That year in Kyoto, the snow fell more heavily than in any other winter.
Rows of tall buildings stood quietly in the inner city surrounded by red walls, silent, and the melted snow water dripped down along the corners of the eaves, dripping very regularly. On both sides of the street were freshly swept snow, with footprints left by naughty children playing around, overlapping like old ink pads, rotting in an inconspicuous corner.