It's no use, all these words are useless.
But what can the guests do?
Is there anyone who can bring Mizuiro back?
"Thank you, Anzai."
Inutake didn't lose his composure and received Mr. and Mrs. Anzai just like he had other visitors who had come to mourn.
In a corner of the room, his wife Nanase was leaning her head on her mother-in-law's shoulder, both of their shoulders trembling.
They were probably crying again.
On a table in the hall, next to their son's casket, were placed yellow and white bouquets, and incense was burning.
The incense was blended by Inutake himself, a combination of agarwood, spikenard, sandalwood, clove, borneol, musk, and cyperus rotundus.
Mizuiro was still young and had just started to take an interest in the family's tradition of incense.
Sosuke remembered that Mizuiro liked this blend of incense that resembled falling leaves in its ethereal quality.
