Epilogue

The short month of February had ended, and now it was March.

“It’s already March, huh?” I murmured to myself as I flipped the tabletop calendar to the next page.

Time had really flown by thanks to everything that had happened. The manager and owner were overjoyed to have me back at Kura, which I appreciated a lot.

“Oh, thank the gods you’re back,” the owner had said, teary-eyed with his hands on my shoulders. He’d secretly been worried about me.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” the manager had added, smiling gently.

I’d wanted to come back to Kura as if nothing had happened, but when I saw them so openly happy for me, I couldn’t help but cry from joy too.

And it wasn’t only the owner who’d been worried about me. Even though I had entrance exams coming up, my mother had been concerned because I’d suddenly stopped going to Kura.

“I don’t know if something happened, but I’m glad you can go to Kura again,” she’d said.

She’d pretended not to know anything and didn’t pry further, but it made me realize that she’d been looking out for me, ready to help at any time. Knowing that I was surrounded by these wonderful adults made my heart well up with emotion.

Entrance exams had come and gone. All of my hard work had paid off—I was accepted at Kyoto Prefectural University and made my parents proud. After that, I’d gone back to working part-time, and now everything was back to normal.

I glanced at Holmes, who was doing the accounting at the counter. He noticed my gaze, looked up, and smiled warmly. My heart skipped a beat, and I choked up.

“Aoi, would you like to take a break? I’ll make coffee.”

“Oh, yes, I’d appreciate that.”

I was so happy that things were back to normal that every little thing made me tear up.

After a short while, two cups were placed on the counter. Both Holmes and I were drinking our coffee black.

I took a sip and let out a breath. “It’s delicious.”

It really was peaceful these days, as if all of the drama had been a fever dream.

I wonder what Ensho’s doing now? We haven’t heard from him since that fateful day, I thought as I peered into my cup.

The door chime rang and a deliveryman came into the shop, carrying a package with both hands. Judging from the size and shape, it was probably a moderately large painting.

“Excuse me, I have a delivery for you,” he said.

“Thank you,” Holmes answered, signing the slip and accepting the package.

“Any time,” came the reply as the deliveryman left the store.

As the door chime rang, I peeked at the delivery slip. The package was indeed a painting, and the sender was someone named Shinya Sugawara. The recipient was Kiyotaka Yagashira.

“Did you order a painting, Holmes?” I asked.

“No.”

Holmes frowned and carefully opened the box. Both of us froze when we saw the painting that came out. It depicted what seemed like a streetscape in China. There was a canal in the middle, flanked on both sides by rows of exotic houses with strings of red lanterns hanging from their eaves. The surface of the water glistened in the bright sunlight. A long houseboat, the kind used for hosting parties, was anchored on one side of the canal, and farther in the distance, a very small boat was about to pass under a stone bridge. There were beautiful peach blossoms among the greenery of the trees, and upon closer inspection, the scenery in the foreground depicted daytime and the background was at night. Even though the water in the foreground reflected sunlight, there was a white moon floating in the water in the background.

I was so awed by the painting’s brilliance that I almost couldn’t breathe. The moment I set eyes on it, it was as if I’d been pulled into the scene. It was fantastical and not photorealistic at all, yet it felt alive. I could hear the lively crowds, and it seemed like the boat could cast off at any moment. I looked at Holmes and saw that he too was overwhelmed by it.

After some time, he murmured, “This is a landscape painting of Suzhou.”

“Suzhou... So it is a Chinese landscape.”

“Yes, this would’ve been painted with the year 826 CE in mind.”

“826 CE?” I looked up at him, surprised. “How do you know that?”

“I believe this is a recreation of a poem by Juyi Bai.”

Since I’d studied Chinese poetry for my entrance exams, I knew the name. His courtesy name was Letian, and in Japanese, we often called him Rakuten Haku. That was the extent of my knowledge, though. I wouldn’t be able to identify a Juyi Bai poem from this painting.

“What’s the poem called?” I asked.

“Little Boat,” he answered quietly without looking away from the painting.

