Chapter 3: A Million Prayers

1

June is the rainy season in Kyoto, as it was in my hometown.

Quiet jazz music was playing at Kura, accompanied by the sound of the manager’s pen gliding along his manuscript paper. Clipboard in hand, I was checking our inventory when suddenly I found myself pausing to look out the window. The people walking outside were carrying folded umbrellas. It must be another rainy day. It’s as if the sky is crying during this season.

“Is something wrong, Aoi?” the manager asked.

Brought back to my senses, I readjusted my grip on the clipboard. “Ah, sorry. I spaced out for a minute.”

“If you’re tired, feel free to take a break. You can even do your homework if you want. Kiyotaka and I are always doing our own things here too.” Behind his glasses, the manager’s eyes narrowed into a warm smile.

I shook my head. “No, I’m being paid, so I’ll work, even if it doesn’t amount to much... Although I guess I shouldn’t be saying that when I was spacing out.” I slumped my shoulders and the manager chuckled. Honestly, he’s just like Holmes when he’s like this.

By the way, right now Holmes is at university, while the owner is apparently running about somewhere as usual.

“As you can see, we don’t get many customers. But that doesn’t mean we can leave the shop unattended, so just having someone to keep watch is much appreciated. Plus, you’ve been assisting with the cleaning, displays, inventory checks, and wrapping items. We really are thankful for your help,” the manager said with a gentle smile, making me feel a bit warm and fuzzy inside.

“Th-Thank you for saying that.”

“There’s no end to the inventory checks, so why don’t you take a short break and we can have some coffee?”

“Oh, in that case, I’ll prepare it.”

Unlike Holmes who brewed coffee as a hobby, the manager wasn’t good at such things. So when Holmes wasn’t around, it became my job. I diligently prepared the coffee and placed it near him, being cautious since his manuscript was there. “Here you go.”

His penmanship was so excessively artistic that I couldn’t read any of it.

The manager picked up the cup and said, “Handwritten manuscripts are anachronistic these days, right?” as though having noticed my gaze.

“Ah, yes. I thought everyone was using computers now.” I nodded and sat down next to him, ready to greet a visitor at any time.

“They’re calling me the bane of my editor.”

It might be true, considering they’d have to input the entire manuscript. I also found myself impressed that his editor could read that handwriting.

“Are you bad with computers?” I asked.

“Not particularly. I discuss things over email, and our store management is done in Excel.”

Huh, that’s unexpected. I thought he was writing by hand because he was bad with computers.

“Why don’t you use the computer for this, then? Isn’t it more tiring this way?”

“That’s a good question... I started off writing by hand, so I’m used to it. But most importantly, when I’m typing on a keyboard, I feel like I can’t put my soul into it.”

“Your soul?”

“Everyone is different. Personally, I feel like I can pour more into my writing when I do it by hand.”

“You might be right. It feels like that with letters too.”

“Indeed. I really hope that handwritten letters remain part of our culture. But when it comes to published works, the editor will turn it into data anyway, so it might not matter in the end. It’s my state of mind that’s the issue,” the manager said with a chuckle.

His soul will stay bottled up inside, huh?

“I’ve been slowly making my way through your book. It’s amazing—it’s like it really does have a soul.”

Women’s Quarters, published under the manager’s pen name, Takeshi Ijuin, takes place in the women’s quarters from the Heian period—in other words, the Emperor’s harem. The story depicts a storm of jealousy involving an official who kicks others down for his own ambitions and the concubines who are desperate to curry favor with the emperor. To put it bluntly, it’s a messy love-hate drama. It’s written in such realistic, excruciating detail that I had to stop at one point because I got too immersed and it hurt to read. I was surprised that the calm and gentle manager could write such a sordid story.

“Ah, you really are reading it? Do you understand now why I didn’t want you to?” The manager smiled sheepishly as he took a sip of his coffee.

“Oh, u-um, well, how do I put this... I was surprised at how sordid it was.” I accidentally answered honestly.

The manager chuckled. He looked out the window and murmured as though talking to himself, “All of my hidden darkness is spewed into my works.”

“Hidden darkness...” I found myself mimicking him by looking out the window too.

I think I understand what he’s talking about, sort of. I, too, have a dark part of me that I can’t get rid of.

“I lost my mother when I was young. She didn’t pass away, though—it was a divorce. It was just me and my father left, but as you can see, my father is always running around. So, I was raised by our relatives in Tokyo.” The manager began telling his story in a calm tone akin to the jazz notes that were currently playing in the store. I patiently waited for him to continue.

“Those relatives were my father’s younger brother and his wife. They didn’t have children of their own, so they treated me very well. Still, they weren’t my real parents, so a part of me always felt lonely. I missed my father and came back to Kyoto during long vacations, but even when we were together, it felt unbearable for some reason. It was awkward with just the two of us guys.”

