The boat reached shore.
Shadows appeared on the shallows first.
One, two, dozens.
The shadows waded through the shallow water, their wet footprints overlapping all the way onto the bridge.
More boats followed, one after another.
Lamps hung from their bows, dim enough to light only the little patch beneath their feet.
Their steps churned the shallows muddy.
Torches followed behind.
One, then another, staining the lingering mist orange.
A short man led the way, his hands clasped behind his back.
His soles were too clean for someone who had crossed the mudflats.
He reached the middle of the bridge and stopped.
First he looked at the bridge, then at the people.
Before stepping onto the bridge, he had glanced toward its far end.
Someone should have reported to him from that direction.
Now there was nothing.
He did not wait.
Kiyoshi stood half a step back from the middle of the bridge, unmoving.
On the mental map in his head, he crossed out the column marked "shadows."
He replaced it with human figures.
Kiyoshi counted the people coming onto the bridge.
He stopped halfway through.
The mist had thinned at both ends of the bridge, revealing the row of trees on the opposite bank.
The newcomers neither shouted nor urged anyone on. Their footfalls kept a tight rhythm.
They did not spread out to either side, but formed ranks all the way to the center.
Shattered mirror fragments covered the bridge deck.
As the men walked over them, the fragments crunched all the way to the middle.
Those dozens of shadows filled this end of the bridge.
Kakashi knelt just left of center, one hand braced against the ground.
That hand had never stopped shaking.
His Forehead Protector sat crooked to one side.
His other hand hung limp against