A little boat, newly built

With a thatched roof over light support beams

From deep into town to the quiet shore, now I can go anywhere

Shallow waters, low bridges, I can pass through anywhere

Paddling in the shade of yellow willows, the moon’s reflection follows me

Drifting, as the wind strikes me with the scent of white duckweed

I slowly pull the boat to a stop under a blooming cherry tree

And wonder which house has the reddest flowers I can see

“Juyi Bai, otherwise known as Rakuten Haku, was appointed Governor of Suzhou in the second year of the Baoli era; that is, 826 CE. Suzhou is a beautiful city known as the Venice of the East because of the waterways running through it. That was when he wrote the poem Little Boat.”

As I listened to him, I looked back at the mystical landscape painting that captured a day in Suzhou. It matched the poem perfectly. I could sense Rakuten Haku’s excitement upon traveling to a new and beautiful place, thinking, “Now I can go anywhere.” There was so much freedom and thrill in this brilliant piece.

“I wonder if it was painted by the sender, Shinya Sugawara,” I said. I didn’t know how popular that artist was, but he was incredibly talented.

“That’s Ensho’s real name.” Holmes turned to me and smiled.

“Huh?”

“When I met with Yuki in Amagasaki, I asked what Ensho’s real name was, and it’s Shinya Sugawara. Judging from this painting, he broke free from the past and is now in a new world.”

I gave a silent nod. Released from the spell that bound him to the past, he became free and is now excitedly looking to the future. This painting represents those feelings, and he must’ve sent it to Holmes as a symbol of gratitude.

I was touched, and beside me, Holmes was stroking his chin. Is he moved? I wondered. I turned to look at him happily only to see that his eyes were cold, as if he were horrified.

“Wh-What’s wrong, Holmes?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Sorry, please don’t look at my face right now.” He hurriedly turned away.

“Why not?”

“I’m...frustrated and jealous. When I look at this painting, I can’t help but panic in the face of his talent. I don’t want you to see me like this.” Still looking away, he continued quietly, “It makes me wish...that I had this much talent too.” His voice trembled a little.

As someone who truly loved art, Holmes respected creators very much. He may have been admiring them more than I’d imagined. And he must’ve been desperately envious of those who could create works of beauty. I stood there, unable to say anything. Holmes straightened his back and slowly turned around. His face was very gentle.

“Sorry,” he said.

I shook my head and replied, “It’s okay.” I looked up at him. “Holmes, I’m sure that jealousy is a sign of potential.”

“Huh?”

“When I look at this beautiful painting, I’m moved, but I’m not jealous. That’s because I don’t think there’s the slightest chance that I’ll ever be able to paint something this amazing. I think that when you’re jealous of something, it’s proof that you have the potential to do it. It’s kind of embarrassing to admit, but sometimes I’m jealous of your eye for appraisal.”

“Aoi...” He looked at me, seeming slightly surprised.

“I’m sure you have the talent for creation, Holmes. That’s why you feel the way you do.”

His face relaxed. “Thank you. You might be right. As you said, when you’re touched by someone’s talent and it’s completely out of your field, you can let go and appreciate it, but if it’s something that you have the potential to accomplish too, it could result in envy. My jealousy exists because I have the tiniest potential. However, I am the same as my father.”

“The manager? How so?”

“My father admired and was jealous of my grandfather’s appraisal skills, but he took the path of an author instead. It was probably because he understood from experience that, while he had potential, he’d never be able to reach that level. So he ran away without bothering to put in the effort. I’m the same way. Ensho probably spent his childhood desperately painting in order to survive, and the talent we see here is the fruit of that effort. It’s naive of me to simply look at his painting and be jealous even though I never put in as much work as he did,” he said in a calm tone, picking up the painting. “My heart burns with frustration and envy, but on the other hand, I’m very happy to receive such a beautiful piece. I’m also happy that Ensho’s heart was set free,” he continued, now speaking passionately.

I nodded.

His heart burns with jealousy, but it also dances with joy. Both of those are his true feelings, and I’m really glad that he told me.

“We may as well put it up,” he said, hanging Ensho’s painting on the wall in the Chinese antiques section. It fit perfectly, as if it had been made for that space. It made me think that Ensho had even predicted where the painting would be placed.

We stood next to each other, looking at it. My heart was again struck by its brilliance.

