Rain-Bell Lament
Threads of rain wove themselves into a net over heaven and earth. It was not a heavy rain, yet there was nowhere to hide from it.
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Threads of rain wove themselves into a net over heaven and earth. It was not a heavy rain, yet there was nowhere to hide from it.
Miyazaki Mio's eyelid twitched. It was the right one. The twitch felt ill-omened.
She did not know how much time had passed before she opened her eyes. The ladies-in-waiting and court physicians were all kneeling outside the door, mute as sealed cicadas.
The rainy season in Koya is long. In the weeks between late spring and early summer, the little lanes of blue brick and stone are always drowned in mist.
The skewers seller had fallen beside his charcoal brazier, and the coals at the roadside were still hissing out smoke.
That chalk-white ghost face. On a Saturday afternoon, still half asleep, I was dragged out of the house by Mio.
Kazufumi Asakura looked at me for a long time. When I didn't answer, he suddenly laughed. "So you can look frightened too?
Some girls, when they reach a certain age, sixteen or seventeen, say, suddenly grow beautiful, and the dim light they once gave off turns dazzling.