I spent the next while crafting a makeshift stone axe. Using one rock to chip away at another, I shaped a crude but sharp edge. Tying it to a sturdy stick with scraps of cloth, I created a tool that, while far from perfect, would be enough to cut down smaller, withered trees.
Nearby, Anna and Haruka were twisting plant fibers into ropes. Their hands moved with steady precision—splitting, twisting, and looping until thick cords formed.
"So this is hemp?" I asked, stepping closer.
Anna nodded. "You brought plenty."
I picked up a stray bundle. "Can I try?"
She smiled and demonstrated. "Twist it tight, like this."
My first few attempts unraveled, but soon the pattern started to make sense.
"Not bad," she said, tugging my uneven cord with an approving nod. "Keep practicing."
I smirked. "I think I'll leave the pro work to you two."
Later, I approached Haruki, who was tending the campfire.
"Would you like to help me collect wood with me?" I asked.
"Sure," he said easily.
I sat beside him, deciding it was a good time to ask some questions.
"So, you were headed to the US?"
"Yeah," he said. "But as you can see, we didn't make it."
"Was anyone else with you? Or was it just you and Haruka?"
He frowned, his gaze distant. "I don't know. There was a storm at night. We were asleep, and when we woke up, the ship was sinking. By the time we got to the deck, the life rafts and everyone else were gone. Haruka and I were the last ones. We had to jump overboard with a few sailors, but... we ended up here alone. No one from the ship made it with us."
"That's... unfortunate," I said quietly. "Where were you coming from?"
"Japan," he said. "It was September."
I froze. "So... you've been here for almost a year? It's August now."
He shook his head firmly. "Impossible. We've only been here for a week at most. We set sail in September... 1963."
For a moment, I thought I'd misheard. "Nineteen sixty-three?"
He nodded, his expression confused. "Why do you look so freaked out?"
"No," I lied, forcing a smile. "No, I was mistaken. I just... got scatterbrained. You're right—it's September." I paused, adding quickly, "I've lost my memories. I think Anna told you about that. Don't worry about it."
Haruki seemed reassured, but my mind was reeling. If what he said was true, over seventy years had passed. It didn't make sense—but then again, nothing about this island did.
I glanced at the hemp and stones lying near the fire, a tangible reminder of the strange survival tasks we focused on amid these deeper mysteries.
I thought about telling Haruki the truth, but something stopped me. For now, I decided to keep it to myself and discuss it with Anna first. Shocking him bluntly didn't feel right.
For now, I kept the truth buried.
I approached Haruki, my voice calm but tinged with guilt. "Sorry for worrying you," I said sincerely.
He gave me a small smile and replied, "No harm done."
Relieved, I asked, "We're still up for wood collection, right?"
"Of course," he confirmed with a nod.
As the warm glow of the campfire flickered between us, I stood and brushed off the dirt from my clothes. The air was cooling, and the gentle rustling of leaves added to the night's ambiance. I made my way toward Anna, who was sitting quietly nearby. Approaching her, I hesitated for a moment before asking, "Anna, could you spare some time? We need to talk."
Her brow furrowed slightly. "Sure," she replied, her voice laced with curiosity. "But what is it? You seem... concerned."
"Walk with me," I said, glancing around to ensure the siblings wouldn't overhear. Anna didn't press further and stood to join me. We moved away from the crackling fire, the shadows of the surrounding trees swallowing us as we walked into a quieter part of the camp.
Once we were alone, I turned to her, my voice low but urgent. "What year is it?"
Anna blinked, startled. "What? What kind of question is that? If you forgot, you could've just asked back at the camp."
"Just answer the question," I said firmly, my serious expression silencing any protests.
Her confusion turned to concern as she noticed my troubled look. "It's 2024. Why?"
"Right," I muttered, my chest tightening. "So I'm not wrong." I paused to steady my thoughts before continuing. "I don't know if you've heard this from Haruka or not, but something's not adding up. I asked Haruki a few questions about where they're from—and when. His answers… they're strange."
Anna tilted her head, intrigued. "Go on."
I exhaled sharply. "He said they set sail for the U.S. from Japan in 1963."
Anna's eyes widened in disbelief. "Wait, what?"
"Exactly. At first, I thought he was joking, but he's certain. He says they've only been on this island for a week. I don't know what to make of it." My voice dropped. "What do we do, Anna? Should we tell them what we suspect, or keep this to ourselves for now? I'm lost here."
Anna was silent for a moment, the weight of the revelation sinking in. Finally, she spoke, her tone careful. "Let's make this clear: they claim they set sail in 1963. So… what? Did they time travel or something? This doesn't make any sense."
"I know," I replied, running a hand through my hair. "I had a mini existential crisis when I heard it. I don't know if it's time travel or something else entirely. But considering how odd this island is, I'm inclined to believe him."
I nodded slowly, the gravity of the situation sinking in. "This place is strange, I'll give you that. I forgot to mention something earlier—when I went out to scout for food near the sea, I noticed something bizarre. There's no life out there. No fish, no coral, not even seaweed. It's just… dead water, stretching out to the horizon."
Anna's eyes widened slightly as she processed this. "And yet," she said, her voice thoughtful, "there are animals on the island. They're thriving somehow, even though there's no proper ecosystem to sustain them.
Anna crossed her arms, deep in thought. "If what Haruki says is true, then this island is far more than just odd. It's unnatural." She looked at me, her voice resolute. "I think we should tell them the truth. If we're honest, we can build trust. But how do we convince them we're from the future? They'll think we're lying."
I thought for a moment before replying. "There must be something—a cell phone, maybe?"
Anna shook her head. "I lost mine in the plane crash." Her expression brightened as an idea struck her. "Wait—the wreckage! We could show them the plane. There's bound to be something there that proves we're telling the truth."
"That's a great idea," I agreed. "Let's talk to them tonight and take them to the wreckage tomorrow morning. It's getting dark now, but this can't wait much longer."