The maple leaves in November burned like fire, a crimson so intense it was almost painful, much like the blood-stained gown of Lady Kamo.,The head of the household said to himself in jest, but he didn't find it very amusing.,The next day, when Kamo Kaede woke up, the smelly male owner had already left. Mrs. Kamo carried her back to the bedroom and, as usual, hummed a lullaby while holding her little daughter in her arms.。