I could sort of see what he meant by that, too. A mother and son wouldn’t be too bad, but a father and son suddenly stuck together by themselves sounded like it’d be awkward and clumsy.

“My father didn’t know what to do with me, so he brought me with him to work. Art galleries and wealthy families would ask him to do appraisals, and my young self was fascinated by how he could instantly see through counterfeits. He was just like Sherlock Holmes, who could instantly expose criminals. Ah, I was a bookworm of a child,” the manager added. I smiled and nodded.

“I fiercely admired my father and wanted to become an appraiser like him one day. I worked hard to get into Kyoto University solely because I wanted to return to his side.”

“I see...”

“However, I realized that I didn’t have a ‘discerning eye.’ There wasn’t anything I could do about it, so I gave up on my dream and got a job at a publishing company. My dream was lost, but I did marry the woman I’d been seeing. We were blessed with Kiyotaka and lived a happy life. Kiyotaka was my father’s first grandson, so he was doted on very much.”

“I can imagine that.”

“It’s embarrassing to admit, but I was jealous of my son because I didn’t have any memories of my father doting on me. I did cherish Kiyotaka, but I also envied the love my father poured out for him.”

I felt a small pang at his words. It sounds unbelievable to be jealous of your own child, but in his case, it might’ve been inevitable.

“When Kiyotaka was two, my wife fell ill and passed away... It was initially only a minor cold, but there were severe complications.”

“Oh no...”

“Since it all began with a simple cold, my father became terribly fussy about Kiyotaka. He’d insist, ‘His body is still developing, so I can’t let him go to places that are full of germs like kindergarten.’ Even though others and I told him that exposure to bacteria through communal living is how children become healthy and strong, he wouldn’t hear a word of it and started supervising Kiyotaka at all times. My son was an obedient child, so my father would bring him everywhere he went, whether it’d be appraisal sites or auction markets.”

I was surprised. That meant that Holmes didn’t go to kindergarten.

“Kiyotaka had a special ‘eye’ from the start, and his talent was further refined by all of the genuine articles he saw from a young age. One time, my father, Kiyotaka, and I went to an antique market at a temple. Kiyotaka tugged at my sleeve and said, ‘Wow, they have a Tsukinowa Yuusen bowl here!’ To me, it only looked like an ordinary bowl, but my father’s eyes lit up and he shouted, ‘You’re a genius!’ As a parent, I should’ve been proud too, but instead, I felt helpless in my envy,” the manager said, casting down his eyes.

My breath caught in my throat. I didn’t know what to say.

“I loved Kiyotaka dearly, but I was painfully jealous. Not knowing what to do with those feelings, I picked up a pen and wrote a historical tale about a teacher who was hopelessly jealous of a talented young person. I won the Best New Writer award with that story.”

“Wow, really? That’s amazing.”

“Thank you. That’s what led to me debuting as an author. But even now, I still feel a burning jealousy towards Kiyotaka’s talent. I vent all of those negative emotions into my writing,” the manager explained quietly before sipping his coffee again.

I see... It’s definitely painful to be jealous of the person closest to you.

The manager smiled wryly at my inability to say anything. “I’m sorry for bringing this up so suddenly. I’ve never spoken honestly about this with anyone before, so perhaps there’s something special about you.”

“O-Oh, not at all. I think it might be because we have similar feelings. I have negative emotions swirling in my head too.”

“Towards your ex-best friend who stole your boyfriend?” the manager asked calmly.

I nodded. “Yes, towards both of them.”

“You should almost have enough saved up to go to Saitama, right?”

“Yes, I managed to save enough for the train fare.”

“There aren’t any long holidays in June, but you should be able to go back next month during summer break, right?”

I hesitated, unable to answer.

The manager smiled gently and said, “There’s no need to rush. Take your time thinking about it.”

I nodded.

The manager looked towards the door and squinted. “Ah, Kiyotaka’s here.”

I looked over at the door too. The chime rang as Holmes entered. He greeted us and placed his umbrella in the stand.

“How’s the rain?” asked the manager.

“It’s already stopped. Tomorrow should be sunny.”

“Ah, tomorrow’s the fifteenth,” said the manager, looking at the calendar on the desk.

Tomorrow’s a Sunday, so I’ll be here again for my shift.

“Will you be going this month too, Kiyotaka?”

“Yes, I’d like to.”

“In that case, you should invite Aoi to go with you. I’m sure it’ll be educational for her,” the manager suggested as though he’d just gotten the idea.

“Huh?” I looked at him, startled. “Umm, go where?”

Holmes smiled and said, “Hyakumanben Chion-ji Temple’s handicraft market. They hold a flea market on the fifteenth of every month, and sometimes you can find some remarkable treasures there. As my father said, I think it’ll be educational for you, so please do come along. It’ll be considered part of your work, of course.”

