By Death United (A Saimatsu story)

Chapter 12

Contrary to Shuichi's incessant doubt, the investigation moved satisfactorily; leads and clues still proved wanting regarding the culprit, yes; but the business was proceeding at an acceptable rate, and were it not for the lack of footage of the culprit: would've been already solved. Consequently, the doleful part of the business had to be dirigated: the belated funeral; - desired by no one, but pursued with the usual dilatory vigour, nonetheless. The death was meant to be acknowledged; no more exhausting weeping, nor considerations of empty whatifs: the matter was to be finalised. 

An invitation to it fell into Shuichi's hands very soon. Sealed solemnly and with great care: must've been under Kaede's jurisdiction; and if not, then certainly overseen by her, as a small note was left within the invitation: direct and factually composed in tone, instructing him to arrive earlier. That didn't seize his curiosity for long. Vesture became the drawing concern: suits he had many, but the mourning standards wouldn't be met, for a black tie was missing; and his tie collection included navy blue at best and navy blue at least – no in betweens! Fortunately, his uncle had one, and was more than happy to give it to the youth, though not without courage-defying gaze lightning straight down at him; Shuichi quite sure that another dissuasive oration was to challenge him; but the old man nodded mysteriously, and left his side wordlessly: an excellent tie bequeather, but not so eager nuntius of morale! This change in conduct passed Shuichi's notice, and he quickly betook himself with donning the requisites; and was somewhat pleased with the result. After much modelling and preening in the mirror, he cringed at his behaviour, and concluded that mirror abusing wasn't for him. 

On the day of the funeral, less eager to engage with perfuming and mirroring, Shuichi left his house; reminding himself to keep necessary solemnities and grave expression customary for such occasions; but the note in his invitation imprinted a suggestive impression, and the affair seemed like a date sewed onto the funeral: quite inefficient if true, and the lovers likely to be caught in flagrante if his worries were warranted. Guilt built up within him, and, as he marched forth amidst violent gusts of wind speckled by sporadic drizzle coughed out by the clouds, he grew sickly, near bilious; walking made him breathless, and the whole world danced in dizziness. Strangers treated him with speedy perusals; betraying more sympathy than concern; so he surmised that the fault lied elsewhere, and once he thought so, he noticed a person on the other side of the street: eyeing him impudently, and with a strange calmness. Shuichi soon passed his gaze, and forgot about him straight after, though the man seemed familiar: perhaps another symptom of the sickness. 

The bilious dizziness calmed when he reached the place: where, besides a few cars scattered about the parking, the area breathed desolate; and were it not for the faint murmur escaping out of the building, he would've felt tempted to leave forthwith. 

Inside, the number of guests was smaller than expected: merely some, whom he supposed to be cousins along with the grandparents and the morose, taciturn father; Kaede herself standing away from the buzzing throng, and started up from her thought upon seeing Shuichi. Her dress was black, and only varied by a pearled necklace around her neck: humble, plain, and customary – very much against Shuichi's expectations, though the dress etiquette wasn't to be opposed in these circumstances. 

''Hello!'' She greeted him shyly, no doubt troubled by their secret, little amusement that didn't result in any formal establishment of girlfriendhood; but they loved each other, didn't they? So shouldn't the honeys, sweets, darlings, and other confectionary nicknames take their place? 

''Hi,'' he said, and discreetly took her hand: scared of love caught in flagrante, after all. ''You weren't in school for quite some time.''