The front desk was no longer staffed, and a young male employee sat behind the counter in front of a computer, attending to paperwork.
He stood up as soon as he saw Henri and Masamichi. Henri said, “Something to drink, please,” and then led Masamichi to a room one step lower, beside the front desk.
“Wow!” Masamichi exclaimed as soon as he set foot in the room.
It wasn’t particularly large—only about twelve tatami mats in size, but the ceiling was exhilaratingly high.
A medieval European-style chandelier hanging from the ceiling gave the room a very stately and chic atmosphere.
What surprised Masamichi the most was the large table in the center of the room, the variety of chairs around it, and the huge bookshelves that seemed to cover the entire wall area, along with a modern fireplace embedded in another wall.
“It’s a lovely room… Is it a library?”
“It’s a reading room. Good, no one’s here, as I expected. Please, take any chair you like.”
Prompted by Henri, Masamichi took his time mulling over which to choose and took the simple wooden chair near him.
“Oh, you like Hans J. Wegner’s chair. You have great taste. I’ll take this one here by Arne Jacobsen.”
Henri gave Masamichi a brief description of the chairs and then pulled out the chair next to Masamichi and sat down.
Rather than facing the table, he turned his body toward Masamichi, and Masamichi did the same.
“This inn burned down a long time ago. And it had been closed,” Henri said. Masamichi placed his hands on his lap and straightened his back.
“I was studying architecture in France and was a passionate fan of traditional Japanese wooden houses. I adored the pictures I’d seen of this inn, and when I came to Japan to study, I was shocked to see the burnt ruins. I couldn’t believe it.”
Masamichi’s soft expression clouded over as he imagined Henri in his youth, devastated by the pitiful appearance of the inn he’d dreamed about.
“That must have been tough.”
“Yes, it was. Later on, I met the granddaughter of the inn’s previous owner by chance. Her name is Mayu, and she’s now my wife.”
“What a coincidence!”
Henri snapped his fingers and winked.
“Non. I consider it our destiny. Mayu also loved the inn and wanted to restore it. We worked really hard, persuaded Mayu’s father, who’d told us to give it up, built up our savings, collected and borrowed money, and finally rebuilt it five years ago.”
Masamichi looked around and said, “No wonder,” understanding the reason behind the place’s beauty.
“I was wondering why everything looked so new—the facilities, the furniture, and the building itself—when it’s a very relaxed and old-fashioned inn. I get it now.”
Henri nodded, pleased that Masamichi understood what he was talking about.
“I’m glad you see it that way. That’s what we wanted. It wasn’t possible to reconstruct the inn to exactly match the way it was before. We couldn’t find anyone with the expertise to build a structure like that anymore, nor the necessary wood.”
“Oh… I see.”
“But we aimed to create the same atmosphere. I did my best to make something that Mayu would find nostalgic. But strange things began happening when the construction started.”
“Strange things?”
Masamichi had cocked his head curiously just as the young employee he’d seen earlier came into the room, placed a tea set on the table, bowed, and excused himself.
“Oh, this is nice. Please have some.” Henri offered Masamichi a pale, golden drink with ice in a handmade, blown glass.
“Thank you.”
With a slight bow, Masamichi took a sip of his drink.
“Oh.”
It was mildly sweet and moderately tart. For Masamichi, it was a nostalgic flavor that he hadn’t had in a long time.
“It’s plum syrup and soda water, isn’t it? My grandmother used to make it when she prepared her pickled plums every year. She used fully ripened plums for pickling and young green plums that were still hard, for the syrup.”
“Ah, you know about that. It’s a favorite of mine, too.” Henri picked up his glass, took a sip, and smiled. But the smile disappeared, as if he had wiped it away, when he set his glass back on the table. “So, what were we talking about? Ah, yes, the groundbreaking ceremony.”
“Oh, that ritual people have with a Shinto priest present before they build a house…”
“That’s right. When the priest arrived that day, the tent we’d prepared caught fire, although no one had been smoking.”
“Huh…?”
“And once the construction got underway, the craftsmen said it was creepy. They talked about shadows of strangers wandering around the site, tools they’d placed in a certain spot moving somewhere else, and things they’d put in a safe place falling. Oh, and an eerie voice whispering ‘koko’—‘here’—into their ears.”
“Koko?”
Henri flashed him a mischievous smile.
“In my country, koko means ‘coconuts’ or ‘cutie.’ I wondered why the men were talking about coconuts or cute girls when someone told me that it meant ‘here’ in Japanese.”