I didn’t quite understand, but I agreed nonetheless.

2

The next day, I headed towards Hyakumanben on my bicycle.

Hyakumanben Chion-ji Temple isn’t too far from my house—in fact, it’s much closer than Teramachi-Sanjo. To get there, you go south down Shimogamo Main Street and turn east when you reach Imadegawa Street. Before long, you arrive at the busy Hyakumanben intersection. Diagonally opposite is Kyoto University. Hyakumanben Chion-ji Temple is a little further east from that intersection.

However, since I was supposed to meet Holmes at Kyoto University’s bicycle lot, I went into Kyoto University’s campus grounds instead. Even though it was a Sunday, many students were coming and going. Some of them were wearing regular shirts and jeans, but others had messy hair and were wearing tracksuits or sweatpants. It was shocking how little regard they had for their appearances.

Come to think of it, I did hear someone in class say, “When I see an unmotivated-looking student, I automatically assume they’re from Kyoto U.” There really were a lot of unmotivated-looking students here. Are they so focused on their studies that they don’t care about how they look?

I was nervous because it was my first time visiting Kyoto University, but seeing people’s homely attire helped calm my nerves.

But more importantly, the bicycle lot is huge. Where should I park my bike?

I was looking around in confusion when I heard Holmes’s voice: “Good morning, Aoi.” Turning around, I saw him there, sporting a simple yet sharp look consisting of a casual jacket over a V-neck shirt and jeans. He really was good-looking, and it felt like the scholarly location highlighted his charms even more.

“G-Good morning. How did you know where I was?” I asked.

“I knew you’d be heading from Imadegawa towards Chion-ji, so if you were to enter Kyoto University, it’d probably be from that entrance behind you,” Holmes responded swiftly.

It was a stupid question. I regret asking.

“Am I allowed to park my bike here?”

“Yes, go ahead.”

“Come to think of it, Holmes...” I stopped mid-sentence. It might be too late to realize this now, but calling him “Holmes” in public is kind of embarrassing. Plus, this is a university campus. Should I call him Kiyotaka, then? Or Yagashira? I anxiously thought while locking my bicycle.

At that moment, a female student who was passing by called out to him, “Oh, you came to school today, Holmes? Are you sticking around?”

I almost choked.

“Nah, I’m going over to Chion-ji Temple. What’s up?” Holmes replied in Kansai dialect.

“Chion-ji! Oh yeah, it’s the fifteenth, huh? I was hoping you could look at my report, Holmes. It doesn’t have to be today, so can you?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks. See ya!” The girl waved and left.

Perhaps it was only natural since they were fellow students, but hearing Holmes speak casually and in Kansai dialect felt new.

Wait a second...

“You’re even called ‘Holmes’ at school?” My high-pitched voice revealed my disbelief.

“Yes, I’ve been called that ever since elementary school. It’s because my surname is Yagashira,” Holmes said, switching back to his usual tone of voice. It felt kind of strange. “Come to think of it, weren’t you about to ask me something, Aoi?”

“Oh, right. What are you majoring in, Holmes? I never asked until now.”

“I’m studying philology and literature.”

“Philology and literature...” I don’t really know what that means, but I guess it sounds like him.

“Shall we get going?”

“Ah, okay.”

Holmes and I walked side-by-side towards the exit. Other students glanced at him as they passed by. Yep, Holmes is attractive. He’s tall, too. During the Aoi Festival case, even those girls and the Saio-dai livened up around him. He must be popular. Which makes me wonder... Does he have a girlfriend? We’ve been working together for about three months, but I’ve never thought about it since he shows no signs of having one.

After we walked in silence for a while, Holmes peered at my face and asked, “Is something wrong?”

“Wh-What?” I squeaked.

“You seem to be thinking about something.”

“O-Oh, I guess so. Then again, you probably already figured out what I was thinking about, right?”

“I often can, but this time I’m not quite sure, hence why I asked.”

My cheeks grew hot. I couldn’t possibly say, “I was wondering whether or not you have a girlfriend.” He might misunderstand.

“I-It wasn’t anything important,” I said instead.

“I see. I had a feeling that was the case.”

“That’s so mean!”

We laughed as we left the campus. The Hyakumanben intersection came into view again. It was a busy area, as you’d expect from a university town. We were surrounded by restaurants dedicated to dumplings, beef bowls, hamburgers, chicken skewers, and so on, as well as bars.

“There are so many restaurants here,” I remarked.

“Indeed, it’s a lively place.”

“Do you go to bars after class, Holmes?”

“Occasionally, but not much because of the shop.”

“Oh right, you have to work.”