“I wonder if Ensho managed to visit his girlfriend,” I murmured.

Holmes shrugged weakly. “Aoi...”

“Yes?”

“I wasn’t sure if I should tell you, but I think it’ll be problematic if you continue to misunderstand, so let me make this clear,” he said, looking straight into my eyes.

My heart skipped a beat. “Wh-What is it?”

“Yuki is not a woman. He’s a man,” he said bluntly.

“A man?”

“Yes. Which means he’s not Ensho’s ‘girlfriend.’”

“H-Huh?” I squeaked. “So, um, that means he’s his boyfriend, then?” The revelation had my heart pounding. How could this be? I was totally imagining Ensho saying a tearful farewell to the woman of his dreams. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Nothing is straightforward when it comes to Ensho. Who would’ve thought that he had a boyfriend?

As I gaped in shock, Holmes chuckled and said, “No, I don’t think that’s quite right. It’s not a matter of man or woman. Yuki was the most important person in Ensho’s life; that’s all.”

The serious look in his eyes told me that this wasn’t going to be a lighthearted conversation. I straightened up and asked, “What do you mean?”

“The Yuki I met was a very slim and attractive twenty-five-year-old man. He and Ensho used to live in the same apartment building. Ensho took care of him like a younger brother since they were six years apart...like Rikyu and me, including the age difference.”

Similar to Holmes and Rikyu... That makes it easy to imagine. It’s incredible...Ensho and Holmes even have that in common.

“Ensho’s father was a violent drunk, while Yuki lived with a single mother who neglected him. It was common for Yuki’s mother to not even cook meals for him, so Ensho would bring him food out of concern. Whenever Yuki was bullied by the neighborhood children, Ensho would always come to his rescue. Since they both lived in unfortunate households, they stuck together and supported each other. From what I heard, it felt as though protecting Yuki was how Ensho kept himself going.”

By protecting someone, he maintained his sense of self. How beautiful...yet sad.

“When Yuki entered high school, Ensho’s father was hospitalized, and Ensho had to leave his home. When he left, he gave Yuki the white porcelain incense burner and said, ‘If you’re ever strapped for cash, sell this.’ Yuki said he could never bring himself to do it.”

“I see...”

At the time, Ensho must’ve truly wanted Yuki to sell it if he ever needed to, but I felt like I could understand why Yuki never had. Even though Ensho wanted him to sell it in an emergency, deep in his heart, he must’ve also not wanted him to.

“After Ensho moved out, Yuki never saw him again. But every month, Ensho would send him money as an allowance.”

“Huh? Ensho sent Yuki an allowance?”

“Yes. Yuki said that he was able to graduate from university thanks to that. He’d been reluctant to accept the money, but there was always a letter included that said, ‘I’ll come see you when you graduate from university, so work hard on your studies.’ So Yuki studied hard, believing that Ensho would visit him when he graduated. But even after graduating and finding a job, Ensho never came...presumably because he had washed his hands of the counterfeiting business when Yuki graduated.”

“Oh!”

So Ensho was making counterfeits for Yuki’s sake. After Yuki graduated and found a job, Ensho quit and became a monk. He must’ve cared about Yuki a lot to protect him for so long.

Before I knew it, tears were flowing from my eyes.

“Aoi...” Holmes reached out and wiped them away with his finger.

Ensho had been sacrificing himself for his whole life. Then, he’d met Holmes, and for the first time, he’d exploded. He was a very pure person—that was why he’d become a monk. I didn’t know how he’d gotten into the temple, but for someone like him, forging documents would’ve been a piece of cake. Perhaps the priests had even known everything when they’d accepted him.

“Like you said, it’s not a matter of man or woman,” I said. “Ensho cared about him. I’m embarrassed that I even made that cliched assumption. His love was so beautiful, delicate, and pure.” I lowered my head in shame.

Holmes chuckled. “When I visited, their relationship was beautiful, delicate, and platonic, but we don’t know how it might’ve changed when Ensho went to see him. It’s undeniable that they were strongly drawn to each other. If they’re happy, that’s all that matters, isn’t it?” he said as he walked towards the counter.

I nodded. “You’re right.”

