Chapter 3: Human Emotions and the Sanjusangen-do Temple

1

After an unusual weekend of questioning people at a politician’s party, it was back to school, where reality awaited. The classroom was tense because of the upcoming tests. We’re preparing for entrance exams, after all. Now that people have decided on their target universities, it’s only natural that they might panic or be annoyed after comparing the requirements with their current grades. Even the top scorers seem to be on edge.

I’d always had average grades, but thanks to Holmes’s tutoring, I was able to rank up to “above average.” In some subjects, I was even encroaching on the top level. My teacher said that if I kept this up, I’d be able to aim for Kyoto Prefectural University. But the top scorers who were aiming for national schools or famous private universities were on a different level. I can’t imagine how great it’d be if I were as smart as them, but at the same time, they must have their own struggles. No matter where you stand in the hierarchy, every world has its own problems and hardships. I’m sure the student from the famous prep school who was arrested for possession of cannabis also had problems that only people with the highest grades would understand.

“Yeah, if your grades are too good, people probably put tons of expectations on you,” Kaori said. I’d been telling her my thoughts during lunch break.

“What about you?” I asked. Kaori’s grades are in the upper tier. She’s really smart.

“My family’s old-fashioned, so they think girls should just marry into a nice family. Heck, they even think that being too successful will delay marriage, so they don’t expect anything from me at all. Even when I get good grades, they don’t celebrate or anything. I’m only going to cram school because I begged them to let me go.”

“Th-That’s a bit depressing.”

“Right? But I guess it’s better than unrealistic expectations. You know how a lot of people in our generation don’t have many siblings? It means you get spoiled by your parents, but at the same time, they have higher expectations of you.”

“Yeah, it does seem that way.”

“It seems like there are a lot of people where it’s like, they got spoiled by their parents growing up, studied to get into a private middle school like their parents wanted, didn’t have to take high school entrance exams and thought they’d slide into university the same way, but now their parents expect them to get into a better school, so they hit a wall with the entrance exams and it really stresses them out.”

I nodded as I listened to her, feeling my facial expression become solemn. “You sure know a lot, Kaori.”

“A lot of people at cram school have that aura. Some of them are going to a weird seminar too.”

“A weird seminar?” I blinked.

Kaori frowned and tilted her head. “I think it was called a mental health support seminar?”

“What do they do there?”

“Oh right,” Kaori said, rummaging through her bag. “I got a flyer too and it’s still in my bag.” She placed the flyer on the desk.

Mental Health Support Seminar

“Is your heart screaming for relief?”

Do entrance exams, your career path, your parents’ expectations, and your personal relationships have your heart screaming for relief?

Something isn’t right with today’s society, but it’s not something that can be changed right away. Instead, in order to survive in this stressful world, we must soothe our overworked hearts. Reset everything to a blank slate and enter the battlefield refreshed.

Being able to perform this reset will have a great impact on your future life. At this seminar, we’ll teach you this form of mental control and how to be optimistic.

Adults: 3,000 yen

Students: First class free, second onwards is 2,000 yen

We urge you to try our seminar before your heart breaks down.

I skimmed the flyer and frowned. There was a picture of a waterfall and trees with fresh spring leaves on it.

I guess you could call this a “mental health support seminar,” but... “Th-This is sketchy.” My face stiffened.

“Yeah. It’s pretty cheap, though.”

I looked at the cost. “You’re right... Kaori, do you mind if I borrow this flyer?”

“Sure. Wait, are you going to go?” She looked worried.

Shocked, I shook my head. “No, that’s not it.” Something about it bothers me. I carefully put the flyer in my notebook and then put my notebook in my schoolbag. Three thousand yen for adults, two thousand yen for students with the first time being free. Like Kaori said, that’s cheap. It’s not a price you’d raise an eyebrow at. But am I the only one who feels something sneaky about this, like it’s not in good conscience?

2

“There’s something sneaky about this,” Holmes said immediately upon looking at the flyer.

Since I had work after school, when I arrived at Kura, I showed Holmes the flyer right away. He dismissed it without a moment’s hesitation. Maybe it’s because of his influence that I felt the same way about the flyer. I smiled awkwardly.

“It’s suspicious, right?” I asked.

“Yes, although it doesn’t say anything strange either. People with healthy hearts won’t resonate with this kind of seminar at all. Like you and me, they may think it’s suspicious and throw out the flyer. But people who truly need help will be moved by these words,” he said, placing the flyer on the counter and pointing at the phrase, “Is your heart screaming for relief?” “Then there’s the pricing. I suspect that the three-thousand-yen fee for adults is just for show. Their target is students, and an adult coming would be considered lucky. If they only wrote ‘free for students,’ then it really would be suspicious, because something like this shouldn’t be free. That’s why it says three thousand yen for adults, and two thousand yen for students from the second class onwards. This makes it seem like a good deal, and it gives the targets a sense of security knowing that even if they try it and end up going for more classes, it’ll only be two thousand yen.”

“You’re right,” I said, picking up the flyer.

“That said, there’s a higher likelihood that the low price is simply out of goodwill. But perhaps because of the recent bad news revolving around students, I can’t help but scrutinize it.” He picked up the flyer again and looked at it coldly. After a while, he put it on the scanner and opened his laptop.

“Who are you sending it to?”

“Komatsu.”

“I see.”

After sending the scan, Holmes smiled and said, “It’s in Shijo. I think I’ll go take a peek.”

“You mean the seminar?”

“Yes, I’m thinking of attending.”

“Can I come too?” I asked without thinking.

Holmes frowned slightly.

“I-I guess I can’t, huh?” I said.

“I’m not saying that you can’t. I don’t think it’d be dangerous, and I’d also like to get the opinion of a current high school girl.”

“Then why didn’t you answer right away?”

“That’s because in a situation like this, I get the feeling it’d be better not to attend as a couple.”

“Oh, you’re right.” It’d be strange for a couple to attend a seminar for people who need mental health support.