We crossed the street and walked east. The old majestic temple gate immediately came into view. There was a sign that said “Handicraft Market,” and it was extremely crowded inside. All sorts of wares were lined up under parasols and tents, and the area was packed with customers.

“W-Wow, that’s a lot of people,” I said, already overwhelmed before even stepping foot inside.

Holmes chuckled and nodded. “The market is held every month on the fifteenth, but it does get more crowded when it falls on a weekend.”

“Oh right, today’s Sunday. I guess it’s more manageable on weekdays, then.”

We went into the jam-packed market and walked slowly, looking at the items for sale. Some of the clothes looked like things you’d find at any other flea market, but as you’d expect from Kyoto, there were also many vendors selling kimono, sashes, and miscellaneous fabrics. One person would be selling cute animals made of wool felt, while the next would be selling bags and shoes made of genuine leather. There were accessories, purses, wallets—even pickled vegetables, dried sardines, cookies, and coffee. I was surprised and excited by the variety of goods.

“This is fun. It’s like a festival,” I said.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Finding treasures such as this is part of the fun too,” Holmes said, picking up a ceramic cup. “This is a fine cup. The color is deep and it has a nice, elegant shape.”

As he said, it was a lovely cup. It was black mixed with a deep indigo, and it had a soft, round form. But the price tag on the handle said “1,500 yen”—a completely normal price.

“Is that a secret treasure? Was it made by a great artist from the past?” I whispered.

Holmes shook his head. “No, I believe that this is an authentic work of the seller over there.”

I followed his gaze to a rough-looking middle-aged man with unkempt facial hair who was sitting imposingly on a folding chair. Wh-Whoa, he looks like a bad-tempered potter!

“He must be a very kind, sensitive man,” Holmes said softly while gazing at the cup.

“Huh?” My mind stopped in its tracks. “Wh-What do you mean? He looks like the kind of person who’d fight bears on a mountain,” I whispered even more quietly.

Holmes chuckled.

The bearded bear-fighting man frowned at us suspiciously and walked over. “What’ll it be, boy?”

“I’d like to buy this excellent piece. The shape and color are exquisite,” Holmes said with a smile. He offered the money and the man, perhaps embarrassed, said nothing as he wrapped the cup in newspaper and placed it in a plastic bag.

“Here you go. Take these too,” the man said, throwing in two pieces of candy.

H-He added a bonus! Holmes’s praise must’ve made him happy!

“Thank you. I’m looking forward to your next masterpiece, Sensei,” Holmes said as he took the bag.

“D-Don’t say that. Who are you calling ‘Sensei’?!” The man’s face was clearly bright red now.

Oh, I see. Maybe he really is a kind, sensitive man. It sort of made sense now.

“I’m glad I was able to make an unexpected discovery right off the bat,” Holmes said, looking pleased with himself.

“Do you think he’ll become famous one day?” I asked.

“Who knows? I think he has great talent, but becoming famous is a matter of chance... Plus, none of his other works were as brilliant as this cup. He may be lacking in consistency.”

I giggled at that last part. “Maybe this cup was his once-in-a-lifetime success.”

“It could be, but at the same time, it means he does have the skill to make something of this caliber.”

“Maybe being called ‘Sensei’ opened his eyes.”

“I hope that’ll be the case. I really am looking forward to seeing where he goes.”

“Now I want to go treasure hunting too.”

“Yes, feel free. I invited you along so that you could get experience.”

“Oh right. I’ll do my best.”

“You don’t have to treat it like work. Please enjoy yourself.”

“Okay.”

We laughed together as we continued browsing the market. As we were pushing our way through the crowd, a priest came out from the main temple building.

“The story of the origin of Hyakumanben’s name will be presented shortly in the main building. If you’re interested, please come and listen,” bellowed the priest, but the customers remained absorbed in their shopping as if they hadn’t heard him.

“Aoi, while we’re here, would you like to listen to the story?” Holmes asked with a smile.

I nodded and said, “Yes.”

We headed to the main building. The first things I saw inside were an impressive gold altar and a Buddha in the center of the room. Lanterns and canopies in the same gold color hung down from the ceiling.

“Excuse us,” we said as we entered and took off our shoes. We kneeled on the tatami floor. There were only a few others present when we arrived, but the priest continued inviting people in, and before long, a crowd had gathered. The priest smiled as he looked around at us, then bowed.

“I’m happy that you’re enjoying the bazaar, but at times like this, I do recommend visiting the temple and hearing its stories. It’s perfectly fine to wait until after you’ve nabbed your deals, of course,” the priest said. The audience, including me, giggled. It was so unexpected to hear a Buddhist priest say “nab your deals.”

“Now then, I’d like to begin the tale of how Hyakumanben got its name. Please feel free to unwind and sit however you like.”

