Prologue

If you walk through the shopping district at the intersection of Teramachi Street and Sanjo Street, you will find a small antique store nestled in the rows of shops. Its name is simply Kura, meaning “storehouse.” The place feels more like an old-fashioned cafe than an antique store: a blend of Japanese and Western aesthetics reminiscent of the Meiji and Taisho eras. Jars, tea bowls, and other antiques are neatly arranged on the lines of shelves. There are also Western antiques such as tea sets, candlesticks, and bisque dolls.

I, Aoi Mashiro, first wandered into this store last March. An unexpected turn of events led to me working here, and it’s been a full year since I started. I was in my second year of high school back then, but now I’ve become a third-year.

Kiyotaka Yagashira—nicknamed Holmes—works there too. He’s a handsome young man with a slim build, pale skin, slightly long front bangs, and refined features. His nickname comes from his exceptional eye for observation and appraisal, his knack for appraisal, and the fact that his surname has the character for “home” in it. Right now he’s a grad student at Kyoto University. He’s also the grandson and apprentice of this store’s owner, the nationally certified appraiser Seiji Yagashira. He calls himself an appraiser-in-training, but even leading figures in the antiques industry recognize his skill. He’s also my mentor who teaches me all sorts of things about fine art. True to his appearance, he’s gentlemanly, kind, graceful, and well-mannered—but at the same time, he’s quite eccentric. He’s wicked at times, stubborn, and hates to lose. What’s more, he even has a bit of a black-hearted side. As you can see, he’s not very straightforward. I fell in love with this not-straightforward man, and after many twists and turns, we started dating just a week ago. Holmes is my boyfriend now...although I still find it hard to believe.

I glanced at Holmes, who was sitting at the counter. Feeling a smile coming on, I quickly looked away.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of a retro phone ringing. It was Kura’s landline.

Holmes picked up the receiver and said with a smile, “Hello, you’ve reached the antique store Kura. Oh, hello, dad.” His voice relaxed upon realizing that the caller was his father, Takeshi Yagashira, who we call “Manager.” Holmes’s relatives know that he always keeps his cell phone on silent at work, so when they need to talk to him, they call the store’s phone.

“The wooden boxes behind the counter?” Holmes turned around and opened the cupboard behind him. There were two boxes inside. “Yes, I see them. Both of them? All right. Bye, then.” He nodded and hung up.

What did the manager ask him to do?

Sensing my unspoken question, Holmes immediately said, “Ueda left things with my father again. He wanted me to appraise them.” He placed the boxes on the counter.

“Are these Ueda’s own things?” I asked.

“No, apparently they belong to the director of a client company, so there might actually be something worthwhile in here.” He smiled.

Ueda was an old friend of the manager. He ran several businesses, with his management consulting company being the main one. This meant that he had a lot of connections and was on friendly terms with managers of large corporations. He was smart and good at business, but unfortunately he had terrible judgment when it came to antiques. Most of the things he brought in for Holmes to appraise were forgeries. He was a poor connoisseur—but this time, the items belonged to a director he knew. This meant there was a chance that they were genuine.

“It’s been a while since our last study session,” Holmes said. “Shall we borrow what Ueda brought in to have one?” He placed his index finger in front of his mouth and smiled, his eyes narrowing into arcs.

“O-Okay.” I blushed slightly. That gesture of his was my weakness.

“I’ll make coffee. Please have a seat and wait.” He stood up, pulled a chair out for me, and went into the kitchenette to prepare the coffee.

I bowed and excitedly sat down at the counter. Holmes’s lectures about antique art began last summer break. At first they were fun, casual lessons, but since I showed so much interest, he became more enthusiastic in his teaching too. Our study sessions continued after summer break ended, and thanks to them, I had the opportunity to see many genuine works of art in a short period of time. I think my eyes are getting better too, bit by bit—but that’s only compared to other people my age. I’m still a fledgling. Then again...I’m sure I haven’t even caught up to Rikyu yet, and he’s younger than me.

