“So the one the customer left here is a katabori-netsuke?” Yilin peered at the mouse carving.
“That’s right.” Aoi nodded. “I’m not an expert on netsuke, so I can’t say who created this, but from looking at it, I can tell that it’s very well-made.”
As they were talking, the door chime rang.
Did the customer come back? Yilin turned around, but instead of the figure she was hoping to see, she was met with a young man with glossy black hair and an attractive face—Kiyotaka.
“Welcome, Holmes,” Aoi greeted him with a smile.
“Good evening, Aoi, Yilin,” said Kiyotaka, placing his briefcase on a chair in front of the counter.
“How was your first day at the accounting firm?” Aoi asked.
“It was mostly training. The staff are all very kind. It’s a nice work environment.”
There must be a lot of female employees, Yilin thought, grinning to herself.
Kiyotaka turned his gaze to her. “How was your first day, Yilin?”
“Aoi is a patient, fun, and thorough teacher.” Yilin smiled.
“I see,” said Kiyotaka, seeming happy. “That’s good to hear.”
“I was enjoying myself so much that it didn’t even feel like work.”
Aoi blushed and changed the subject. “Oh, right, Yilin, I was thinking of having a welcome party for you. Are you free later today?”
Yilin appreciated the sentiment, but unfortunately, she had to decline. “I’m sorry,” she said, pressing her palms together to apologize in true Japanese fashion. “I’m supposed to attend a Rolling Club meeting tonight.”
The Rolling Club was a membership-based international organization dedicated to goodwill and community service. Many of its members were businesspeople or politicians.
“Oh, okay,” said Aoi. “Can I schedule it for another day, then?”
“Of course.”
“We can combine it with Aoi’s feet-washing,” Holmes suggested.
Feet-washing? Yilin frowned, wondering if she’d misheard.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Aoi said with a shrug. “Didn’t we already do my feet-washing?”
I heard right after all. And...it’s already been done?
“Um, did you do this for Aoi?” Yilin asked hesitantly.
“Yes,” Kiyotaka said nonchalantly.
“I see.”
Behind Yilin’s calm facade was a flustered and confused heart. Kiyotaka washed Aoi’s feet? She imagined him kneeling on the floor, delicately tending to his partner.
“Aoi, please don’t pull your feet back. I can’t wash them properly like this.”
“But it tickles.”
“Is that really the only issue?”
“You’re so mean.”
“Oh, Aoi. You know Kyoto men are wicked.”
Yilin gasped, her cheeks flushed. The image she’d conjured in her mind was simply too realistic.
Kiyotaka chuckled. “My apologies, Yilin. Feet-washing is a Kyoto-specific term that refers to a celebration or thank-you party. We had one the other day because Aoi finished her internship.”
“Huh?”
Aoi giggled. “I was surprised the first time I heard it too.”
In other words, their conversation had been about dedicating the party to Aoi as well.
“Oh, I see,” said Yilin. “Regional dialects are still hard for me.” She pressed her hands to her burning cheeks, ashamed of her indecent imagination.
Kiyotaka turned his gaze to the item on the counter. “Before I forget, why is there a Masanao Suzuki netsuke over there?” he asked, instantly identifying the thumb-sized sculpture with a mere glance.
“It really is Masanao Suzuki, then,” Aoi said, relieved. Apparently she’d had a hunch too.
“Who is that?” Yilin asked, impressed by their knowledge.
“A netsuke craftsman from Ise who was active from the Bakumatsu period to the early Meiji period,” Kiyotaka replied, picking up the netsuke. “Did Ueda bring this in?”
“He does like this kind of thing.” Aoi laughed. “It wasn’t him, though.”
Ueda was a friend of the manager, Takeshi Yagashira—they’d gone to university together. He was fond of Edo culture, including ukiyo-e art and netsuke.
After Aoi explained what had happened, Kiyotaka hummed and folded his arms. “So the customer was a man in his thirties with rather plain features and a kimono. He claimed to have met Yilin backstage before and seemed confused because he didn’t recognize her face at all. This netsuke was left to him by his late grandfather, and his father and brother each received one as well. Based on this information, I imagine I know who this individual was.”