“Ah,” Masamichi said, nodding. “Yes, koko does mean ‘here.’”
“Everyone said it wasn’t a human voice. They said it was an apparition, a specter, a revenant, a phantom… I didn’t believe it, but sure enough, I also heard the voice when I came to the site. Someone was saying ‘koko.’ It was a soft voice, but I heard it so clearly that it gave me the creeps. I couldn’t make out whether it was male or female.”
Because Masamichi had also been gravely injured in a hit-and-run accident six months earlier and had been living with Shino since then, he was starting to feel that bizarre stories of the unknown were less horrifying than real human crimes.
In contrast to Henri, who was rubbing his arms in horror, Masamichi started to speak rather calmly.
“I see… And that’s when you contacted Tatsumi?”
Henri nodded.
“Mayu discussed it with her father, who consulted a monk who frequented the inn when his father operated it. Then someone connected someone with someone else, and we received an introduction to Mr. Tatsumi.”
“That’s a long list of introductions…”
“Yes, connections are a funny thing. Mr. Tatsumi came here, walked around the grounds for a while, and then he stood in a corner and told us to dig in that spot. None of the construction workers were around that day, so Mayu and I began digging.”
“Did you find something?”
“Please keep this to yourself,” Henri said, and he looked Masamichi in the eye. After Masamichi nodded a few times, he said in a whisper, “Human bones. Here.” Henri indicated his pelvic area.
“…!” Masamichi almost yelped in surprise and hastily covered his mouth with a hand. Then, like Henri, he asked in a whisper, “Wasn’t that a big deal?”
Henri nodded.
“I immediately called the police. Mayu and I paled, thinking that a murder had taken place here. We thought our plan to rebuild the inn had come to an end—but we were wrong.”
“Oh? Wasn’t it a murder?”
“The police came to us later and said it was someone who’d been reported missing. The man had gone mountain climbing a decade ago and hadn’t been heard from since. He must have gotten lost and died in the mountains, his body eaten by animals.”
“…Oh…”
“Perhaps a wild dog had snatched the bone and buried it here so it could eat it later. The police succeeded in conducting DNA tests, and the deceased’s family wrote us a thank-you letter, saying they were glad that their loved one had returned, even if it was just a bone. It wasn’t a bad incident, but I think some of our customers may be uncomfortable if they heard this…so, please…”
“I know. I won’t tell anyone. So that’s why you said Shino saved your inn.”
Henri smiled.
“Precisely. Mr. Tatsumi may always look like he’s annoyed with something, but he’s really nice. Mayu and I were in shock when the bone was found, but he immediately said to us that we humans had come back to the site and finally dug up this person who had desperately wanted to be found. He told us not to worry, saying the person would only be grateful and wouldn’t dream about haunting us. He said to be proud that we’d done a good deed and to go ahead and build our inn with pride.”
Even five years ago, Shino, a specter, must have looked exactly the way he did today.
Masamichi could vividly picture him speaking those words with his usual disinterested expression and blunt delivery.
It sounds just like Shino…
“It was Mr. Tatsumi’s words that supported us. We worked hard to rebuild the inn, and we have guests now who are happy to visit. Mayu is currently away studying hospitality, staying at inns in various countries to further refine our services.”
“That…sounds lovely.”
“Uh-huh. But Mr. Tatsumi had not once visited us since we finished building the inn, so I am genuinely happy that the two of you came here today.” Henri put a hand on his chest and spoke like he meant every word from his heart. Then he looked at Masamichi with kind eyes. “I’m also happy that he now has you as an assistant. Five years ago, he came alone and left alone. It seemed to me that he hadn’t enjoyed anything in a long time. I know I should mind my own business, but he was smiling a little when I took your meal to your room. I was so glad to see that.”
“Oh, um.”
Although Masamichi had cooled off completely from his hot bath, his face instantly turned bright red.
There was a reason why Shino had smiled during dinner. Masamichi was completely unfamiliar with table manners when it came to authentic kaiseki cuisine. Despite being alone with Shino in their villa, he had tensed up when he saw the delicacies set on the table.
“Don’t keep dropping your food. Food is food, no matter where you eat what. There is no need to be so nervous,” Shino had said.
Masamichi was as clumsy with his chopsticks as a young child, and Shino couldn’t help laughing. That was when Henri brought them the main course, a sukiyaki dish of Sanda beef.
“That…was just Shino laughing at how clumsy I am.”
But Henri calmly denied that.