Just when I was starting to feel a bit depressed, the scent of coffee tickled my nose.

“Why the long face?” Holmes asked, placing a cup in front of me.

“Oh, no, it’s nothing,” I said, shaking my head.

He sat down across from me and slipped on his white gloves, not pressing the matter. I took my non-slip appraisal gloves out of my apron pocket too and put them on.

Holmes carefully picked up one of the wooden boxes and opened the lid. Inside was a pale-colored tea bowl.

“Is that Kizeto ware?” I asked.

“Yes, it’s a Hakuan tea bowl.” He looked down at it, smiling happily.

“Hakuan...? What’s that?”

“Is this your first time seeing one, Aoi?”

“Yes, I just thought it was a Kizeto tea bowl.”

“That’s correct too—Hakuan is also called the Kizeto of Rikyu’s era. There are various theories as to how it came about, one of which is that it was an imitation of the pottery from Hoeryong, North Korea. The pieces were created in Mino Province, during the short time span from the Momoyama period until the early Edo period. Also, it’s said that the name ‘Hakuan’ came from Hakuan Soya, a medical officer of the Edo shogunate who was very fond of the tea bowls.”

“I see. This is authentic, right?”

“Yes, it is.” He looked back down at the tea bowl, which he was holding with both hands. “Hakuan tea bowls follow an old convention called the ‘Hakuan Ten Vows.’”

“What’s that?”

“It refers to a set of conditions that tea bowls, tea containers, and whatnot must meet. Hakuan’s ten vows are: one, loquat-colored; two, sea cucumber glaze on the body; three, a ‘crescent moon’ foot; four, fine wrinkles; five, pulpy clay; six, ripples; seven, a tea well; eight, minute cracks all over the surface; nine, an outward-curving lip; and ten, spots in the glaze. There are actually two other conditions—a ‘bamboo node’ foot and a glaze stain inside the foot—making for twelve vows in all.”

“Wow...” was all I could say in response. I looked down at the tea bowl. “This meets all of the conditions, right?”

“Yes, this is very clearly an authentic piece.” Holmes nodded, seeming satisfied. He gently put down the tea bowl and picked up the other box, which was tied with string. He held the box in one hand and carefully untied the string with the other. Since string deteriorates over time, Holmes taught me before that it’s dangerous to hold wrapped items by the string.

He opened the lid and his eyes widened. “This is...” he murmured, taking off his gloves to pick up the tea bowl with his bare hands.

I blinked in surprise. “Wh-Why did you take off your gloves?”

“Huh?” He looked at me. “Did I never tell you...?”

“A-About what?”

“Gloves are typically worn for appraising hanging scrolls and other works of art, but ceramics such as tea bowls are appraised without gloves.”

“Huh? But you always wore gloves before, right?”

“Yes, I kept my gloves on for things that didn’t require the sense of touch to appraise. This is because many customers dislike it when you touch their items directly. Since it’s not common knowledge that appraising ceramics requires taking off gloves, people often get upset and yell, ‘Why aren’t you wearing gloves?!’ Even when people leave their antiques here to be appraised, they sometimes specify to wear gloves. So as a general rule, I keep my gloves on to not hurt their feelings.”

Makes sense. I can see why someone would question it if he touched their precious tea bowl with his bare hands.

“One of the reasons why gloves aren’t worn when appraising ceramics is the risk of them slipping out of your hands, which is why I wear non-slip gloves,” he continued. “I can appraise most things that are brought in by their appearance alone—I don’t need to feel them. So it’s possible that you’ve never seen this happen before.”

I had heard that before—that Holmes and the owner could often determine something’s authenticity without touching it.

“But I make an exception when a ‘serious’ appraisal is needed,” Holmes said with a sharp look in his eyes.

What kind of piece is this? I wondered, looking at the tea bowl in his hands. It was whitish, and at first glance it seemed like Shino ware. Its foot was taller than any Shino tea bowl I’d seen, though, and its shape narrowed towards the bottom at an extreme angle.

