On the morning of the funeral, Haruki arrived dressed in a black suit since he had refused to wear the black kimono Kiyoshi suggested he wore. He stepped into the room and all the mourning and crying seemed to seize at his entry.
The room smelled like sandalwood and chrysanthemums reminding Haruki of his grandfather's funeral. Then he had been so scared that he had pushed back all these little details but today he was attending the funeral as the head of a family as large as theirs even at his young age.
At the end of the tatami-matted hall stood a black lacquered altar adorned with white lilies, the portrait of his granduncle and his son, and two bowls of rice with chopsticks stuck upright. His granduncle looked dignified almost too innocent to have committed the crimes he paid for.
