement,
casting faint brilliance upon the car’s front.

Takano narrowed his eyes.

(…It’s as if the road itself is stretching toward the full moon.)

He passed onto the expressway.
The engine thundered—
not muddied noise,
but the clear rush of a current splitting the sky.
The Aston Martin flew straight south,
slicing the highway open.

In the car lay only essentials—
tools, critical documents.
Shisui swayed quietly at his chest.

“…That voice.
Where will I hear it next, I wonder.”

Not a question to anyone—
just a murmur,
tinged with the faintest thread of tension.

The scenery through the window shifted gently.
City edges, fields, mountains.
Light and shadow appearing, fading, passing.

The revelation at the ancient temple.
The fragrance of winter-blooming loquat.
The condition of the full moon.

Beyond delivering on time lay another question—
how would this journey act upon the material itself?
Or upon himself?
Thoughts drifted outward,
then returned with each vibration of the frame.

He paused briefly at a service area.
One sip of coffee.
Its faint bitterness steadied his breath within.

The moon was not yet visible.
But its presence—
a sense of something arriving—already pressed in the sky.

Shisui quivered faintly in its vial,
rippling though no wind stirred.

He exhaled softly,
and pressed the accelerator again.
The Aston Martin roared—
yet soon, even that sound dissolved into background.

Silence returned to the cabin.

Evening.
Through the streets of Kagoshima,
toward the ferry terminal.
The sky deepened into indigo,
the sea wind brushing his cheek.

Loading the car onto the ferry passed swiftly.
Leaving it behind,
he moved toward his cabin.

Through the window, the surface of the sea gleamed with moonlight.

Not yet full—
but its outline was sharp, undeniable.
The light stretched across the water,
like a road drawn toward the distance.

(…From here onward.)

His gaze fixed south, toward Naha.
Unseen, and yet—
something was calling.

“This journey… it feels as if the moon itself is guiding me.
Whatever lies ahead…
—I will see it through.”

Having spoken, he fell quiet again.
The world had grown too silent for words.

The ferry pulled away from shore.
Amid the rumble of the engine and the murmur of the waves,
he thought he caught the faintest trace—
the fragrance of loquat blossoms.

Perhaps it was the spirit’s voice,
already reaching toward him.