“The shape is unusual, but it’s real,” Holmes said enthusiastically, gently cupping it in his hands.

“It’s a Shino tea bowl, right?”

“Yes, I believe it’s one of the pieces from the old kiln sites in the Ogaya district of Kani City in Gifu Prefecture. It’s a delight to be able to encounter a genuine one.” He smiled fondly. Authentic Shino tea bowls are rare. He must be truly happy. “You should take your gloves off and touch it too, Aoi. Learn this sensation with your fingers and palms.”

“Okay.” I quickly took off my gloves. Holmes gently placed the tea bowl on the counter in front of me. I gulped and wrapped my hands around it. It does feel similar to the Shino tea bowl we have in the store. This is what a real one feels like... Come to think of it, even in Holmes’s previous lectures, he told me to learn how tea bowls feel when touched directly. Now I finally know what he meant. I let the feeling sink into me and then repeated the process with the Hakuan tea bowl.

“Thanks to Ueda, we had a good lesson today, right?” Holmes said with a grin as he carefully placed the tea bowls back in their boxes and put them away behind the counter.

“Yes.” I nodded earnestly.

Holmes gently reached out and wrapped his hand around mine, startling me. The feeling of his long fingers and large palm on the back of my hand set my heart racing. I almost thought I was going to forget what the tea bowls felt like.

“It’s as if it’s human nature,” he murmured.

“Huh?” I looked up at him.

“When something is real and special, we want to touch it directly.” He looked at me passionately, and my head spun. “Aoi...”

“Y-Yes?”

“It’s your birthday next month, finally.”

I felt like I was suffocating—as if my heart had leapt into my throat. “Yes,” I said, nodding.

“I have an idea in mind for that day...”

“Y-Yes?”

Suddenly the door chime rang, and we quickly let go of each other’s hands.

“Welcome,” I said as I stood up and turned around. At the door was Seiji Yagashira, the store’s owner. He was dressed as stylishly as always, wearing a casual gray kimono, a navy blue haori jacket, and a white hat.

“If it isn’t the owner,” Holmes said, looking at him curiously.

“Hey, I came to put up a new scroll.” He took a paper tube out of the bag he was holding and pulled out the scroll inside. He unrolled it, revealing calligraphy that said “No PDA inside the store,” and taped it to the kitchenette wall.

Unbelievably embarrassed, I averted my eyes. In contrast, Holmes glared at him coldly. “What’s the meaning of this...?” he asked.

“It’s exactly as it says,” the owner said matter-of-factly, turning around to face us. “You and Aoi are finally dating, right?”

My face turned even redder.

“Yes, and?” Holmes said.

“If you were dating someone who was a complete stranger to me, I wouldn’t say nothing. But I run this place, and I’m the one who hired Aoi. That means I’m responsible for her when she’s here, in her parents’ place.”

“Right.”

“So as long as I live, I ain’t letting you use this store as your secret love nest.”

D-Did he have to phrase it like that? I couldn’t bring myself to look up at him.

“You didn’t have to come here just to warn us about that. We wouldn’t use a place like this as a secret love nest,” Holmes replied calmly, not changing his expression.

I facepalmed. Please stop calling it that!

“Your real thoughts are showing,” chastised the owner. “That means you’d do it somewhere that ain’t ‘a place like this.’ Listen here, kid—Aoi’s like a daughter to everyone right now. I ain’t letting a snake like you sink his poisonous fangs in her.” He stuck an index finger at Holmes’s forehead and peered into his face.

“Your real thoughts are showing too,” Holmes retorted. “You brought up her parents, but the truth is that you just don’t like it, right? Besides, I’m your grandson,” he said, his Kyoto accent leaking out. The owner’s ruthless words brought him back to his natural self. “You’re calling your own grandson a snake? Isn’t that awfully harsh?”

“I just don’t want to see a pure, sweet high school girl fall victim to the wicked wiles of a black-hearted man like you. Least not ’til she graduates. It’s my duty as your grandfather.”

“What kind of duty is that?! What do you think I am? Can’t you have more faith in me?”