After hearing him say that, I quickly relaxed my sitting posture.

The priest’s story was as follows:

Around 680 years ago, a terrible plague spread throughout Kyoto, and the situation became dire. Many succumbed to the illness, to the point where their bodies had to be lined up on the Kamo riverbank. The ruler at the time, Emperor Go-Daigo, grieved upon seeing the scene. He asked Kyoto’s Shinto and Buddhist priests for help, but no one was able to solve the crisis.

After several failed attempts, Emperor Go-Daigo went to a well-known priest named Zenna from Chion-ji Temple. Zenna’s solution was to shut himself inside the Imperial Palace and chant “Hail to Amitābha Buddha” over and over again. After seven days of this, his prayer must have reached the Buddha, because the vicious plague subsided.

When he finally emerged from the palace, Emperor Go-Daigo asked him: “Zenna, how many times did you chant the name of Buddha?”

The man smiled gently and said, “One million times”—in Japanese, hyakumanben.

“And that’s how this temple became known as ‘Hyakumanben Chion-ji,’” said the priest, and everyone in the audience clapped.

3

“That was a really interesting story. I’m glad I listened to it,” I said excitedly as we left the temple building.

Holmes smiled warmly and replied, “Indeed. When visiting places like this, I think it’s extremely worthwhile to listen to what they have to say if you have the time.”

“I agree. That Zenna had a way with words though, huh? If it were me, I probably would’ve said something boring like, ‘I didn’t count, but I chanted with all my heart.’”

“Indeed. Replying with ‘one million times’ showed that he was both clever and humorous.”

We continued to chat as we returned to the busy handicraft market. Upon looking at the antiques section, Holmes squinted and suddenly stopped walking.

I looked back at him in confusion and asked, “What’s wrong, Holmes?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I happen to recognize the person selling those antiques over there,” Holmes said, looking towards a middle-aged man. “His name is Kanebayashi. He used to run an antique store as well, but I believe it closed down last month.”

“He must be selling his leftover inventory, then.”

“I suppose.”

As we were talking a short distance away, an elderly woman approached the stall.

“My, is that you, Kanebayashi? I was so worried when I heard your store closed down,” she said loudly.

Kanebayashi smiled at her and said, “Long time no see, Nakamoto! Yeah, it went under. Antiques just don’t turn a profit, so I made up my mind to close shop and do business in Osaka instead.”

“Oh, that’s good to hear. Is this a clearance sale, then?”

“Yep, take a look. Oh, but this one’s just for show.” He pointed at a ceramic sake bottle on the table. “It ain’t for sale.”

“Ooh, is this something special?”

“Uh huh. This here’s a salvaged Bizen ware. I’m sure you’ve heard of ’em, right?”

“I’ve heard the name before. Are they rare?”

“Well, yeah. It’s real hard to get your hands on one of these. That’s why I keep mine here as a good luck charm, and I won’t sell it to no one.”

I glanced at Holmes while listening to their conversation. “Holmes, what’s a salvaged Bizen ware?”

“Ah... In 1940, a capsized ship was found in the Seto Inland Sea. It was carrying old Bizen wares from the Momoyama period, which was major news for the antiques industry at the time. Those are what we call ‘salvaged Bizen wares.’”

“So they were treasures hidden in a capsized ship.”

“Indeed.”

Holmes had been staring at Kanebayashi throughout his whole explanation.

“If you were to sell it, how much would it cost?” the woman asked.

“Three hundred grand, I’d say. I won’t have to worry about that, though—ain’t no one here gonna pay that much. I’m counting on it to go up in value over time, too.”

“Three hundred thousand, and it’s still going to appreciate? That’s amazing,” the woman said, staring intently at the bottle.

“Don’t just look at that. There’s plenty of other things on sale,” Kanebayashi said with a smile.

“If I pay you three hundred thousand, will you sell this to me?” the woman said with a serious face.

Kanebayashi frowned. “It’s still my treasure, you know? But...three hundred grand, huh? I do want more capital for starting my new business...but...”

His reluctance seemed like an act.

“Hold on, I’m going to withdraw the money,” the woman said before darting away.

“Oh dear,” Kanebayashi said, breaking into a grin.

I guess bluffing is his standard sales tactic.

Now Holmes walked briskly towards him. “Long time no see, Kanebayashi.”

The man looked surprised to see him. “You’re...from Seiji’s place.”

Geez, everyone knows the owner, huh?

“Would you mind letting me see the salvaged Bizen ware too? If it’s in good condition, we’d be willing to pay five hundred thousand for it,” Holmes said with a sharp look in his eyes.

Kanebayashi’s expression stiffened. “I-I can’t. I wasn’t planning on selling it to anyone in the first place.” He hurriedly reached for the bottle, but Holmes picked it up first.