“So we’d be sitting apart from each other, and we might not be able to talk much. Would you still be all right with that?” Holmes asked with an apologetic tone.

I nodded. “I don’t mind.”

Suddenly, I heard footsteps outside followed by Kura’s door opening with the usual chime. I turned around.

“Hey,” Komatsu said, holding up one hand.

“Ah, I just sent you an email,” Holmes said.

“You did?”

“Yes, there was a flyer for a seminar that caught our eye.”

“Oh,” Komatsu said, sounding rather uninterested. He walked up to the counter and sat down. “I looked into Kuro Amamiya’s other son—in other words, Shiro’s younger brother.” He took a brown envelope out of his bag and gave it to Holmes.

“Thank you. So he did have a younger brother, then?” Holmes took out the investigation report and smiled, narrowing his eyes into arcs.

“Yeah, one of those so-called bastard children... He’s not publicly acknowledged and they pretend he doesn’t exist, but he seems to be getting financial support.”

“I see. His name is Hiro Haraguchi, his mother is a hostess at a high-class club in Namba, and he was raised in Osaka. He’s currently twenty-one and unemployed...” Holmes looked at the man’s picture. “Ah. He’s even more handsome than Shiro.”

“Yeah, apparently his mom’s a famously beautiful hostess, so he probably gets his looks from her.”

Listening to their conversation, I frowned. At a glance, Kuro Amamiya had only looked like a nice middle-aged man to me. I can’t believe he had an illegitimate child. I peeked at the report and saw that Hiro really was handsome like Holmes said.

“For Representative Amamiya, Hiro was a thorn in his side. He was a wild kid in middle and high school, and he joined a biker gang. He was on the verge of being sent to juvie. The older brother, Shiro, was the one who cleaned up that situation.”

“I see. That may have been why Shiro returned from America. So, is Hiro truly unemployed right now?”

“Yeah, but he’s doing better than you’d ever believe. Shiro’s probably taking care of him.”

“Do many people know that Amamiya has an illegitimate child?”

“Doubt it.”

“I see. Still, considering that he’s moving into the heart of politics despite having a scandalous secret, Shiro most likely has his problematic younger brother completely fenced in,” Holmes murmured, folding his arms.

“I also have one more piece of news.”

“What is it?”

“I found eight more victims in the thieving case.”

Holmes raised his eyebrows. “Which means that there are twelve in total?”

“Amamiya withdrew his case, so it’s eleven.”

“No, I’m not counting that one out,” Holmes said immediately.

“Oh yeah?” Komatsu gave an exaggerated shrug. “Here’s the new list of victims and what was stolen.” He took a clear folder out of his bag and gave it to Holmes.

List of Stolen Items (owner in brackets)

Shuei Akutagawa:

Hanging scroll depicting General Mekira (Kazuo Miyamura)

Hanging scroll depicting General Anchira (Hajime Tanaka)

Seppu Nakamura:

Tapestry depicting General Sanchira (Tadashi Mino)

Tapestry depicting General Haira (Hiroshi Kawaguchi)

Takashi Katahira:

Wood carving of General Makora (Shinichi Yamaguchi)

Crystal ornament depicting General Shindara (Mokichi Segawa)

Copper ornament depicting General Shotora (Ryo Tachibana)

Ryo Tokimune:

Hanging scroll depicting General Bikara (Shogo Imagawa)

Holmes looked at the list and murmured, “I see.”

“There could still be more, though, so I’ll keep looking.”

“Thank you. However, from looking at this list, I think the thefts will stop at these twelve.” Holmes placed the list on the counter.

“What makes you think that?” Komatsu looked completely confused. I had no idea what he meant either.

“Do the stolen items have anything in common besides being Buddhism-related?” I asked, peering at the list.

“Yes, but it’s not enough to draw a conclusion yet,” Holmes said, furrowing his brow.

“Oh right,” Komatsu said, clapping his hands. “Apparently all of them were made at the same time, after the artists were inspired by the Buddhist statues at Sanjusangen-do Temple.”

“Sanjusangen-do, huh...?” Holmes folded his arms.

“There was some kind of get-together for modern artists. They all went to Sanjusangen-do together, then made their own pieces and held an exhibit. That was five years ago, and those were the pieces that were stolen in this case. Apparently that ‘Beautiful World of Buddhism’ exhibit happened because they wanted to bring those works of art together again after five years.”

“And so Amamiya, who owned many of them, became a sponsor?”

“Yeah. Yutaka Kunishiro and Shuei Akutagawa are close with him, so they brought up the idea.”

“Ah, Akutagawa...”

“You know him?”

“We aren’t close, but I’ve met him before. Since Amamiya, Kunishiro, and Akutagawa seem to have been heavily involved with this exhibit, I’d like to meet with Akutagawa again and ask him some questions,” Holmes murmured, looking at the list. “Oh right.” He looked up. “Komatsu, I’d like to speak with Yuko’s mother—your ex-wife—as well. Would that be all right?”

I saw Komatsu gulp.

“Is there some kind of problem?” Holmes asked. “Is she feeling unwell from the anxiety?”

“N-No, that ain’t it. The problem is that you’re a monster, kid.” Komatsu averted his eyes.

Holmes gave a strained laugh. “What?”

Komatsu was probably afraid that if he let Holmes meet his ex-wife, Holmes would find out things about him. Even though it’s the logical choice, he might feel reluctant.

“But...there’s a chance that she’s lying, so I do want you to talk with her. I’ll ask her if she can meet you.” Komatsu bowed, as if having made up his mind.

Holmes waved his hand. “Please don’t take it too seriously. It’ll just be a chat.” He smiled gently.

3

The next day, after school, I headed towards Higashiyama-ku on my bike. I turned south at the Higashiyama-Gojo intersection. Since there was an uphill slope, I suddenly felt short of breath and slowed down. As I pedaled, a lovely brick building came into view. It was the Kyoto National Museum, a magnificent building in the style of the French Renaissance that looked like a palace. I looked at it as I passed by, still out of breath.