I hope he finds happiness. He’s something like Holmes’s counterpart, after all.

We sat down at the counter again and sipped our coffee, which was now cold.

“Should I rebrew it?” Holmes asked.

“No, it’s okay. Good coffee is still delicious even when it’s cold.”

“You’ve gotten comfortable drinking it black, I see.”

“Yes.” I nodded.

Holmes looked at the calendar on the counter and smiled gently. “As you were saying earlier, it’s already March.”

“Yes.”

“March is a memorable month for me.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t you know? Two years ago, in March, a certain girl came to this shop with hanging scrolls from her house.”

I blushed.

“And she cried her eyes out here,” he continued.

“S-Stop that, Holmes.” I put my hands on the counter.

“In a short period of time, that girl grew into an amazing woman and took my heart prisoner.” He gently entwined his fingers with mine.

“H-Holmes...”

Now I was feeling a different kind of embarrassment. I could feel my blush reaching my ears.

“Call me Kiyotaka again, Aoi.” He smiled and squeezed my hand. It was so enticing that I couldn’t look him in the eye.

“I-I can’t. We’re in the middle of work.”

“It’s just saying my name. What are you imagining?” He grinned mischievously.

“I’m not imagining anything! Jeez, you really are wicked...Kiyotaka,” I said hesitantly.

This time it was Holmes who blushed and looked away. “This is so dangerous,” he said, reverting to his Kyoto accent. “I could run a marathon after hearing you say my name.”

“Oh, stop that!”

We both sat there, cheeks flushed, unable to make eye contact.

Suddenly, the door was flung open, ringing the chime.

“Heeey! Here I am, Holmes! Did you miss me?” Akihito came in with a wide grin on his face. Holmes and I quickly let go of each other’s hands.

It had been a long time since I’d last seen Akihito. He’d been getting more TV work lately, and from my perspective, he seemed extremely busy.

Akihito looked at me, then Holmes. “What? Didn’t you guys break up?” he asked, confused.

“Huh?” Holmes and I replied in unison.

“Uh, the owner called me last month, and he was all, ‘Kiyotaka’s depressed as heck because Aoi dumped him, so come over and cheer him up.’ But it was right before I was about to leave for an overseas shoot, so even though I was worried, I couldn’t do anything before going to Las Vegas. I forgot all about Holmes and had the time of my life, though.”

Holmes and I exchanged glances.

Oh, so the owner contacted Akihito. Since I stopped coming to the store and Holmes was depressed, it makes sense that he got the wrong idea about what happened. He must’ve thought Akihito, an extraverted bundle of energy, would be able to blow away the heavy mood descending over the Yagashira family. I giggled. It’s just like him to come up with that idea.

Holmes shrugged, seeming ashamed of himself.

“But hey, you made up? Man, I even bought you chocolate to cheer you up,” Akihito said, plopping himself down in the seat next to me. He placed an expensive box of chocolate on the counter.

“Why would you give him chocolate to cheer him up?” I asked, tilting my head.

“Well...” He folded his hands behind his head. “I also heard from the owner that Holmes’s birthday is on Valentine’s Day, of all days. So, it’s kinda late, but I bought this as a birthday present and a Valentine’s Day gift. Aren’t I such a nice guy?”

“Oh!” I put my hand over my mouth. “That’s right. Holmes’s birthday was on Valentine’s Day.”

“Wait, what? You forgot your boyfriend’s birthday, Aoi?”

“I-I’m so ashamed of myself.”

This was so embarrassing. Because of everything that had happened, I’d completely forgotten about it.

“It’s fine, Aoi,” said Holmes, smiling. “You gave me very wonderful words.”

He must’ve been referring to what I’d said on the fifteenth. I blushed.

“Look at this economical guy, getting a full stomach from words,” Akihito quipped.

“They’re Aoi’s words, after all.”

“Yeah, okay, miss me with that lovey-dovey stuff. Man, I seriously thought Aoi finally got sick of your weirdness and broke up with you.”

“Did you, now?” Holmes asked with a laugh.

“What else was I supposed to think? I did try to help you out, you know? The best way to forget a woman is with another woman, so I asked around. So, sorry if a great woman randomly shows up at the store one day, Aoi.” He raised a hand towards me, not seeming to feel the slightest bit guilty.