Holmes examined it in silence for a while before a smile rose to his face.

“Unfortunately, Kanebayashi, this is a fake.”

“I-I don’t need to hear your false accusations!”

“It’s the truth. There are various issues with this piece, but the most obvious one is here. Please look at the bottom,” Holmes said, turning the bottle over. “All salvaged Bizen wares have an inner circle on the bottom, whereas this one does not. It’s an ordinary Bizen ware.”

Kanebayashi couldn’t come up with a retort, but he also looked shocked to hear the truth. Perhaps he himself wasn’t confident it was real but believed it could be. It was possible that someone had told him it was salvaged Bizen ware.

“I doubt you’re selling a counterfeit on purpose, but in the end, I feel that it’d still be unethical to sell it for three hundred thousand.”

“Why you little...!” The man stood up with a swagger and headed straight for us.

“Holmes!” I shouted, frozen stiff with my hands over my mouth in fear.

It happened in the blink of an eye. It looked like Holmes had grabbed Kanebayashi’s hand, but the very next moment, the man was lying on the floor.

“Huh?” I said, dumbfounded.

“Ever since I was young, I was made to learn aikido as a means of becoming stronger,” Holmes said nonchalantly. Aikido is a defensive martial art that aims to not injure the aggressor.

Just then, the bearded potter from earlier ran over, looking shocked.

“What happened over here? Everything all right?” he asked.

“We’re fine. He just tripped,” Holmes said, quickly holding his hand out to Kanebayashi.

“Hmph.” Kanebayashi ignored Holmes’s hand and stood up, brushing the dust off of him. He silently began packing his goods into a cardboard box, presumably preparing to leave.

“Kanebayashi, you truly aren’t suited for running an antiques store. I think you made the right decision closing shop and switching to a different trade,” Holmes said to the merchant, who had his back turned to us.

Kanebayashi swiveled around with a mean look on his face. “What’d you say?” His anger was justified. Why would Holmes pour gas on the fire?

As I was watching them anxiously, Holmes took a pair of white gloves from his inner pocket and slipped them on. This was something he always did before an appraisal or before picking up an expensive item.

“I really was surprised,” Holmes said, picking up a red tea bowl from the scattered tableware. He squinted at it before saying, “Yes, I wasn’t mistaken. Truly a surprise.”

“What?” Kanebayashi said, glaring at Holmes.

“This is a genuine tea bowl by Handeishi Kawakita. I’m shocked that you would treat it like an ordinary tea bowl, not realizing what a rare treasure you had,” Holmes said with a grin.

Kanebayashi’s eyes opened wide. “A Handeishi Kawakita tea bowl...and it’s real?”

“Without a doubt. Please take it to a proper establishment and have it appraised. You’ll have the funds to start your new business.” Holmes gently placed the tea bowl back on the table.

“How much are we talking?” asked the bearded potter, who’d been listening from off to the side. Thanks, Mr. Potter. I wanted to know too.

“Let’s see... I think two million would be an understatement,” Holmes declared flatly.

The potter, myself, and of course, Kanebayashi, were all rendered speechless, our eyes wide in shock.

“R-R-R-R-R-Really?”

“Yes, please take good care of it.”

“W-Will do. Thanks so much, man.” Kanebayashi grabbed Holmes’s hand and shook it vigorously. Didn’t his attitude change too drastically?!

Just then, the woman from earlier ran over, panting for breath. “Kanebayashi, I withdrew the money. Could you sell me that salvaged piece?”

“Ah, my apologies, Nakamoto. I really can’t sell this to you. I don’t have a certificate of authenticity or any other kind of proof. Sorry ’bout that.” He bowed apologetically, unable to say that it was a fake.

“I see... That’s a shame.”

“Today’s a clearance sale, so there’s big discounts on everything. See if there’s anything else you like,” Kanebayashi said with a grin.

The rest of us quietly left the scene. Then, I heard the bearded potter mumble, “Huh, so the boy’s the real sensei.” I couldn’t help but laugh.

At any rate, Holmes’s discerning eye was as amazing as ever.

4

How do I put this...

“I think I can understand why he’d be jealous,” I murmured as we walked.

“Hm?” Holmes looked at me.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” I said, flustered. I couldn’t possibly tell him that his father was conflicted because he was jealous of his son.

“Aoi, would you like to get some coffee and drink it next to the temple?” Holmes asked, pointing at a hand-drawn sign that said “Homemade Coffee for Sale.”

“Oh, sure. That sounds nice.” I nodded.

Holmes got it black, while I had sugar and milk put in mine. We went to a quieter area away from the market and sat down on the temple stairs.

I drank my coffee and felt my cheeks loosen up. “It’s delicious.”

Holmes looked at me and asked in a soft voice, “Aoi, I think you’ve already saved up enough to go to Saitama. What will you do?”