I smiled upon arriving at a sign that said “Sanjusangen-do Temple.” This was my destination. Holmes should already be here.

Holmes had contacted Akutagawa, and apparently they arranged to meet at Sanjusangen-do at 4:30 p.m. Sanjusangen-do was a fairly well-known Buddhist temple, but I’d never been there before, so I ended up tagging along. The name means “thirty-three ken,” with “ken” being a traditional unit of measurement for buildings.

It’s exactly 4:30 p.m. now. I walked my bike into the parking area, still trying to catch my breath.

“You made it, Aoi.” Holmes appeared and handed me a sports drink.

“Th-Thank you.” He’s always so well prepared, or should I say, attentive. The cold drink felt like it was spreading through my body as I drank.

“It was quite steep from your school to here, right?”

“Yes, but it was good exercise and I’m not that tired. It’s my first time coming to Sanjusangen-do Temple, so I’m excited for that.”

“I’m surprised you’ve never been here before. I thought you would’ve come here during your school trip.”

“It’s one of the typical sightseeing spots, right? One of the other groups came here, but not mine.”

We entered the temple grounds and Holmes stopped in front of the long main building. “This is Rengeo-in Temple, commonly known as Sanjusangen-do Temple. This splendid main building with the gabled roof is a hundred and twenty meters north to south, making it the longest wooden building in the world.”

“In the world?” I blinked. I did think it was long, but I didn’t think it’d be the longest in the world.

“By the way, the ‘thirty-three ken’ doesn’t refer to the building’s length—it represents the number of intervals between its support columns. If it referred to the building’s length, then it’d be ‘Rokujurokugen-do’ instead—sixty-six ken.” He chuckled.

“Right...”

“Sanjusangen-do was founded in the second year of the Chokan era—in other words, 1164—by Taira no Kiyomori for the cloistered Emperor Go-Shirakawa. Since Taira no Kiyomori shouldered the construction costs and enshrined a thousand Kannon statues in the main building, the temple was also called ‘One Thousand Kannon Hall at Hojuji-dono Temple,’” Holmes explained with ease as usual. Hojuji-dono was the temple where the cloistered Emperor Go-Shirakawa lived. “At the time, the temple was an impressive complex with a five-story pagoda and a hall dedicated to Fudo of the Five Wisdom Kings. However, everything was lost to a fire in the first year of the Kencho era. The current main building was rebuilt in the third year of the Bun’ei era, or 1266 in the Gregorian calendar.”

“It’s existed for that long, huh?” I said, impressed.

We entered the main building and I stopped in my tracks, awed by the one-thousand-and-one Kannon statues lining the one-hundred-and-twenty-meter-long hall. I was at a loss for words.

Holmes chuckled and said, “It’s intense, right? Even excited students on field trips fall silent when they enter this building.”

“I-I totally understand. It feels like a different world.” I walked slowly, feeling intimidated by the divine atmosphere. “It really is incredible.”

“Indeed, and look, there are statues of Fujin and Raijin, the gods of wind and thunder, on opposite ends of the hall. It’s speculated that Sotatsu Tawaraya modeled his famous painting of Fujin and Raijin after these.”

The Fujin and Raijin statues sat atop very detailed clouds. Raijin stood on a cirrus cloud beating his thundering drums, while Fujin glared into the hall with his bag of wind around his shoulders. The glint in their eyes was so sharp that it felt like they could spring to life at any moment.

As you’d expect from a famous temple, there were other impressive sights too, like the twenty-eight statues of Kannon’s followers.

“These Kannon statues are placed precisely so that you can see each and every one of their faces. There’s a mysterious saying, ‘Whoever you wish to see, their face will always be among the Kannon statues.’ When I heard that as a child, I came here by myself,” he said as if to himself, looking up at the statues.

“Was there someone you wanted to see?”

“I thought I’d be able to see...my late mother’s face. I didn’t know which face was hers, but I remember being healed by the sight of the compassionate Kannon.” He smiled gently.

I felt a pang in my chest. He must’ve been lonely. Feeling tears begin to well up, I looked down.

“Hello, Akutagawa,” Holmes called out to a man who was staring solemnly at the statues. The man was nearing old age and wore a white linen shirt with a stand-up collar and indigo pants. His Asian fashion style gave him a unique aura.

The man turned around and smiled warmly. “Hey, Kiyotaka.”

We left the main building with Akutagawa and sat down on a bench.

“I’m fond of Sanjusangen-do,” he said. “I often come here to gaze at the statues.” He lifted the cap of his water bottle and drank.

“I heard that you got the inspiration for your Vayu hanging scroll from Sanjusangen-do,” Holmes said.

“Yes, and it wasn’t just me. I came here with Kunishiro, Katahira, Murakami, Tokimune, and Nakamura. We aspired to create something that would last for generations... In my case, my specialty is painting, and I like Vayu—the deification of wind—very much, so I wanted to use him as my subject.”

“It seems to be a very important painting to you. How did you end up selling it to Yanagihara?”

“Oh, well, Yanagihara came to my house, and when he saw the painting, he said he wanted it at any cost. I thought that handing it over to a famous appraiser would get it seen by more eyes than if it’d stayed with the creator. Besides, artists are typically strapped for cash.” Akutagawa scratched his head, embarrassed. I bet that was the main reason, I thought.

After that, Holmes asked Akutagawa a few more questions. We thanked him for his time and left the temple.

4

That night, Yuko’s mother, Masami, came to Kura. It was at 7 p.m., right before closing. She opened the door and called out a greeting, probably feeling too out of place to come inside.

“Welcome,” Holmes said, standing up and walking up to her. “Are you Yuko’s mother? We’ve been waiting for you.”

