List of Bookmarks
When Misaki is six years old, she’s riding in the back seat of her parents’ car, her feet kicking lazily against the booster seat as her father drives just a little bit faster than the speed limit down the Moonlight Bridge. Her mother speaks animatedly about something her coworker had said the other day, while her father laughs. For Misaki, this — having both her parents with her, having both a place she came from before and a place to go — is enough. She thinks about what she’s going to wear to school the next day, what games she’s going to play with Yukari at the shrine, what kind of stories her father will tell her when they get home.
Suddenly, a loud boom echoes throughout the bridge. Her father stops laughing. Her mother’s body contorts in such a way that it shields her from the brunt of the impact, but looks like a rag doll from the way it hangs limply and lifelessly before her once the dust settles.
Suddenly, when she wakes up in the hospital later, everything is gone and only her grandparents and their bookstore are left.
(In which the protagonist never leaves Port Island, and chooses instead to fight for her family.)