I looked down at the milk coffee in my cup. The wind was blowing and I could hear the hustle and bustle of the handicraft market.

“To be honest, I hesitate when I think about going back. I was so sure that I’d go right away once I had the money, so it bothers me how wishy-washy I’m being.” I smiled in self-derision.

Holmes breathed a small sigh. “I understand how you feel. You don’t need to force yourself to go. Let it happen naturally.”

“Holmes...” He really is nice—wait a second. “I’m surprised you’d understand how I feel,” I said with a bit of a laugh.

Holmes smiled wryly and shrugged. “The truth is, it wasn’t only your keen eye that made me offer you the job.”

“Huh?”

“To be honest, I’ve gone through the same thing as you before.”

“H-Huh? What do you mean?”

“I’ve had my girlfriend taken from me, although it wasn’t by my best friend.”

“R-Really?” I can’t believe it! “Wh-When was this?”

Holmes paused before answering, “It was when I was in high school.” He sighed softly before beginning his story. “When third year had just begun, a classmate confessed her feelings to me and we began dating. We were a very normal couple and enjoyed spending time together. Since we were third-years, we’d study for entrance exams together too.

“However, I’ve always been surrounded by adults, and that’s never changed. They’d often tease me saying, ‘You’re not going to be able to focus on your studies when you have a girlfriend’—but not in her presence, of course. I didn’t take their comments seriously, but I did think they had a point. Since it was an important year in deciding our futures, I vowed not to let things go too far yet, for our own sakes. ‘Kiyotaka’ means ‘pure and noble,’ and thus was our relationship.”

“I-I see.” Was that last part about his name really necessary?

“In my mind, I thought that once we both got into university, we could move on to the next stage. Until then, it’d be best to prioritize our entrance exams.”

“That’s the right thing to do.”

“Indeed, but it’s not always about doing the right thing. Right after we got into university, my girlfriend accompanied her friend to a group date. There, she met a pushy, egotistical Osaka man, who immediately stole both her heart and body.”

“Wh-What?” I squeaked in disbelief at the sudden turn of events.

“According to her, I was too passive, making her feel lonely and uncertain. I’d been doing it for both of our sakes, but that hadn’t gotten across to her at all. I did realize that she wanted to go beyond kissing, but I hadn’t realized that she’d been harboring feelings of loneliness and uncertainty.

“The pushy, egotistical Osaka man found his way in through those insecurities and wound up stealing everything. I was so shocked, envious, and frustrated that I considered going to Mount Kurama and taking up priesthood.”

“M-Mount Kurama? Priesthood?!”

“And later on, I went a bit crazy and spent part of my university life doing the complete opposite of what a priest would.”

“Wh-What?”

“Well, let’s not talk about that. Anyway, because of my past, I know exactly how you feel, Aoi,” Holmes said with a smile.

I felt a tightening in my chest. I had no idea that Holmes had such an unpleasant past.

“You’re a normal person too, huh?” I said without thinking.

Holmes’s eyes widened, and then he chuckled. “What do you mean by that?”

“I-I mean, you’re such a genius. The owner is an amazing appraiser and the manager is an amazing author, but even they recognize your talent, right?” To the point where the manager was jealous of his own son.

“Aoi, did you read my father’s book?”

“Umm, about half of it.” I got stuck and couldn’t go further because the jumbled-up feelings of jealousy were too realistic.

“It might be a difficult read for you right now.”

As usual, he saw right through me.

“But hang in there. Please read it to the very end,” he continued.

“Huh?”

Holmes looked down and placed his hand on his chest. “Once you reach the end, your heart will be left with something beautiful beyond comparison.”

Something beautiful...

“When all of your emotions are laid bare and it’s too painful to do anything, the view you see when you finally look up again is a very beautiful sight. That’s what that book teaches. My father is truly a great author, if I may say so myself.”

Watching Holmes praise the manager with the most genuine of smiles made it difficult to breathe. “Holmes, do you know what the manager feels inside his heart?” I asked quietly. Since it’s Holmes, he might’ve seen through his father too.

“Hmm... I know that my father strongly admired my grandfather and dreamed of becoming an appraiser as well, but was discouraged by his lack of talent and gave up. He feels that I have the innate talent that he doesn’t and harbors something resembling jealousy towards me,” Holmes said without hesitation.

I was stunned. He knew everything all along! That’s Holmes for you.

“Oh, sorry, was that not what you were talking about?”

“N-No, that was it... How do you feel about it?” I felt awkward asking that.

Holmes looked conflicted. “How do I feel? I suppose I think he’s naïve,” he said flatly.

“N-Naïve?” I goggled at him.