“Yes, my name is Masami Hasegawa.” She straightened her back as if pulling herself together. At first glance, she looked like a career woman. She wore a white shirt and black suit pants. She seemed to have good fashion taste, perhaps because of the stylishness of the simple outfit. I also sensed a strong will from her dignified aura and firm gaze.

“Hello, my name is Kiyotaka Yagashira. Your daughter resembles you a lot, I see.”

I nodded. Though I’d only seen Yuko in photographs, she looked startlingly similar to her mother. You could even call them carbon copies.

“Yes, I hear that a lot,” she said with a gentle smile. Holmes’s calm aura probably relaxed her nerves.

“Please have a seat,” Holmes said, pulling a chair out. “I’ll make coffee.” He then looked at me and said, “Aoi, it’s a bit early, but please put up the ‘CLOSED’ sign.”

“Okay.” I quickly went outside, brought in the standing sign, and put up the one that said “CLOSED.” I put away the standing sign and closed the curtains.

The scent of coffee drifted through the now-closed store. Yuko’s mother, Masami Hasegawa, sat in front of the counter and took a sip of the coffee Holmes brewed. “It’s delicious,” she said, exhaling. She seemed to truly think so.

I was drinking coffee too, at the end of the counter. Hearing someone praise Holmes’s coffee made me feel happy for some reason.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Holmes said. “Did you just finish work?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you for coming here after a long day, then.” He smiled gently.

She smirked self-deprecatingly and looked down. “I’m a demon of a mother, right? My daughter ran away from home and I’m continuing to work as if nothing happened.”

“No, not at all. However, that means you believe that Yuko’s disappearance is only ‘running away from home.’”

She looked back at Holmes, bewildered. “What do you mean by that? She left her phone and a letter behind, and she packed her things before leaving, you know? That has to mean she ran away from home, right?”

“Perhaps, but did you not think about the criminal nature of the event?”

“Criminal nature...?”

“What did you think about your sixteen-year-old daughter entering a relationship with an adult man?”

Masami shrugged weakly. “It’s embarrassing to admit, but when I was in high school, I dated a man in his thirties. So I didn’t really see it as a problem.”

“A man in his thirties when you were in high school...?”

“Y-Yes, he was a teacher at my cram school. I’ve always been into older men...although my previous husband, Komatsu, was the same age as me.” She said it in a tone that implied that was the reason their marriage didn’t work out, and I couldn’t help but give a strained smile.

Still, there’s also Yoshie, the owner’s girlfriend and Rikyu’s mother. There might be a lot of women in this world who like much older men. Come to think of it, Holmes and I are five years apart too.

After a moment of silence, Holmes looked firmly into her eyes and said, “Seeing you like this, I sense even less resolve from you than her father, Komatsu. You seem as if you’ve given up.”

“What?”

“You don’t seem hopelessly anxious or worried.”

“Are you criticizing me?”

“No. It means that you argued with your daughter enough to feel this way, right?” He looked at her sympathetically.

Masami froze.

“Yuko was smarter and more levelheaded than the average sixteen-year-old, and most importantly, she didn’t stray from her beliefs,” Holmes continued. “Did you think, ‘If she made up her mind to leave, then there’s nothing I can do’?”

Masami’s eyes widened. She stared at him for a while, clearly baffled as to how Holmes could’ve known that.

“But what was the last straw that made Yuko run away?” he asked.

Masami flinched.

“Considering how much you fought before, I’d think that there was something that cemented her decision to leave. Did you perhaps bring up the topic of remarrying...?”

Masami shook her head with a bitter expression on her face. “It didn’t have anything to do with remarrying. I made a big mistake.”

A mistake? I frowned.

“After divorcing Komatsu, I decided I wasn’t cut out for marriage and had no intention of remarrying. I still feel the same way...” she murmured softly.

Holmes silently nodded.

“But despite having no desire for marriage, I did want love. That was when I met my current boyfriend.” Her next words came very quietly: “He’s married.” That must’ve been hard to say.

Holmes nodded, as if he’d suspected as much. “Yuko didn’t know that you were having an affair, then.”

“Yes.”

“Was he someone she knew?”

“Yes...her cram school teacher.”

I goggled at her in surprise.

“And Yuko found out, right?” Holmes asked.

“Yes... She was staying over at a friend’s house, so I called him to my house. We always have to meet in secret, so having the house to ourselves put us in a very liberated mood, and we spent the day like a young couple would. Then, Yuko suddenly came home...” She clammed up.

Holmes silently nodded, while I gaped in shock. If I came home and saw my mother doing the deed with my married cram school teacher, I’d want to run away too.

“Did you tell Komatsu this?” Holmes asked quietly.

Masami shook her head. “I didn’t. I couldn’t. Yuko kept spouting things like, ‘You’re filthy, this is immoral, get out,’ and I wasn’t in a position to complain, but she even said terrible things that had nothing to do with the situation. I said, ‘Why should I have to leave? This is my house,’ and she screamed, ‘Then I’ll leave!’”

Then Yuko packed her bags and left. I guess it’s understandable that Masami gave up on her coming back.

After a while, Holmes said quietly, “Masami, have you met your daughter’s boyfriend?”

Masami silently shook her head.

“Have you seen his face in pictures on her phone or from photo booths?”

She smiled wryly and shook her head again. “She said he was avoiding taking pictures with her because she was working as a model. She was always talking about how considerate he was of her career...”

“And you thought the same way?”

Masami nodded, embarrassed.

“You didn’t think it was strange?” Holmes asked, maintaining his calmness but slightly lowering the tone of his voice.

Masami must’ve felt the pressure in his tone, because her face went pale. “At this point, I do find it strange. But back then, she had me convinced that he was a good person...”

“He was the kind of man who’d go to a middle school girl, lead her into a relationship, and give her a Hermès bag. Wouldn’t it have been better to be suspicious and meet him in person? If she was constantly telling you that he was a good person who cared about her, that might’ve been because she was trying to reassure herself.”

