Yilin stood before Mibu-dera Temple once again and gulped. She’d stopped by the other day after visiting the netsuke museum since it was just across the street, and upon entering, she’d discovered it was associated with the Shinsengumi, a police force of the Bakumatsu period.
Seeing the statues of Isami Kondo and Toshizo Hijikata had sparked her interest. Upon returning home, she’d done some research on the Shinsengumi and found an anime series based on them on a streaming service. It was an older show and had already completed its run, but it still seemed to be popular.
She’d casually started watching it, curious to see what it’d be like, and had immediately gotten hooked. Before she knew it, she was already rewatching episodes over and over again. It’s not my fault the characters are all such attractive men, she told herself as an excuse.
Her favorite was Toshizo Hijikata because she saw Ensho in his dignified yet rugged design. Part of it was because Ensho was no longer bald—he’d grown out his hair to the point where it was a little shorter than Kiyotaka’s. His sharp, manly features resembled Toshizo Hijikata’s too. Meanwhile, Kiyotaka had to be the handsome young swordsman whose delicate exterior belied his inner genius. Just like Ensho and Kiyotaka, the two characters didn’t exactly get along. They clashed over the tiniest things.
Yilin had become more and more engrossed in the anime with each historical fact it presented. Seeing the characters strive toward a shared ambition and dedicate their lives to a greater cause had filled her heart with emotion.
“I can’t help but want to buy up all the merchandise I can! And I keep coming to Mibu-dera Temple whenever I have free time.”
It had turned out that the Shinsengumi had once been stationed in Mibu, and this temple had been used as their training base.
This is where those swordsmen honed their skills! she cried in her heart, placing a hand over her mouth.
Mibu-dera was also home to a grave site for the soldiers. The spacious grounds were enveloped in a gentle atmosphere that seemed to welcome visitors while also pacifying the warriors who had once fought with conviction. Perhaps that was why Yilin couldn’t stop coming here.
“Ahh, I feel energized. Time to go to work,” she murmured, setting off for Kura.
Today was her first weekend shift, and it began in the afternoon. Since the accounting firm Kiyotaka worked at was closed on Saturdays and Sundays, he would be at the store today. Yilin was already learning a lot from Aoi, but Kiyotaka was the real reason she’d wanted to work at Kura. His knowledge far surpassed Aoi’s, so he would surely be able to share even more of the charms of antique art.
“Huh? You went to Mibu-dera again?” Aoi asked.
“Yes.” Yilin shrugged as she donned her apron. “I know the anime isn’t the same as reality, but thinking about the Shinsengumi training there just makes me want to go. Also, here’s something to have on your break, if you’d like.” She placed a box of sweets labeled “Tonsho Mochi” on the counter.
“Ooh, this is from Kyoto Tsuruya Kakujuan, right?”
“It was next to Mibu-dera, and it said these sweets were inspired by the Shinsengumi, so I ended up buying them on impulse...”
Kiyotaka looked up from the accounting book. “Shall we take our break now, then?”
“Huh?” Yilin blinked. “But I just got here.”
Aoi giggled. “We’ve been working since morning, so we were already thinking of taking a break.”
“Since it’s Tonsho Mochi, I’ll make tea instead of coffee.” Kiyotaka stood up and went to the kitchenette.
On all-day shifts, they took turns eating lunch. If only one person was on duty, they’d have to sneak a bite in the kitchenette when there were no customers around, but if another staff member was present, they could eat outside if they wanted to. Aoi often ate rice balls and boiled eggs she brought from home.
But although they had to be stealthy with their lunches, drinking coffee and eating sweets at the counter was perfectly fine. When Yilin asked about this discrepancy, Kiyotaka’s explanation had been “We’d rather not be seen eating from our lunch boxes, but if we’re drinking coffee at the counter, sometimes people will mistake the store for a café. It’s a way to bring in customers.”
“Apologies for the wait,” said Kiyotaka, setting tea bowls on the counter in a row. “I decided to use matcha to suit the occasion.” The sweets had been taken out of their little bags and placed on a small plate.
“Wow, you prepared matcha just for us?” Aoi excitedly took a seat in front of the counter.
Yilin sat next to her, looked down at the foamy green tea, and gulped—not because she thought it looked delicious but because she remembered there were rules for drinking matcha. Was she being tested?
Noticing her plight, Kiyotaka smiled and said, “This isn’t a formal tea ceremony, so please drink it however you like.”
“Oh!” Aoi clapped her hands together. “Holmes, why don’t you take this opportunity to teach us how to properly enjoy this tea?”
“I doubt actual tea ceremony practitioners would be happy with my lecture...”
“I’d love to hear it,” Yilin insisted.
“Very well.”
Kiyotaka lowered his gaze to the Tonsho Mochi, which was about the size of a five-hundred-yen coin. The sweet consisted of red bean paste wrapped in white mochi, but what set it apart were the slivers of green kneaded into the mochi. These were called mibuna greens because they were once cultivated in the Mibu region.
“Generally, when having tea, the sweets come first,” Kiyotaka explained. “You finish all of the sweets before drinking the tea.”
It’s a good thing we asked first, thought Yilin. I definitely would have drunk the matcha first.
“We use a special knife to cut them into bite-sized pieces, but you don’t want to cut them too small. For large sweets, you can cut them into thirds, but these Tonsho Mochi aren’t as big, so perhaps halves will do. That said, outside of a formal tea ceremony, these would be eaten whole.” He cut one of the Tonsho Mochi in half and brought a piece to his mouth. “Ah, the firm texture of the mochi is well balanced with the moderately sweet red bean paste. It’s delicious.”
After eating the remaining half, it was time to drink the matcha.
“I believe you’re supposed to turn it, right?” Yilin asked.
Kiyotaka chuckled. “There is a custom of holding it in your right hand and turning it clockwise twice over your left, but generally, the important thing is simply to avoid drinking it from the front.”
“The front?”
“Yes. Please look at your tea bowl.”
Yilin obliged, lowering her gaze. There were red leaves painted on the side facing her.
“I placed it that way because I wanted you to see the design,” Kiyotaka explained. “After appreciating the artwork, you should avoid drinking from that angle. It’s how we show respect for each other.”