“Akihito...” I facepalmed. This guy never changed.

I thought for sure that Holmes would’ve been annoyed too, but instead he laughed and declared, “Akihito, in my eyes, there’s no greater woman than Aoi.”

I almost stopped breathing.

“Ohhh, not bad. I bet getting dumped and then accepted again really put you in your place.” He leaned forward and grinned in amusement. He was convinced that I’d dumped Holmes and we’d gotten back together.

“You’re right,” Holmes replied with a gentle smile. “I’m sure I’ll be indebted to her forever.”

“Forever?” Akihito’s eyes snapped open.

I was too happy and embarrassed to look up at this point. I didn’t know what the future would hold, but I was truly glad that he’d said that. I hope we can continue to walk together in life...

I lifted my head and saw Holmes looking at me. We unconsciously gazed into each other’s eyes.

“Hey, you guys already did it, right?” Akihito asked with a straight face, resting his chin in his hand.

“Huh?” We both turned around at the same time.

“You seem waaay closer than before. Yeah, you’ve gotta be doing it.” He grinned mischievously.

Crude as ever.

“I’m right, right? Took you long enough, Holmes. When was it? After you made up?”

Akihito leaned even closer, and Holmes flicked him on the forehead.

“Ow!”

“You really don’t know how to show restraint,” Holmes said. Then he looked at me, held up his index finger, and asked, “Right?”

I giggled and nodded. “Yes, you’re right.”

“Man, you’re no fun.” Akihito pouted, crossing his arms.

The door chime rang again.

“Welcome,” we said, turning to see a very unusual guest. It was Yanagihara, an appraiser and old friend of the owner’s. You could say they were rivals. I’d met him at parties before, but this was my first time seeing him at Kura.

“Why, if it isn’t Yanagihara. My grandfather is in Osaka right now,” Holmes said apologetically, standing up.

“Nah,” the appraiser said, shaking his head, “I’m not here for that old geezer. I came to thank you, Kiyotaka.”

“Me?” Holmes tilted his head slightly, unsure of what he’d done to deserve thanks.

“Thank you for helping my apprentice,” Yanagihara said, bowing.

“Your apprentice?” Holmes frowned.

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” called out an unexpected voice. Ensho stepped into the store.

We all gasped. Even Akihito was gaping in shock. Ensho was wearing his usual casual kimono, and he had a confident smile on his face. Holmes twitched, perhaps from a bad premonition.

I guess he still gets irritated when he sees Ensho.

“What’s the meaning of this?” he asked in a low voice.

Yanagihara laughed happily and said, “This fellow visited me the other day and told me everything that happened. He asked me to make him my apprentice, and I was going to refuse, but then he said, ‘My eyes are just as good as that Holmes of Kyoto,’ and I got a little excited—okay, I was moved. Anyway, we can never have too many excellent connoisseurs. Of course, I’m only going to mentor him after he’s turned himself in and atoned for his crimes. It’s because of you that I got a brilliant apprentice of my own, so I came to thank you. Oh, right, it’s late, but I got you a birthday present. Here, it’s chocolate.”

He held out a box. Holmes accepted it with a conflicted expression.

“Thank you.”

Ensho took a folding fan out of his pocket and hid his mouth behind it as he laughed. “Well, we’re in the same boat now. Counterfeits are unacceptable, so let’s do the best we can, Mr. Holmes,” he said challengingly, bringing his face close to his rival’s.

I’m sure he wanted to thank Holmes properly too, but once he saw him, he just had to take on that attitude. Seriously, these two are ridiculously skilled, but when it comes to this relationship, they’re completely inept.

“All right, young’uns, you’re going to have to work hard to make the art industry more exciting.” Yanagihara gave Holmes and Ensho each a cheerful smack on the back.

Ensho was smiling too, but Holmes’s expression remained cold.

“What, am I not welcome?” Ensho asked with upturned eyes, closing his fan and putting a hand on his chin.

Holmes gave a small sigh and said, “I do welcome you. It’s reassuring to have a talented person like you come around to our side. However, I still haven’t forgiven you for what you did to Aoi, and I don’t intend to lose to you either.” There was a confident look in his eyes.