I nodded without thinking. I don’t tell my parents about how good Holmes is, because I don’t have any doubts about him.

“That night, Yuko said she was staying at a friend’s place, right? Did she say who it was?” Holmes asked in a slightly softer tone, seeing Masami hang her head.

“She said it was a classmate.”

“Why did she suddenly come home?”

Masami shook her head. “I don’t know. She suddenly came back, saw us, and went ‘What’s the meaning of this?’ The fight went on from there...” She looked down, grimacing.

“I heard that Yuko was a loner at school. She probably didn’t go to stay at a friend’s place.”

“Huh?”

“She planned to stay at her boyfriend’s place, but that got canceled for some reason. To think that it’d happen to be the same day that you brought your secret boyfriend to your house... Don’t you think that’s an incredible coincidence?” Holmes said coldly.

Masami’s eyes widened and she nodded. I felt chills run down my spine.

Holmes furrowed his brow and put his hand on his chin. “Hopefully it’s only a coincidence.” He sighed and looked at her. “Masami, Komatsu is more worried about Yuko than you are. Do you know why?”

“A-Are you saying that I didn’t love her? I know I made a mistake, but I did love her! Komatsu didn’t even spend time with her!” Masami shrieked hysterically.

Holmes’s expression remained calm. “It’s not a matter of love. Komatsu is a man, so he knows how nasty a man’s desires can be. He can’t help but be terrified of what Yuko could be going through.”

Masami gaped. The store fell silent, aside from the ticking of the clock. She looked down and tears trickled down her face. “I’m such a stupid mother,” she murmured softly.

Holmes reached for his inner pocket to take out his handkerchief, but froze. He stared at Masami’s face.

“H-Huh?” Masami said, confused.

Holmes leaned in closer and peered into her face. “Sorry, but have we met before, Masami?”

“Huh?”

“When I saw Yuko’s picture, I felt as if I’d seen her before. But now I realize that it may have been you, not Yuko.” Holmes finally took out his handkerchief and offered it to Masami.

“N-No, I think this is the first time we’ve met.”

“Have you ever attended an art-related event or party?”

“Yes, several times. For networking, because I work for a publishing company.”

“I see. Perhaps I saw you at one of those, then. Sorry about that,” Holmes said with a gentle smile. He seemed unconvinced, however.

“Um, what should I do now?”

“Let’s see... Please tell everything that happened to the police officer in charge of the case. Your desperation may change their impression from ‘a rebellious girl running away from her mother’ to ‘a grave incident.’”

“Okay... I will.” Masami nodded firmly with a serious look on her face.

◆　◆　◆

Right outside Karasuma Station is the Shijo-Karasuma intersection. It’s a fairly metropolitan area, surrounded by a shopping mall and the stone-built city bank, but when you look out at Shijo Street, which leads to Yasaka Shrine, it definitely feels like Kyoto.

Katsuya Komatsu headed west on Shijo Street and entered a certain cafe. It was dinnertime, and since the cafe didn’t have much in the way of food on its menu, there were fewer customers than usual. He saw a young man, around university age, sitting by the window, and walked up to him. “Are you Kikuchi?” he asked quietly.

The man looked up and said, “Yes.” He was tall and thin—almost too thin—with short black hair, glasses, a white shirt, and jeans. He seemed like a very diligent university student.

“Sorry for calling you out here,” Komatsu said, sitting down across from him.

Kikuchi shook his head. “It’s all right.”

“Let me reintroduce myself. I’m Komatsu, a detective. As I said on the phone, I’m investigating the Shirasaki case. You were Shirasaki’s private tutor, right?”

Kikuchi nodded. Shirasaki was the prep school student who’d been arrested on cannabis charges the other day.

Once Komatsu’s coffee arrived at the table, he leaned in, getting right into the questioning. “When did you become Shirasaki’s tutor?”

“A year and a month ago.”

“What led to it?”

“I was registered in Kyoto University’s private tutoring program.”

“I see. So if it was a year and a month ago, you started at the beginning of last spring.”

“Yes.”

“Was Shirasaki a good student?”

“Yes, very good.”

“Did he ever reveal his concerns to you?”

“No.”

“Oh, so you didn’t make idle talk?”

“Almost never. I focus on teaching, and I try not to get involved on a personal level.”

Komatsu relaxed slightly, realizing that Kikuchi was saying the bare minimum without hesitating. The man was smart and wary. “What did you think when Shirasaki was arrested?”

Kikuchi clammed up for the first time. “It was...shocking.”

“Was it unexpected?”

“Yes. But ever since about half a year ago, I did think something was strange.”

“How so?”

“He used to have a plain room, but he suddenly started decorating it.”

“With what?”

“Oriental things, like a mandala tapestry and an ornament of Sakra. He was burning incense too. It was a surprising change of interests.”

“Oriental, huh?” Komatsu jotted down what Kikuchi said. Suddenly, he looked up and asked, “Do you remember what the Sakra ornament was like?”

“It was made of copper, and he was on an elephant with his legs crossed.”

What if...? Komatsu gulped as he continued to take notes. “How big was it? Can you tell me everything you remember about it?” he asked, leaning forward.

“Uh, okay?” Kikuchi said, confused.

5

“There was a Sakra ornament in that student’s room...” Holmes remarked, holding his phone to his ear.

We’d been walking on Teramachi Street towards Shijo when his phone rang, so we stopped and moved aside to avoid blocking the way for pedestrians. Though it was nighttime, the shopping street was still crowded, perhaps because we were close to Nishiki Market. It was a different type of crowd, though.

I looked up at Holmes as he talked on the phone. It’s probably Komatsu on the other end. He was saying that he met a cram school teacher at the party and used that connection to arrange a meeting with the arrested high school student’s private tutor. That meeting was today, so he must’ve just finished.

“I understand. When it arrives, I’d like to have Murakami check it. Yes. Thank you, bye.” Holmes hung up the call and looked at me.

