"I'm glad to know you're not plotting wickedness," She said, entertained by how seriously Tami was taking all of this. With a dangling from her arm, she ruffled Tami's hair.
"But you don't need to worry -- I never really thought you were."

They walked a ways down the street by the river, until they came to a short little house with a wide, low blue-grey roof, set in a fairly large yard with a tall white fence. The house was raised slightly, from an age -- and it may have well, in design if not in details, been that age -- when the flooding of the river was a very real concern.

"Ah, here we are."

She went up to the front porch and opened the door (this is the sort of town where people do not lock their doors regularly), reached down to remove her shoes and put on some house slippers, and entered, gesturing for the rest to follow.

She paused in front of a small alcove and prayed silently, then -- hurrying a bit, with the burden of bags almost over -- down a hallway.

"The kitchen's this way, you can put the groceries in there."

The alcove she left behind, with them left in the entranceway with it, was a memorial. A stick of incense, which was not lit at just that moment, a few fresh flowers in a vase... And a picture with black ribbons around the corners of the frames. The photograph itself was of a white-haired man, somewhat tan from years out-of-doors, with thin-rimmed glasses and a warm, affectionate smile. The picture must have been taken at some formal occaison -- the man's shoulders, barely a part of the picture, had him in a nice-looking suit.\

Also in the entryway were two sets of cardboard boxes. The first set was open, empty, and neatly stacked inside one another. The other set were full, closed, sealed, and naturally disorganized. They had labels with things like "Old clothes" or "Children's toys" or "Books."

It seems things were happening at Hisano's house.

((Alright, one last round of posts before we switch scenes.))