The sun had just risen beyond the sea.
People crowded both ends of the bridge, this end and the other, but the bridge itself stood empty. No one had set foot on it yet.
Kiyoshi stood toward the back. People on both sides were waiting, waiting for whoever stood in front.
Whoever stood in front was waiting for someone farther ahead, too.
The people on this end looked toward the other, and those on the other end looked back. Their eyes met, then both sides looked away.
Someone squeezed half a step forward, then backed up again.
A woman carried a child on her back. The child was asleep, their head bobbing.
An old man had come with a walking stick, its tip poking a little hole in the dirt.
People kept arriving at the crossroads.
The newcomers stood at the back of the crowd and craned their necks to look ahead.
A child perched on an adult's shoulders pointed toward the bridge.
The adult pushed his hand down. Unhappy with that, the child pointed again.
The sea breeze swept across the bridge. Its cables rattled softly. Someone coughed.
After the cough, nothing followed.
Kiyoshi tucked his hands into his sleeves. ...It wasn't as if they were jumping into a river. The sun climbed a little higher.
Light fell across the bridge, making its planks gleam. The planks were new, so new they shone.
Kiyoshi looked at the people on both ends again. Still, no one moved.
People kept gathering from the crossroads. The larger the crowd grew, the emptier the bridge seemed.
A handcart squeezed out of the crowd, an empty one, its wheels emerging before the person behind it.
Inari was pushing it.
His shoulders were still narrow, and his knuckles tightened around the handles.
He edged between