“Was that Komatsu?” I asked.

“Yes. Apparently there was a Sakra ornament in that high school student’s room. According to Komatsu, it could be one of the stolen items.”

“R-Really?”

“It’s a bit of a forced connection, but the possibility exists. It’s been in his room for half a year, so the time frame matches up too.”

“Wh-What are you going to do?”

“Komatsu explained the situation to the tutor and asked if he could take a picture of the ornament. The tutor agreed.”

“So when you get the picture, you’ll show it to the original creator?”

“Yes, which would be Murakami.”

We exited the shopping arcade onto Shijo Street.

“But if it really is the stolen piece, does that mean the high schooler stole it?” I asked.

“I’m not sure. Apparently that was the only one he had in his room. I don’t know who originally stole it, but I suspect that the other pieces are in the hands of other people.”

“So in other words, the twelve pieces are with twelve different people?”

“Yes, that’s what I think. They’re likely playing pretend.”

“As what?”

“The Twelve Divine Generals,” Holmes said, smirking.

“What’s that?” I looked up at him, tilting my head.

“The Twelve Divine Generals are devas—which is a general term for beings that dwell in heavenly realms. These deities...” Holmes began explaining.

The Twelve Divine Generals are: General Indara (Sakra), General Kubira, General Basara (Kongo Rikishi), General Anira (Vayu), General Mekira, General Anchira, General Sanchira, General Haira, General Makora, General Shindara, General Shotora, and General Bikara. They are the guardian deities of Yakushi Nyorai, the Medicine Buddha, protecting the twelve hours, months, and directions in correspondence with his twelve vows. They are also gods of military arts.

“Each divine general commands seven thousand followers,” Holmes said.

“Wow... But then, what do you mean by pretending to be them?”

“I can’t say for certain yet, but I have a terrible feeling about this.”

He’s probably still in the process of putting together his hypothesis.

We walked in silence for a while until we saw the building where the seminar was. Komatsu was standing near the entrance and raised a hand when he saw us. “Hey.”

“What are you doing here, Komatsu?” I asked, surprised. He was just on the phone with Holmes.

Komatsu slumped his shoulders and said, “After we hung up, I saw this and came rushing over on the subway.” He took out a small tablet and showed it to Holmes. There was a list of seminars on it.

“This is a list of self-development seminars, right?” Holmes asked.

“Yeah, I looked into seminars in Kyoto and this was the only one that started about a year ago. It’s also mainly targeted at students... It sounds shady, so I’ll join in too,” Komatsu said with a serious look.

Holmes nodded happily. “That would be reassuring. However, I’d ask that the three of us act like strangers from this point onwards. When the seminar is over, we’ll meet at that cafe right there.” He motioned with his eyes towards the building across the street. Komatsu and I nodded.

6

Holmes, Komatsu, and I entered the building at different times. When I got out of the elevator, I saw what looked like an office’s conference room with a sign that said “Mental Health Support Seminar” in front. There was also a gentle-looking woman in her twenties standing at the check-in desk.

“Welcome, and thank you for coming,” she said. “May I have your name?”

“Um, Aoi Mashiro.” I’d registered for the seminar online in advance.

The woman checked off my name on her list, smiled, and said, “For students, the fee is waived for the first session.”

“Thank you,” I said, bowing automatically.

“Please go inside. While you’re waiting, we’d like you to fill out this form.” She smiled and handed me a form as well as a booklet for the seminar.

“Thank you.”

As I entered the room, Komatsu arrived. With an exaggerated air of timidity he said, “Sorry, I’m not registered, but I saw this flyer and suddenly felt like coming. Is that okay?”

From the hallway the room looked like a conference room, but when I went inside, it turned out to be more like a cram school classroom. There were eight rows of long white tables on the left and right sides of the room. Each table could easily seat three people, but had only two chairs set up, making for sixteen in total. The front rows were already occupied.

“Please sit as close to the front as you can,” said one of the staff members. Following instructions, I sat in the center aisle seat of the fifth row from the front on the window side. Holmes was in the center aisle seat of the fourth row, on the side closer to the hallway—in other words, he was diagonally in front of me. Komatsu sat in the seventh row, having apparently obtained permission to join the seminar.

After seeing that Komatsu had entered, I looked at Holmes again. He noticed my presence but didn’t try to look at me. His expression was indifferent, as if we really were complete strangers. It made me a bit sad, but at the same time, I was impressed.

Holmes was already filling out the form, so I hurriedly took out a pen.

Do you feel sluggish or tire easily?

No / Sometimes / Often / Always

Are you more sensitive to noise than you used to be?

No / Sometimes / Often / Always

Have you felt depressed recently?

No / Sometimes / Often / Always

Do you enjoy listening to music?

No / Sometimes / Often / Always

Do you feel the most lethargic in the morning?

No / Sometimes / Often / Always

Are you able to engross yourself in discussions?

No / Sometimes / Often / Always

The form continued like that, with around twenty questions in all. The other questions involved things like having trouble sleeping, getting headaches, and strained personal relationships.

After I answered all of the questions, the staff came to collect the form. I looked around and saw that the classroom was now mostly full. Two-thirds of the people were high school students, and there were also a lot of middle-aged men that looked like office workers, so Komatsu didn’t stand out.

At 7 p.m. sharp, the door opened with a clack, and a bespectacled man with a gentle aura came in. He looked to be in his early thirties. “Good afternoon... I mean, good evening,” he said with an embarrassed laugh. Rather than raising his voice energetically, he spoke in a soothing yet cheerful tone. He looked around the classroom and said, “Welcome to our mental health support seminar, everyone.” He smiled, his eyes narrowing into gentle arcs.

After that lighthearted start, he spoke ardently about how restrictive modern society was. He showed appreciation for how everyone was hanging in there, saying things like, “How much are you holding back how you really feel?” “Please don’t suppress yourself so much. You don’t have to be so considerate.” “Please take better care of yourself. Praise yourself.” It was all quite standard. Nothing he said stood out as special, but the way he appealed to the audience with those simple words in between unique stories relieved the stress in their hearts. It certainly felt like it was worth more than two thousand yen.