“Yes. My father gave up on becoming an appraiser because he didn’t have the innate talent for it. What kind of talent do you need to become one? Perhaps I have keener eyes than the average person, but that doesn’t mean my grandfather does, and he’s the one my father admired.”

“Huh? Really?”

“Yes. When my grandfather was fifteen, he became an apprentice of a master appraiser who ran an antiques store. The master had many other apprentices too, and in order to be acknowledged among them, my grandfather studied as much as he could from him, training his mind’s eye. He worked so hard that he bled, and that’s how he became the nationally certified ‘Seiji Yagashira’ we see today.

“So, if my father wanted to become like my grandfather, he should’ve put the same amount of effort in—or more. Instead, he decided that he ‘didn’t have the talent’ and changed course. After completely forgetting about his dream of becoming an appraiser, he had me and was shocked to sense that talent in me.”

“O-Oh.”

“My father may think that I can easily perform appraisals because of the talent I was born with, but that’s not true. For certain reasons, I never went to kindergarten and instead accompanied my grandfather everywhere he went...”

I nodded, knowing why.

“Whenever my grandfather took me to work, he said, ‘You’re my assistant, so stand next to me and don’t get in the way.’ It may have been a silly thing to say to a young child, but those words meant a lot to me. I was the assistant of the acclaimed Seiji Yagashira. From a very young age, I was training hard to not embarrass myself in that position.

“Standing next to my grandfather, I’d look at the antiques and think about the differences between the genuine pieces and the counterfeits, the traits of each era, and what the counterfeits had in common. I’ve been studying for as long as I can remember.

“However, I still haven’t caught up to my grandfather, because at the same time, he’s also continuing to study and gain experience. It’s an endless world. You’ll never be done learning, and sometimes things will go against common knowledge. My father turned tail before even stepping foot into this world, which is why I can only think of him as naïve for being jealous of me,” Holmes declared.

I gulped, overwhelmed by his intensity. Holmes was right. It was naïve to be jealous when he hadn’t put in the blood, sweat, and tears.

“However, I do understand how he feels. So, as long as my father envies me, I have to aim higher.”

“Higher?”

“Yes. For example, if a high school baseball team loses to their rival in the regional tournament, they’ll want that team to keep going and win the national championship, right?”

“Oh, true.”

“I’m going to experience that in reality, too.”

“In reality?”

“Yes. I hear the girl who left me and that pushy, egotistical Osaka man are going to get married.”

“Wh-What?” That was another surprise. Who would’ve thought those two would make it that far?

“Them going that far actually makes me feel redeemed. If their bond is so strong that they’d reach the point of marriage, then it was inevitable that she’d leave me.”

“Th-That might be true.” Honestly.

“So, I think that when someone is jealous of you, you should work harder for their sake too. And in my father’s case, his envy and inferiority complex are what allow him to write masterpieces. He may not have realized it yet, but I believe that that’s his calling.”

“In that case, it was fate that he became an author despite wanting to be an appraiser.”

“That’s what I think. Besides, if you really want to become something, you’re not going to give up just because you ‘don’t have talent,’ right? I believe in the story of Zenna that we heard earlier: if you have a wish you truly want granted and you put in as much effort as a million prayers, it’ll surely come true,” Holmes said, looking up at the deep blue sky.

I felt my chest grow hot. A wish you truly want granted will come true with the effort of a million prayers... Now that I think about it, do I really want to see him that badly? Maybe I’m naïve too, just like the manager. I’m frustrated, but I won’t do anything about it.

I clenched my fists tightly in my lap. “Holmes, I think...I’m going to give up on going to Saitama.”

“Huh?” Holmes looked surprised—a rare sight. He must not have expected that.

“I-I mean, the train fare alone is tens of thousands of yen, right? I worked so hard for this money, and I don’t want to use it on that. M-Maybe I’ll go hiking in Mount Kurama instead, haha!”

Holmes smiled gently at my forced laughter. “I see. If you wait a little longer, the Eizan railway will have its best view of green maples.”

“Oh, is that so? I usually associate maple trees with fall, but I guess people enjoy looking at green leaves too.”

“Yes, it’s invigorating. I’ve been meaning to go again too. Would you like to go together?” Holmes peered into my face with a smile and my heart skipped a beat.

“Y-Yes. I was thinking it’d be lonely by myself, so I’d be happy if you came along.” O-Oh no, my voice is cracking.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“S-S-S-S-Same here.” My heart was beating a mile a minute.

“Shall we get lunch now?” Holmes said, standing up straight. I followed suit. “Aoi, what do you want to eat? There are a lot of restaurants around here, but most of them are rather loud.”

“Oh, I-I’m fine with anything.”

Our awkward conversation continued as we left Hyakumanben Chion-ji Temple on this June the fifteenth. Since it was a lull in the rainy season, the uncertainty in the sky felt like a reflection of my own heart.