A long time ago, I heard someone say that Kyoto’s springs and autumns were “special.” When I told that to my late grandfather, he patted my head and said, “It’s not just spring and autumn. In Kyoto, all four seasons have their charms, and each season has its own scenic places.”
“What’s the best place to see cherry blossoms, then?” I asked, and his answer was, “Hmm, there’re quite a few, but the top one’s gotta be Ninna Temple.”
Ever since then, I had it in my mind that the best place for cherry blossoms in Kyoto was Ninna Temple...but I’d never gone there.
“Is that so? You still haven’t been to Ninna Temple, Aoi?” Holmes asked, and I nodded a “Yes” while peeking at the logo visible through the windshield of the Jaguar he was driving.
“Ninna Temple does come to mind when I think of cherry blossoms, but there are plenty of other noteworthy locations, like the Heian Shrine and the Hirano Shrine. The Philosopher’s Walk is a good one too.”
I vaguely nodded along to Holmes’s excited explanation, unable to stop focusing on the Jaguar logo. I mean, this isn’t the kind of car a student would ride in, right?
“Umm, Holmes, this is a really expensive car, right?”
“Ah, it’s the owner’s car.”
“Y-Your grandfather’s?”
“Yes, he likes Jaguars. Apparently, he was very impressed by the ideology of the company’s founder, Lyons: ‘Beauty sells.’”
“I-I see.”
“But he rarely gets the chance to drive it, so it’s become Kura’s company car.”
“It’s an amazing company car.”
Holmes laughed in amusement at my strained expression.
After driving for around half an hour, we arrived at Ninna Temple. Since it was a Saturday during cherry blossom season, the parking lot was packed full, but because we were invited guests, we were directed to a separate area.
At the entrance to the grounds was the giant, imposing Nio Gate.
“It’s huge, like, really grand. I can feel its history.” My lousy vocabulary strikes again.
Holmes smiled in response, and said, “Indeed, the Ninna Temple has a long history. It was built in the Heian period and remained a top-class monzeki temple—meaning that its head priest was a member of the imperial family or an aristocrat—until the Kamakura period. Unfortunately, most of the temples on this mountain burned down during the Onin War. The Ninna Temple wasn’t rebuilt until the Edo period.
“The Nio Gate you see in front of us was built then, but the cylindrical columns, the interlocking wooden brackets above them, and the bargeboards are all in the traditional style of the Heian period.”
Holmes’s extensive knowledge flowed from his mouth like water, and all I could do was make vague sounds of admiration.
Upon passing through the Nio Gate, a spacious road came into view. Because of the season, the place was bustling with people. The next gate we passed through was a bright vermillion, and there was a row of cherry blossom trees immediately to the left.
Now this was a spectacle. What caught my attention was that all of the trees were short. Around two or three meters tall, maybe?
“The cherry blossom trees here are all small, huh?”
“Yes, the ones here are called ‘Omuro’ cherry blossoms, and strangely enough, they’re all short in height. It’s said that their roots are restrained as though in flowerpots, preventing them from growing any bigger, but the truth isn’t fully known yet, so providing a scientific explanation would likely require research.”
“Huh? Scientific research? It’s not just a species?”
“Right, it’s not a unique species. By the way, some people in Kyoto jokingly call people with low noses ‘Omuro blossoms,’ since the word for ‘nose’ is pronounced the same way as ‘flower.’”
“Low noses are Omuro blossoms? Even Kyoto’s teasing is elegant,” I said with a shrug, and Holmes chuckled, “Indeed.”
A lone priest approached us with a smile, wearing the black kimono called a ‘sky vestment.’
“Welcome, Mr. Yagashira. The monzeki is waiting for you.” He bowed, and we bowed back.
“Please, right this way,” the priest said as he began to walk.
“Um, what is the monzeki?” I asked feebly.
“This temple’s head priest,” answered Holmes.
We entered the temple and were led to a Japanese-style room, where we were instructed to wait. Tea and sweets had already been prepared for us on the table. The two of us sat down next to each other and looked outside. The paper sliding door had been left open, and the comfortable spring breeze gently blew in. The cherry blossoms were gorgeous under the dazzling blue sky.
After we had gazed at the cherry blossoms for a short while, the screen door slid open and the monzeki came in.
“My apologies for keeping you waiting.”
“Long time no see.” Holmes bowed, and the monzeki narrowed his eyes fondly.
“My, you’ve grown, dear Kiyotaka.”
I guess they know each other.
“I’m sorry it’s me here today and not my grandfather.”
“It’s quite all right—Seiji said that you’d be able to handle this case.”
Seiji is the owner’s name. Now I understood; this was originally supposed to be the owner’s job, but he sent Holmes in his place.
Holmes and the monzeki made lively small talk for a bit before moving on to the real topic.
“So, today I’d first like you to take a look at this.” The monzeki gently placed a wooden box on the table.
“As you wish.” Holmes put on his white gloves as usual and pulled the box towards him. He opened it carefully, revealing a matcha tea bowl that he picked up and examined closely. It was beautiful, with cherry blossoms painted on the side.
“It’s Kyoto ware, I see. The lines are soft and full. It’s undeniably the work of Ninsei Nonomura. A splendid piece.” Holmes smiled, and the monzeki smiled back. “Is that so?”
Ninsei Nonomura... Who’s that? Just as I was wondering...
“Ninsei Nonomura was a potter from the first half of the Edo period. His real name was Seiemon. Nonomura was the name of the place where he was born, and the ‘nin’ in Ninsei is the one used in Ninna Temple’s name. The ‘sei’ was taken from his name, Seiemon.”
As usual, Holmes readily answered my unspoken thoughts.
“So basically, he became Ninsei Nonomura because he was Seiemon of Ninna Temple, born in Nonomura?” I asked. But why did his name include Ninna Temple’s ‘Nin’ in the first place?
“He was an exceptional potter, considered the founder of the style of Kyoto ware that uses overglaze enamels. He was granted the art name ‘Nin’ by the monzeki of Ninna Temple at the time and thus became Ninsei.”
He answered before I even had a chance to ask. Truly terrifying.
So in other words, this piece is the work of someone who had ties to this temple. That’s why they wanted to have this tea bowl appraised, right? Does this mean the job is done?
“But you wanted more than an appraisal, right?” Holmes looked up from the tea bowl.
The monzeki looked mildly surprised and responded, “That’s correct. There’s actually someone else who wanted a consultation regarding this tea bowl. Please wait a minute.”
He exchanged looks with the priest waiting in the hallway. The priest hurried away and soon returned with another man. The man entered the room and sat formally before us, bowing his head.
“My name is Kishitani. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
He looked like an ordinary middle-aged man, although a bit on the tired side.
“This tea bowl belongs to him. Kishitani, he says it’s authentic,” relayed the monzeki.
Kishitani scratched his head. “I see.” For some reason, he didn’t look very happy.
“Is there something you don’t understand?” inquired Holmes, not missing a beat.
Kishitani lifted his face in surprise and replied, “Ah, yes. I received this from my old man. He departed the other day, and in his will he wrote, ‘That Ninsei tea bowl contains all of my feelings.’ I heard that Ninsei Nonomura was connected to Ninna Temple, so I came to consult with the monzeki.”