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Dawn breaks slower over Itomori than it does in Tokyo. Mitsuha Miyamizu wakes up to the aroma of miso soup, finding her little sister Yotsuha already crouched by the kotatsu picking tofu out of her bowl. In the shrine courtyard, their grandmother is sprinkling water, the clatter of her geta on wet stone pavers echoing down the hallway. Mitsuha loops the kumihimo threads around the braiding stand, her fingers weaving back and forth among the silk cords out of pure muscle memory. Sayaka rings her bicycle bell downstairs, while Tessie waits at the mouth of the alley in his light truck. They agreed to hit the convenience store after school to flip through the latest manga issues. Life in this small town drifts as slowly as mountain mist. In late July, the ocean breeze plasters Hodaka's bangs against his forehead. Sitting near the ship's railing, he touches the ferry ticket inside his backpack's inner pocket, its edges softened from constant handling. Behind him, the shadow of his island recedes into the distance; ahead, Tokyo has yet to take shape along the horizon. On deck, some passengers are seasick, some snap photos, and others munch on rice balls. Hodaka slips his earbuds in, playing nothing. Inside the cabin, the television plays the weather forecast, predicting rain for Tokyo today. September in Miyazaki is still warm. Suzume Iwato coasts down from the top of the slope, the hem of her school uniform skirt catching the wind as the bicycle chain clicks rhythmically. Passing the fishing port, she squints at the sunlight shimmering across the sea like shattered glass. Her aunt Tamaki's parting shout—"Did you remember your bento?"—is swept away in the wind behind her. The school gate is packed with students; she props her bike against the wall, slipping into the crowd without even locking it. There's an English quiz today, and the vocabulary words she memorized last night have turned into a jumbled mess in her head. Each of them lives within their own timeline. The comet over Itomori has yet to fall, the rain in Shikoku has yet to stop, and the floodwaters in Tokyo have yet to rise.