They met in the bamboo groves of Arashiyama on a Tuesday in November. Hiro had come to photograph the morning light. Aoi had come to be still. They occupied the same path without speaking for almost twenty minutes.

Then a sparrow landed between them. Aoi laughed softly. Hiro looked up. The photograph he took in that instant — of Aoi laughing, the bamboo behind her like brushstrokes — became the most important image he ever made.

He asked if he could send it to her. She gave him her address. He sent the photograph, and one letter, and then another. She wrote back every time.