“I wish I could, but you are dating a high school girl! You’re a lolicon! A danger to society!”

“No... Aoi’s a special case. I’m not a lolicon... She just happened to be five years younger. Even if she were five years older than me, my feelings would’ve been the same,” Holmes said weakly, putting his hands on his hanging head. Suddenly, he sprung up and said, “Wait, I don’t want to hear this from you. Aren’t you dating Yoshie, who’s over thirty years younger than you?”

“We’re both adults!”

“In that case, Aoi will be eighteen next month!”

I stood frozen in place, stunned by this absurd argument between grandfather and grandson.

The door chime rang again, and this time Rikyu burst in, shouting, “Owner!”

Rikyu Takiyama was the only son of the owner’s girlfriend, Yoshie Takiyama. He was one year younger than me, in his second year of high school, and a younger brother figure to Holmes. He was a beautiful androgynous boy who closely resembled his gorgeous mother. He fiercely admired Holmes, and I always felt awkward around him. Since he idolized Holmes so much, he couldn’t stand the thought of him going out with an ordinary girl like me.

Rikyu glanced at me and sighed loudly. “I heard the news, Aoi. You’re finally going out?”

“I-I’m sorry.” Even though it wasn’t something I had to apologize for, I couldn’t help but feel guilty.

“Eh, whatever. It was only a matter of time.”

Huh?

Rikyu handed the owner a rolled-up scroll. “Here, it’s the hanging scroll you asked Yanagihara for.”

“Oh, thanks for going to the trouble,” said the owner.

“No problem. His house is close by.”

The owner gleefully opened the scroll, which said: “Happiness is something that should be received, not sought. If you ask for something and receive it, that is pleasure, not happiness — Naoya Shiga.” I’d seen this writing before, in a room at the Tsukimiya inn when we went to the Kinosaki hot spring. It was a famous quote from Naoya Shiga.

“If you ask for something and receive it, that’s pleasure, not happiness,” the owner recited. “Fine words, eh? I asked Yanagihara for it so I could put it up in the store.” He hung the scroll up in a place that could easily be seen from the counter.

Holmes quietly clicked his tongue, looking annoyed.

“Oh yeah, Aoi,” the owner said, turning around.

“Y-Yes?” I instinctively braced myself.

“Despite what I said, I’m happy that you’ve gotten close with Kiyotaka. He’s a real handful, but take care of him for me, all right?” He bowed.

I hurriedly bowed back. “I-I’ll be relying on you too. Please forgive my inexperience.” The owner’s words slowly seeped into my heart, making me feel hot inside. I was really happy that he accepted our relationship.

“Anyway, your birthday’s next month, on May 3rd, right?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Constitution Memorial Day, eh? Very nice. So I’m thinking it’ll be fun to have a birthday party for you at our place on that day. We can celebrate you and Kiyotaka getting together while we’re at it.”

“What?!” I squeaked.

“Yeah,” Rikyu added immediately. “Let’s all celebrate your eighteenth birthday.” I never would’ve expected Rikyu of all people to say that.

“A-Are you sure?” I asked.

“Of course,” the owner said. “So don’t make any other plans for that night. We’re all gonna celebrate together. You can invite Kaori too.”

“Th-Thank you,” I said, voice trembling with joy. Suddenly, I remembered that Holmes was trying to say something about my birthday earlier. Maybe this is what he was going to tell me. “Ahh, I’m so excited... What should I wear?” Tears of joy welled in my eyes.

Meanwhile, Holmes wordlessly placed his hand on his forehead. “So much for that,” he murmured.

“Huh?” Not catching what he said, I turned around.

He smiled and shook his head. “It’s nothing. I’m glad you seem to be happy.”

“Yes, I am.” I didn’t feel like I deserved to have a birthday party at the Yagashira estate, but I truly was happy. Seriously, what am I going to wear? Heart pounding, I looked at the tabletop calendar. It was just under a month until my birthday.

I didn’t know yet that I was going to get caught up in a huge incident in that short time.