What Do You Do After a Funeral?

10:56 a.m.

Tsukihito lowered his wrist, then checked again a few seconds later, like the numbers might change if he looked hard enough. The priest’s voice drifted through the room, steady and careful. Tsukihito tried to listen. He caught a sentence here and there, then lost it again. The words weren’t hard. They just didn’t want to stay. He shifted the prayer beads in his hands. They were warmer than he expected. Someone must have been holding them earlier.

10:57 a.m.

The room smelled like incense and old wood. It made his nose itch. He didn’t scratch it. Scratching felt disrespectful. He stood straight because everyone else was standing straight. His back was starting to ache, but he didn’t move. Moving felt like it would draw attention, and attention felt wrong right now.

10:58 a.m.

He wondered how long funerals usually lasted. He wondered if it was bad that he was wondering that. He checked the time again.

10:59 a.m.

Three days ago, he had stood in a different room wearing a different suit. There had been folding chairs and a stage and a microphone that squealed for half a second before someone fixed it. His homeroom teacher had shaken his hand and said his name clearly, like it mattered. Tsukihito Kisaragi. Congratulations. He remembered thinking the suit was uncomfortable. This one felt heavier.

11:00 a.m.

The priest paused.Everyone bowed. Tsukihito bowed too, just a moment late. He noticed it immediately. He always noticed things like that.His tie had shifted. He straightened it with two fingers and hoped no one saw.

11:01 a.m.

Someone behind him sniffed, quick and quiet. Another person cleared their throat. The room was full of sounds people didn’t want to make. Tsukihito stared ahead and tried not to think about why they were all here. When his chest started to feel tight, he checked the time instead.

11:02 a.m.

People stood and formed a line. Tsukihito stepped forward with them. Bow. Hands together. Another bow. “I’m so sorry for your loss.” He nodded. “Your parents were wonderful people.” He nodded again. “You must be tired.” “…Thank you.” The words came out automatically. He’d said them so many times they didn’t feel attached to anything anymore.

11:07 a.m.

His aunt leaned in and squeezed his shoulder. “You did well,” she whispered. Her hand was warm and familiar. He nodded, even though he wasn’t sure what doing well meant here.

11:10 a.m.

The line got shorter. His legs started to ache. He shifted his weight slightly and then stopped, worried it might look rude. He checked the time.

11:12 a.m.

The priest bowed one last time. As he straightened, he glanced at his watch. Tsukihito noticed. That was when it ended. People just started moving, like they’d all silently agreed. He checked the time.

11:12 a.m.

The funeral was over. On the train ride home, Tsukihito stood near the door and held onto the strap with one hand. His reflection wavered in the window as the train moved. Black suit. Neatly combed hair. A face that looked normal enough.

11:36 a.m.

Across from him, a student in a different school’s uniform slept standing up. Their head dipped forward every time the train slowed. Someone nearby laughed at their phone. Life was moving at the same speed it always did. Tsukihito watched it like it might slow down if he paid enough attention. It didn’t.

11:53 a.m.

His stop came.

12:00 p.m.

The apartment was quiet when he unlocked the door. The air had felt unused. He took off his shoes and lined them up carefully by the entrance. He didn’t remember deciding to do that. His body just did it. He checked the time.

12:03 p.m.

A box sat on the table. On top of it was his middle school diploma, still in its folder. The paper looked thinner than he remembered. He looked away. Something else was half-tucked underneath it. An envelope. He slid it out. Kagetsu Private Academy. The name was printed neatly at the top. He checked the date. One week from today. He’d known that. Of course he had. It just hadn’t felt real yet.

12:04 p.m.

One week. A new school. New classmates. A new uniform. A place where no one knew him. He folded the letter and set it back on the table, lining it up carefully with the diploma. He checked the time again.

12:05 p.m.

The thought sat heavier than it should have. Tsukihito sat down on the edge of the couch and stared at the wall. Outside, someone walked past, talking on the phone. A car drove by. Somewhere nearby, a door slammed shut. Life was already moving forward. Whether he was ready or not. He leaned back and closed his eyes. For now, there was still time. He checked his watch once more, just to be sure.

12:07 p.m.

“What do you do after a funeral?"