Ensho smiled happily. “That’s good. Life’ll be fun if I can compete with you.”

Holmes faintly smiled back. He must have felt the same way.

“Well then, see you next time, Kiyotaka,” said Yanagihara. “Let’s go, Ensho.”

“Right,” the younger man replied, bowing and following his new master out of the store. He took a split second to glance at his painting on the wall before immediately turning on his heel as if to hide any signs of weakness or embarrassment. He must have been happy.

He may have buried his whole past by painting that. And in his mind, he must’ve already abandoned his original name. He still seems like the “Ensho” we know. Suddenly, I felt nervous. Did Ensho go see Yuki like he was supposed to?

“U-Um, please give Yuki our regards,” I said to his retreating back.

Ensho turned around and smiled. It was a calm, happy smile, and it told me everything I needed to know. He had reunited with Yuki. And for Yuki’s sake, he’d resolved to atone for his sins and become an appraiser.

Thank goodness, I thought, deeply moved.

Immediately after Yanagihara and Ensho left, a middle-aged man in a suit entered the store.

“Hey there, kiddos.”

There are so many guests today. This tends to happen at Kura—people all come at once.

This was Katsuya Komatsu, a private detective we’d gotten to know after various incidents.

“Why, if it isn’t Komatsu,” Holmes said. “Good to see you.” He looked at the man from top to bottom and smiled.

“Oh!” Akihito exclaimed, “Hey there, Komatsu. Haven’t seen you since Aoi’s birthday party.”

The detective gave a slight bow. “My daughter’s been a huge fan of yours ever since that party. She says you’re good-looking and funny. I can see why you’re rising in popularity.”

“Thanks. You’re also famous now, huh? You’re the brilliant detective who solved the cannabis cult case that involved a politician and a top-tier prep school.”

“No, I really didn’t do much.” Komatsu awkwardly scratched his head. Since he’d been credited for the cannabis cult case, he’d seen an explosion of requests and was now doing quite well for himself.

Akihito glanced at Holmes. “So it really was Holmes who solved the case, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s how it is.” Komatsu shrugged.

“No, not at all,” Holmes said smoothly, shaking his head.

Akihito was right; Holmes had done most of the work on that case. He didn’t want it to be publicly known, though, so he’d had Komatsu take the credit.

“Setting that aside, I notice you’re wearing a proper suit today instead of a worn-out one, Komatsu,” said Holmes. “You look cleaner overall, your skin is clear, and you seem healthier. Did you remarry, by any chance?”

“Y-You’re as scary as ever,” Komatsu said, recoiling slightly.

“Wait, you remarried? Congratulations!” My eyes lit up.

“No, no. I just started living with Masami and Yuko; I haven’t remarried. Masami hasn’t made up her mind yet, so marriage will have to wait. Anyway, I came today because I have something to ask you guys.”

“What is it?”

“Well...” A man entered the store behind him. “This is my client,” Komatsu said hesitantly.

Holmes frowned. “Why did you bring him to me?”

“Wait, I’m not asking you to do any detective work,” Komatsu said hurriedly. “This is an appraisal.”

Holmes immediately relaxed and smiled. “Ah, I see, my apologies. Appraisal requests are always welcome. For a second there, I misunderstood and thought you’d come to push another troublesome case onto me. May I trust that such a thing will never happen again?”

“Hey, you’re not the boss of me.” Komatsu laughed dryly and turned to look at the person standing behind him.

The man bowed. “Hello, my name is Saotome. I’d like you to take a look at my late grandfather’s mysterious artifact.”

“A mysterious artifact?” Holmes looked intrigued. “Of course, please have a seat.” He gestured towards a chair in front of the counter.

He must be excited to see what kind of item it is.

“Thank you,” the man said hesitantly. “I’ve heard that you’re very sharp, which is why people call you the ‘Holmes of Kyoto.’”

“Not at all.” Holmes put his hand on his chest and smiled elegantly. “I’m only called Holmes because my surname is Yagashira.”

You’re still saying that? I giggled.

The storm had passed, and a door to a new future had opened. It was a bright afternoon.