Kiyoshi spread the empty ledger on the stone table. The people from the slope arrived. The children from the Clan Grounds arrived. The helpers arrived too. A few dozen sat scattered about.
The white mourning banners had been taken down that morning. With the association being founded today, he wasn't sure how much ceremony it needed. The lintel stood bare. Someone quietly breathed a sigh of relief.
The sun slanted west. Shadows stretched.
"The Future Association." He read out the name.
Wind swept down from Back Mountain. It carried the scent of earth, of grass, of living people.
"One rule for the association." He turned to the blank page. "Once your name is written down, you belong here. If anyone goes missing, I'll find them myself."
Someone in the audience lowered their head and wiped their eyes with a sleeve.
A few dozen people, one line each. These were names he was happy to record. They felt more solid than all those fancy things in his drawer.
Old Sheng nodded in the corner. The old helpers said nothing, only shifting their stone stools closer.
"This table is yours now," Old Sheng said.
Kiyoshi glanced at him. "You keep the accounts. I'll watch over the table," Old Sheng added.
"From now on, there'll be more pairs of chopsticks at this table." One helper smiled. "Best if every seat is filled," he added.
Among those from the slope were people who had only dared return to the village last week. Most of the helpers were elderly, with rough hands and few words. The children weren't afraid. They gathered around the stone table as if around a new cooking pot.
One child stood on tiptoe. His chin barely reached the edge of the table. He saw the blank page and wondered whose names