The next day, Kiyotaka and Komatsu went with Yilin to the West Kowloon Cultural District. M+ was located there, on the Victoria Harbor waterfront. The building was very simple, with a wide lower section and a slender tower. Its facade was in the shape of a stone plaque, or rather...
“It kinda looks like a huge screen,” Komatsu murmured as he looked up at the building.
“That’s because it is one,” Kiyotaka replied. “The enormous facade facing Victoria Harbor is a functioning digital screen.”
“Oh. It really is a museum for digital art, huh?” Komatsu said as he followed the others to the front side.
“This entrance reminds me of ROHM Theater Kyoto.”
“C’mon, kiddo, stop comparing everything to Kyoto.”
They stepped inside. Tickets needed to be reserved in advance, but Yilin had taken care of that for them. From the entrance, they could see a wide-open space, unpainted concrete, and wooden counters. The interior design was simple yet sophisticated.
“This way,” Yilin said, leading them in.
The entrance to the special exhibit had a white sign that said “equality” in black letters with a “no photography” icon. Komatsu gulped as they went inside.
The first thing they saw was a large painting of a young girl, likely Middle Eastern. It was a close-up of her face, and her eyes reflected armed soldiers at war. The girl wasn’t crying or despondent; she was simply watching the scene. Just looking at the painting made Komatsu’s heart ache. Art truly was powerful.
Other works in the exhibit included a colorful chameleon objet d’art, a poster that looked like the artist had merely splattered paint on canvas, a cartoonish illustration, and an elaborate painting that looked exactly like a photograph. Some were indisputably amazing, while others left Komatsu tilting his head and wondering what the point of them was. None of them displayed the name of their creator.
Kiyotaka hummed. “There are quite a few well-known artists participating.”
“I was surprised too,” said Yilin.
The two of them seemed to be able to identify the anonymous artists.
“So where’s En— I mean, the painting we’re looking for?” Komatsu asked, glancing around.
Yilin looked nervous for a moment. “It’s farther inside.”
They continued through the exhibit until they arrived at the painting. It was titled Present City, likely paralleling Kyoto’s nickname, “Ancient City.”
Kiyotaka stopped in front of it and stood perfectly still. The piece was an overhead view of Gion at sunset. It depicted Shijo Bridge spanning the Kamo River, Minamiza Theater, and Yasaka Shrine at the end of the street to the east. It wasn’t as detailed and accurate as a photo, but it was beautiful and meticulously painted. Most of all, the pedestrians looked lively and cheerful.
It brought a tear to Komatsu’s eye. “He...had fun living in Gion, huh?” He’d never seen anything but a dour, uninterested expression on Ensho’s face, but this painting radiated happiness and joy.
“It’s well done,” Kiyotaka murmured to himself. “His paintings have a mysterious pull that makes you think, ‘I want to be in there.’ You can’t help but stop and stare at them for as long as you can. It’s like you can even sense the smells and sounds inside them. There’s something in Ensho’s paintings that goes beyond technique, and it’s probably not something that can be learned.”
Komatsu agreed. There had been paintings that had caught his eye in the past, but none had gripped him as strongly as Ensho’s.
Kiyotaka slowly turned his gaze to Yilin, who looked at him nervously. “The painting is undoubtedly his work.”
“Thank you, Kiyotaka,” she said with a serious expression. “I’ve made up my mind now.”
“You’re going to buy it, I assume.”
“Yes, though I don’t know if I’ll be able to.” Offering a high price wouldn’t be enough this time. She had to outbid the other buyers. “By the way, I’m not going to tell you my bid.” She seemed wary of Kiyotaka too. It was clear how desperate she was to obtain the painting.
“Are you doing this for your father?”
“Yes...but also for myself. Sorry, I have to get ready now, so I’ll be taking my leave.” She bowed, turned on her heel, and walked away at a quick pace.
Komatsu stared blankly at Yilin’s receding figure. “She seemed kinda tense.”
“It must be because she has confirmation that the painting is by Ensho,” said Kiyotaka.
“What are you gonna do, kiddo? Are you gonna bid on it?”
“Of course not.” Kiyotaka laughed. “I think it’s good that he can choose the buyer rather than not knowing who they are or where it’s going. Now then, shall we go?” He began to walk.
“Wait, are you already going back to Japan?”
“Yes. I only came to see the painting.”
“Can we at least get lunch first? I wanna try some local eats.”
“That’s a good point. It’s not every day you go to Hong Kong,” Kiyotaka said with a smile.
Kiyotaka and Komatsu left M+ and returned to Kowloon. They walked around looking at the restaurant signs, trying to decide which one to go to.
“I was surprised it really was a normal business hotel this time,” said Komatsu. “And we even shared a twin room.” It had obviously been the economical choice, but he had assumed that Kiyotaka would put them in separate rooms.
“I would’ve preferred separate rooms, of course. But I did it this way just in case.” Kiyotaka shrugged.
“Just in case?”
“Yes, so I can keep you in sight.”
“You’re treating me like a kid?”
As they talked, they turned their attention to the bustling streets of Kowloon. The neon signs jutting out into the road truly felt like Hong Kong, and the diversity of the people coming and going made it clear that they were in one of the top international financial centers in the world.