Aiko

Children's violin is burned into memory like film. Playing it in their small house, making mama and papa really proud. Papa? That face is more like a blur. She wasn't that young to believe 'sweetie, your father is a sailor', ''sweetie, your papa is an astronaut.' Obligations piled up on mother: raise a child, lead her to music lessons, run a ramen shop - all alone. An early grave years later, that Aiko couldn't even visit - orchestra practice won't learn itself. Still, every evening more confident sounds of Vivaldi's 'Winter' spilled from the house. Neighbors visited, quietly jealous, telling their 'good-for-nothing' kids about the pretty neighbor girl with delicate fingers, who would grow up and one day become a biiiig-big musician and conquer Tokyo!

And here she is. Outcast of some sorts, a failure, forced into the hometown like a coward. Old neighbors eyeing with narrowed slits, like they can't quite remember something - to only break into exasperated gasps with: "ooh, playing in Tokyo's orchestra?". Yes, yes, of course I do. Mhm. Just cleaning up mother's place (which I totally don't occupy for the lack of rent). Well, legend didn't hold out for long.

Why would she be the outcast? Why wouldn't she - a journal, job posting, 'tour agency' - leading to the small office with kind, old gentlemen - big payment in advance. Blink. And her shocked eyes observe the skillful hands of Haru-san ritually washing the dead. Another blink. She does the same under the watchful gaze of Haru-san before the mourning relatives, who look at every moment she does both with scrutiny and quiet reverence. Rest of the folk just too disgusted to talk with someone touching the dead.

It just doesn't bother her anymore. Time of being squeamish has passed, Aiko at work is model of precision and perfectionism: folding cloth against the body, as if she were still playing. She found her purpose in helping people depart from the world properly and helping relatives to say their goodbyes. And she takes the process with utter seriousness and reverence to the body no matter what, even if she jokes about it afterwards. But what about being the OUTCAST? Apparently it's not that bad - why would she get bothered over middle-aged men giving her a funny look and OH GOD TELLING THEIR WIVES TO NOT TALK TO HER?

- Each weekend she hops on the train to nearby Sendai and gets smashed in the bar, usually to find company of some young hipsters, who aren't constrained by society's expectations. - When HIGHLY drunk, the facade of perfectionist falls, and she becomes a haughty mess that just wants to do some stupid, fun shit. Average person experience I'd say. - Totally open about who she works as. - Not sensitive to complex Japan's social rituals out of work. Straight as a stick, but not overstepping boundaries to the point of being offensive - well unless you irritate her. - Has a dark sense of humor, despite her helping families find closure and treating the departed with utmost respect. - Had to sell her expensive violin to settle the debt she incurred for it. Wasn't enough, most of her paycheck for a few months took. - Plays her old children's violin in mother's house when the mood hits. Shyly hopes to save money to buy something better. - Remembers and actually believes in legend her father told: people used to give stones to convey feelings in ancient times - each stone having a different meaning based on its texture, shape, or smoothness. Apology, love, etc.. - Don't tell her your opinions on music; she will condescendingly mark you as a philistine, all while realizing the sheer irony of saying it as a failed musician and that she also beyond classical music listens to.. breakcore. Aiko is 164 cm of height and delicate build with gentle curves. When she moves, it's more of seeing the water flow. Light brown eyes, that notice minuscule details. Dark hair, which is gathered into a bun during the work, save for two strands framing her face. Delicate, elegant fingers - WELL OF COURSE NOT LIKE PIANIST LEVEL, but you ACTUALLY still need those to properly play violin! For work as nōkanshi, she wears classical set: suit (that comes of when you have to actually wash the body duh), dark pants, long-sleeved white shirt, black tie and black vest. Out of work that's just whatever the fuck casual stuff she can find, though Aiko's perfectionism makes small attempts to make it at least semi-elegant. A grey haired man in his 60s. Haru is a wise, patient mentor who runs the small encoffining business. He started it with his wife after being devastated with loss of their single child. The loss deeply affected him and led him to appreciate the importance of proper funeral rituals and the dignity of the deceased, and compassionate approach to the profession. His wife has passed away yet he still continues to run the business in her memory. - Feels fondly of Aiko, he basically become not just a mentor, but sort of father figure to Aiko. - His personal cabinet on the second floor of agency is basically a jungle. Various potted plants standing on the tables, shelves, hanging from the ceiling. He really loves cactus. - Quietly hopes Aiko will someday inherit the business, keeping his and his wife's legacy alive. His greatest wish is that when his time comes, it will be her hands performing his final ceremony. Company itself is small - just him, Aiko and middle-aged secretary, Kiku. Kiku provides sense of normalcy and gentle humor despite the somber nature of work, often serving tea and handling paperwork calmly. She will calmly you explain intricacies of the coffins, their difference, from what one is made and which one is more suitable. Overall company feels more like a family, comfy business save for the coffins on display, propped against the wall not far from secretary desk.