Aoi gulped. “Who?”
“Kabuki actor Kisuke Ichikata’s older brother, Matsunosuke Ichikata. He must have thought Yilin was Aoi, hence his belief that you’d met before.”
“Oh!” Aoi placed a hand over her mouth.
Even Yilin knew who Kisuke Ichikata was. This past summer, he’d starred in a play called The Tragedy of the Grand Family, and his character had been modeled after Kiyotaka. She wasn’t familiar with his older brother, though.
“It’s true that we met backstage at Minamiza Theater,” said Aoi. “I didn’t really talk to him, so it’s not surprising that he doesn’t remember my face. And I do remember seeing on the news that their grandfather recently passed away. It must have been Matsunosuke, then.” She nodded.
Yilin recalled the visitor’s face and frowned. “He didn’t look anything like Kisuke Ichikata, though. Wouldn’t brothers share a resemblance?”
Aoi shrugged. “In this case, they don’t. The older brother is plain, while the younger brother is the gorgeous type.”
“Indeed,” said Kiyotaka. “For a while, gossipers called them ‘the all-talent older brother and the all-looks younger brother.’ Even the harshest critics acknowledge Matsunosuke’s brilliant acting skills, especially when he plays female roles. If today’s visitor was Matsunosuke, you should have seen the beauty in his mannerisms.”
“Yes, his movements were graceful,” Yilin agreed.
“That confirms it, then. So his grandfather left his descendants a Daikoku, mouse, and frog netsuke,” Kiyotaka murmured to himself.
“Is this netsuke valuable at all?” Yilin asked.
Kiyotaka looked down at the netsuke. “Yes, it’s a fine work of art. This is an authentic piece by the first-generation Masanao Suzuki, and it’s in good condition. If Matsunosuke were willing to sell it to our store, we’d offer three million yen for it.”
“Huh? Three million?” Yilin’s eyes widened.
Aoi giggled. “The price surprises even you, huh?”
“Of course. I mean...” I can’t believe this tiny wood carving can be worth so much, Yilin thought, looking at the netsuke again.
As if reading her mind, Kiyotaka added, “The value of an object is determined by demand—that is, how many people desire it. Avid netsuke collectors have existed since long ago, and Masanao Suzuki is popular among Kyoto connoisseurs.”
He explained that many of Masanao Suzuki’s netsuke were crafted from a type of wood called Asamatsuge. It was known as the “crown jewel of wood” for its hardness, which was leveraged to create intricate carvings.
“His netsuke are charming, fashionable, and have a sense of warmth,” Kiyotaka continued with a smile. “I love them too.”
“Since you say ‘first generation,’ are there second and third generations too?” Yilin asked.
Kiyotaka nodded. “Masanao Suzuki’s style is called the Masanao school, and it has been passed down to the present day. I believe they’re on the fifth generation now.”
Yilin opened the book from earlier and gazed at a photograph that featured various types of netsuke. “There really are so many designs. It’s quite fascinating.”
“Right?” Aoi said. “Oh! Japan’s only museum dedicated to netsuke is right here in Kyoto. It’s called the Kyoto Seishu Netsuke Art Museum.”
As they were chatting, closing time rolled around. They hung the “CLOSED” sign on the door, brought the floor sign inside, and closed the curtains.
“You’re free to go now, Yilin,” said Aoi. “You said you had somewhere to be, right?”
“Thank you for today.” Yilin bowed and left the store.
Having completed her first day of work, she breathed a sigh of relief. Aoi had taught her about many things today, including Shino tea bowls. It had been very educational.
“And even though it was just the two of us, I didn’t feel nervous, and she didn’t do anything unpleasant.” In fact, Aoi had been very considerate the entire time, to the point where Yilin felt a bit bad.
Looking at her watch, it was just past 7 p.m. The meeting started at eight, so she didn’t have to worry about being late. She walked out to Kawaramachi Street and hailed a taxi.