Dialogue with the Spirits of the Skin
A Mystical Beauty Saga

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

Episode 8: The Moon’s Cipher

The harvest had made it in time.
The fully ripened loquats, gathered beneath the full moon at Shimabukuro’s farm,
each held the glow of moonlight within.

The following morning.
Kodama Takano drove his Aston Martin northward.
On the passenger seat rested the loquats gathered the night before.
Their faint sweetness filled the silence of the cabin.

His destination: the Okinawa Institute of Science and Technology—OIST.
Thanks to his mentor’s cooperation,
a special space had been prepared for fermentation experiments.

Takano’s expression showed no carelessness.
Only a quiet murmur escaped his lips:

“…I cannot afford to fail here.”

It was not determination alone—
something unsettled stirred in his chest.

An hour from Naha, he reached the laboratory.
White corridors, silent and pristine, led him to an empty research room.

The air was hushed.
The faint hum of air conditioning only emphasized the stillness of the machines.

Takano began his work with efficient precision.
He washed the fruit, cut them, removed the seeds,
and added the prepared cultures.
Temperature, humidity, pH—
each carefully controlled.

—Days passed.

Within a small glass vessel,
a golden liquid appeared.
Its shimmering surface seemed to hold a remnant of the moon.

“…Yes. This is good…”

Takano whispered, as if speaking to the loquat and the microbes,
carefully drawing off the surface layer.

The moment he touched the liquid—

…Nothing.

A cold emptiness ran down his spine.

Had it failed?

He froze, whispering despite himself:

“That night was truly the full moon…”

The moon. The orchard.
The light and fragrance of that night.
The carefully chosen fruit.
Everything had been perfect.

And yet—
silence was all that answered.

He returned the vial to the table, leaning on his hands.
Even Shisui was silent.
The gift that should have responded to touch—
now gave no reply.

On the ferry,
the spirit’s words came back to him.

“Fufufu… never forget these words.”

“At the fall of the moon, upon its own bed.”

“What do you mean…?”

The spirit had only smiled.

“Fufufu… you’ll find it.”

And then—gone.
Her voice, her figure, fading like wind.

Takano opened his eyes.
The liquid before him lay still,
its innocent color shimmering quietly.

“…I don’t understand.”

His power could not reach it.
No matter how he stacked reason,
he could not touch nature’s truth.

He would have to return to the site.
Back to the orchard—there must be something there.

It was no reasoned conclusion.
But something within him urged, as if guided.

He rose, tracing the vial of Shisui at his chest with his hand.
Then he turned quietly and left the laboratory.

The Aston Martin’s engine rumbled low.
The sun was already tilting west.

At the fall of the moon, upon its own bed.

The meaning remained sealed.
And yet—
he knew it was for him alone to unveil.