Before I knew it, I was tearing up just like the other participants. I glanced behind me and saw Komatsu crying his eyes out. Meanwhile, Holmes was looking down with his hand on his mouth.

7

“I thought the seminar was going to be suspicious, but it was actually really nice,” I said upon reaching the table at the cafe.

Komatsu, who was already seated, nodded fervently. “I feel bad for thinking it’d be suspicious too. My heart feels so light now.”

“Right? I feel like the burden on my heart has been lifted.”

Holmes smiled in amusement at our conversation.

“Is there something strange, Holmes?” I asked.

“No, I was just thinking that it was good that you two went as well. It shows just how easy it is to win people over.”

“Easy? But you were moved too, right? You had your hand on your mouth.”

Holmes chuckled. “Ah, that was an act.”

“What?” Komatsu and I asked in unison.

“If one person was completely nonchalant while everyone else was moved to tears, it’d spoil the mood, right? So I pretended to be restraining my emotions,” Holmes said without a hint of guilt.

Komatsu and I gaped at him.

“S-So you weren’t moved at all?” I asked.

“Those kinds of seminars all say the same thing, so the content was within my expectations. What’s important is expressing that content with conversational skill, and I was indeed impressed by the lecturer’s use of timing. But the gist of it was, ‘Prioritize yourself and take better care of yourself.’ Those words won’t sway my heart, because I always prioritize myself and take good care of myself,” Holmes said proudly, placing his hand on his chest.

My face stiffened. This is as “Holmes” as it gets. Beside me, Komatsu was gaping in awe.

“More importantly, did you two receive this as well?” Holmes asked, taking out a loose paper from his pamphlet and showing it to us. The paper said: “According to your answers, your heart is screaming for relief. We will offer you the next seminar at a special discount, so please attend.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t get that,” I said.

“I got it,” Komatsu said, showing us the same piece of paper.

“Did they only give it to men?” I asked, tilting my head.

“No.” Holmes shook his head. “They gave it to women too. I deliberately filled out the form as a suffering person would, so that’s why I got one.”

“Oh, I see.” I was foolishly honest and answered the questions truthfully, saying that I slept well, found food delicious, and enjoyed listening to music.

“I answered honestly though,” Komatsu said. “I’m really not getting any sleep, and when it’s too quiet I get all kinds of negative thoughts.”

I cast my eyes down, not knowing how to respond to that.

Holmes held up the paper and chuckled. “Fortunately, it looks like Komatsu and I will be able to attend this special seminar.” It was clear that he’d fallen for the trap on purpose.

Surprised, I looked up and said, “B-But was this seminar really a bad thing?”

“Huh?”

“It may be true that it said the same thing as any other seminar, but I think most of the people there really did feel less stressed afterwards.”

Holmes nodded with a gentle expression. “Yes, this kind of seminar is similar to a massage on hearts that have become stiff due to the ways of modern society. It relieves the tension gently—and sometimes strongly. That is not a bad thing. In fact, many people will be refreshed and gain the motivation to keep toughing out their situation. What’s scary is if they rely too much on that comfort, and if that reliance is used to manipulate them.”

“Manipulate...”

“Yes. If your heart was soothed by this seminar, then that’s a very good thing. However, if you soon find yourself thinking, ‘I can’t feel at peace unless I come to this seminar,’ and someone plans on controlling you that way, then they must be stopped,” Holmes said with a sharp look in his eye.

Komatsu and I fell silent.

“Besides...even I could give a seminar like that if I wanted to.” Holmes rested his chin in his hands and sighed.

He’s right about that. Holmes seemed like he would be a fearsome teacher that could win over the hearts of many and manipulate them at will.

“Hey,” Komatsu whispered to me. “I know I asked this before, but are you really not scared of going out with a guy like this?”

“L-Like I said, I’m used to it,” I whispered back.

Holmes frowned. “You make it sound like I’m a terrible person.”

“Uh, anyway, you definitely don’t need this seminar,” Komatsu said.

“Yes, I agree.” Holmes chuckled.

Suddenly, we heard a cellphone beep. “Oh,” Komatsu said, taking his out. The moment he looked at the screen, he gulped. “Smart guys work fast, huh?”

“That’s not necessarily true,” Holmes said. “Did you get a message from the private tutor, Kikuchi?”

“Yeah, he went to the kid’s house saying that he might’ve forgotten something in his room. He sent the picture just now.” He showed Holmes the picture on his phone.

“Now this is interesting,” Holmes said immediately, smiling. It was a copper ornament of a Buddha in a suit of armor—most likely Sakra. He was sitting on an elephant. His right hand held a lance and his left hand was on his hip. His right leg was bent and rested on the elephant’s back, while his left leg hung to the side. He was looking down and seemed to be in a void state of mind. On the other hand, the elephant had intense eyes and large, majestic tusks.

“I’ll forward it to you,” Komatsu said. “Can you get Murakami to check if it’s the same one?”

“Yes, of course. I suspect that it is, though. I’ve seen Murakami’s other works, and this one has his defining lines.”

“So the stolen ornament really did end up in that high schooler’s room?” I asked. I couldn’t believe it.

Holmes smiled wryly and said, “Yes, I wasn’t expecting it either. We’ll have to do a serious investigation on that high school student.”

“Yeah...but ever since the arrest, his school’s been wary of outsiders, so I don’t think we’re gonna have any luck interviewing witnesses.” Komatsu sighed and raked his hand through his hair.

Makes sense. If we suddenly showed up and started asking questions, how honest would they be...? Even if Holmes can detect lies, I don’t think we’ll get the information we need.

“That’s fine,” Holmes said with a smile. “I’ll have an insider do the investigation for us.”

“An insider?” Komatsu and I tilted our heads together.

“Huh, you know someone there?” Komatsu asked.

“Wh-Who is it? Was that the school you went to?” I asked.

Holmes grinned. “It’s Rikyu. Oh, Rikyu is sort of a younger brother to me, Komatsu. He goes to that school, so I’ll have him investigate.” He spoke as if it was a done deal.

I frowned. “Um, would Rikyu agree to do that?”

“Yes, he’ll do anything I ask him to,” Holmes said without hesitation.

I gaped. I thought Rikyu was selfish when it came to Holmes, but apparently that isn’t the case. Come to think of it, when Holmes came to watch the soccer game at Nishikyogoku Stadium, he said, “I just remembered that I have someone named Rikyu who’s like a younger brother to me. I’ll ask him to watch the store.” He hadn’t even checked with Rikyu before saying that he’d definitely go.

“I’m certain that Rikyu will bring the student’s connections to light. That boy is very capable.” Holmes smiled, his eyes narrowing into crescents.

“He already has followers...” Komatsu murmured.

I nodded at him. Yes, Rikyu’s definitely a follower.

◆　◆　◆

I, Rikyu Takiyama, attend one of the top five private prep schools in Kyoto for one reason alone: it’s the closest school to my house. I did consider going to the same school that my beloved and respected Kiyo went to, but it was a bit too far. So instead, I attend this combined middle and high school in Sagano. I can’t give up being able to relax in the mornings. It’s unfortunate that I don’t get to call myself Kiyo’s junior, but I made the choice to reduce my commute time—for six whole years at that. Since it’s a private school, it also puts effort into sports. Thanks to that, I was able to continue practicing my childhood sport, judo, there. The school also gave me the opportunity to study in France for a year. Even though I chose it for a simple reason, I like it here, and I can tell that the other students are proud of it too. That’s why it was such a shock when we heard that third-year Suguru Shirasaki, known for his excellent grades, was arrested on cannabis charges...

The day after the arrest, there was a school assembly. The principal went on stage and told us that Shirasaki was expelled. They then went on and on about how regrettable it was, how he threw his future away, et cetera, et cetera. The school was abuzz for a while, but since Shirasaki was expelled, it now felt like a storm had passed.

Just when my interest was fading too, Kiyo came to me with that request. I couldn’t help but grin as I looked out the window at the huge schoolyard, wishing that lunch break would come sooner. As usual, there were people running on the track and kicking a soccer ball at the nets. For a school like this, where everyone aims to excel at both academics and sports, training their mind and body in the lush greenery of Sagano—in other words, the picture-perfect school setting—that scandal had to have been really painful.

“What’re you grinning for, Rikyu?” came a voice from beside me. I turned and saw a girl with short hair peering into my face. Her name was Haruka Ichinose. She lived close to me, and we went to kindergarten and elementary school together. We didn’t go to the same middle school, but she came here starting in high school. Well, basically, she’s a childhood friend. Her black hair stuck out every which way, and since she did track-and-field, she had a toned body with suntanned skin. She definitely seemed like a tomboy.

“Something good happened, so I can’t help but smile,” I answered honestly.

Haruka widened her eyes—which were already fairly big to begin with. “S-Something good? What was it? Oh, oh, did you get a girlfriend?” She leaned in eagerly, like a gossip journalist looking for her next scoop.

I looked at her and sighed. “No. Kiyo asked me for a favor, that’s all.”

“Kiyo did?” She looked at me in wonder.

Haruka also knew Kiyo well, and she was a fan of him just like me. Well, it’s only natural—Kiyo is good-looking, upstanding, kind, and knows everything. Once you’ve met him, you can’t not admire him. That’s perfectly understandable. People are free to admire him and fall in love with him, but I get annoyed when they get the wrong idea and I have to tell them, “No, you’re not good enough for him. Know your place.” Fortunately, Haruka said that she doesn’t have a crush on him; she just admires him as a person. Besides, even if she did have a crush on him, she has low self-esteem, so she wouldn’t get the wrong idea anyway.

Oh, that reminds me of the day I first met Aoi. The shock when I realized that such an ordinary person stole Kiyo’s heart... The truth was that I knew from the very beginning that Kiyo liked her. I realized from the look on his face the moment she came into the store. He smiled at that average girl with a lovey-dovey aura—there might as well have been flowers blooming in the background. His sudden mood swing had me wondering what on earth just happened. Luckily, it didn’t seem like she’d realized how he felt. I wanted to ruin her chances before they got together...but that didn’t go so well.

Well, Kiyo seems happy, so I’m not going to complain. Even though I still don’t like it. To be completely honest, I wish they’d break up already. I don’t hate Aoi herself, but I don’t want her to be with Kiyo. Saori, last year’s Saio-dai, would’ve been better. They really did look good together, and I’m sure I would’ve been able to congratulate them sincerely. I can’t tell Kiyo that, though, because I’m sure he’d stop talking to me. In fact, when he told me he started going out with Aoi, before I could even say anything, he said, “Rikyu, don’t be mean to my girlfriend.” But what was with that bragging tone? He clearly just wanted to say “my girlfriend.” Even though it’s Kiyo, I don’t like it when he’s giddy like that. But alas, I have no choice but to pray for my master’s happiness.

“Kiyo hardly ever asks you for anything, right?” Haruka said quietly, bringing me back to my senses.

“Yeah, it’s rare. That’s why I’m happy.” I always want to help Kiyo. I’m like a retainer on standby—always waiting under the eaves for instructions.

“What did he ask you to do? Can I help?” she asked seriously.

“Hmm.” I crossed my arms. Haruka has a lot of connections that are different from mine. I can’t underestimate girls’ information networks. Plus, I know I can trust her to keep a secret. I’ll be able to get more information if I accept her help. “All right, Haruka, you can help. But keep this a secret between us.”

“O-Okay.” She nodded, her eyes lighting up as if she were a child.