Chapter 3 part 2

The next day, I headed towards Hyakumanben on my bicycle.

Hyakumanben Chion-ji Temple isn’t too far from my house—in fact, it’s much closer than Teramachi-Sanjo. To get there, you go south down Shimogamo Main Street and turn east when you reach Imadegawa Street. Before long, you arrive at the busy Hyakumanben intersection. Diagonally opposite is Kyoto University. Hyakumanben Chion-ji Temple is a little further east from that intersection.

However, since I was supposed to meet Holmes at Kyoto University’s bicycle lot, I went into Kyoto University’s campus grounds instead. Even though it was a Sunday, many students were coming and going. Some of them were wearing regular shirts and jeans, but others had messy hair and were wearing tracksuits or sweatpants. It was shocking how little regard they had for their appearances.

Come to think of it, I did hear someone in class say, “When I see an unmotivated-looking student, I automatically assume they’re from Kyoto U.” There really were a lot of unmotivated-looking students here. Are they so focused on their studies that they don’t care about how they look?

I was nervous because it was my first time visiting Kyoto University, but seeing people’s homely attire helped calm my nerves.

But more importantly, the bicycle lot is huge. Where should I park my bike?

I was looking around in confusion when I heard Holmes’s voice: “Good morning, Aoi.” Turning around, I saw him there, sporting a simple yet sharp look consisting of a casual jacket over a V-neck shirt and jeans. He really was good-looking, and it felt like the scholarly location highlighted his charms even more.

“G-Good morning. How did you know where I was?” I asked.

“I knew you’d be heading from Imadegawa towards Chion-ji, so if you were to enter Kyoto University, it’d probably be from that entrance behind you,” Holmes responded swiftly.

It was a stupid question. I regret asking.

“Am I allowed to park my bike here?”

“Yes, go ahead.”

“Come to think of it, Holmes…” I stopped mid-sentence. It might be too late to realize this now, but calling him “Holmes” in public is kind of embarrassing. Plus, this is a university campus. Should I call him Kiyotaka, then? Or Yagashira? I anxiously thought while locking my bicycle.

At that moment, a female student who was passing by called out to him, “Oh, you came to school today, Holmes? Are you sticking around?”

I almost choked.

“Nah, I’m going over to Chion-ji Temple. What’s up?” Holmes replied in Kansai dialect.

“Chion-ji! Oh yeah, it’s the fifteenth, huh? I was hoping you could look at my report, Holmes. It doesn’t have to be today, so can you?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks. See ya!” The girl waved and left.

Perhaps it was only natural since they were fellow students, but hearing Holmes speak casually and in Kansai dialect felt new.

Wait a second…

“You’re even called ‘Holmes’ at school?” My high-pitched voice revealed my disbelief.

“Yes, I’ve been called that ever since elementary school. It’s because my surname is Yagashira,” Holmes said, switching back to his usual tone of voice. It felt kind of strange. “Come to think of it, weren’t you about to ask me something, Aoi?”

“Oh, right. What are you majoring in, Holmes? I never asked until now.”

“I’m studying philology and literature.”

“Philology and literature…” I don’t really know what that means, but I guess it sounds like him.

“Shall we get going?”

“Ah, okay.”

Holmes and I walked side-by-side towards the exit. Other students glanced at him as they passed by. Yep, Holmes is attractive. He’s tall, too. During the Aoi Festival case, even those girls and the Saio-dai livened up around him. He must be popular. Which makes me wonder… Does he have a girlfriend? We’ve been working together for about three months, but I’ve never thought about it since he shows no signs of having one.

After we walked in silence for a while, Holmes peered at my face and asked, “Is something wrong?”

“Wh-What?” I squeaked.

“You seem to be thinking about something.”

“O-Oh, I guess so. Then again, you probably already figured out what I was thinking about, right?”

“I often can, but this time I’m not quite sure, hence why I asked.”

My cheeks grew hot. I couldn’t possibly say, “I was wondering whether or not you have a girlfriend.” He might misunderstand.

“I-It wasn’t anything important,” I said instead.

“I see. I had a feeling that was the case.”

“That’s so mean!”

We laughed as we left the campus. The Hyakumanben intersection came into view again. It was a busy area, as you’d expect from a university town. We were surrounded by restaurants dedicated to dumplings, beef bowls, hamburgers, chicken skewers, and so on, as well as bars.

“There are so many restaurants here,” I remarked.

“Indeed, it’s a lively place.”

“Do you go to bars after class, Holmes?”

“Occasionally, but not much because of the shop.”

“Oh right, you have to work.”

We crossed the street and walked east. The old majestic temple gate immediately came into view. There was a sign that said “Handicraft Market,” and it was extremely crowded inside. All sorts of wares were lined up under parasols and tents, and the area was packed with customers.

“W-Wow, that’s a lot of people,” I said, already overwhelmed before even stepping foot inside.

Holmes chuckled and nodded. “The market is held every month on the fifteenth, but it does get more crowded when it falls on a weekend.”

“Oh right, today’s Sunday. I guess it’s more manageable on weekdays, then.”

We went into the jam-packed market and walked slowly, looking at the items for sale. Some of the clothes looked like things you’d find at any other flea market, but as you’d expect from Kyoto, there were also many vendors selling kimono, sashes, and miscellaneous fabrics. One person would be selling cute animals made of wool felt, while the next would be selling bags and shoes made of genuine leather. There were accessories, purses, wallets—even pickled vegetables, dried sardines, cookies, and coffee. I was surprised and excited by the variety of goods.

“This is fun. It’s like a festival,” I said.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Finding treasures such as this is part of the fun too,” Holmes said, picking up a ceramic cup. “This is a fine cup. The color is deep and it has a nice, elegant shape.”

As he said, it was a lovely cup. It was black mixed with a deep indigo, and it had a soft, round form. But the price tag on the handle said “1,500 yen”—a completely normal price.

“Is that a secret treasure? Was it made by a great artist from the past?” I whispered.

Holmes shook his head. “No, I believe that this is an authentic work of the seller over there.”

I followed his gaze to a rough-looking middle-aged man with unkempt facial hair who was sitting imposingly on a folding chair. Wh-Whoa, he looks like a bad-tempered potter!

“He must be a very kind, sensitive man,” Holmes said softly while gazing at the cup.

“Huh?” My mind stopped in its tracks. “Wh-What do you mean? He looks like the kind of person who’d fight bears on a mountain,” I whispered even more quietly.

Holmes chuckled.

The bearded bear-fighting man frowned at us suspiciously and walked over. “What’ll it be, boy?”

“I’d like to buy this excellent piece. The shape and color are exquisite,” Holmes said with a smile. He offered the money and the man, perhaps embarrassed, said nothing as he wrapped the cup in newspaper and placed it in a plastic bag.

“Here you go. Take these too,” the man said, throwing in two pieces of candy.

H-He added a bonus! Holmes’s praise must’ve made him happy!

“Thank you. I’m looking forward to your next masterpiece, Sensei,” Holmes said as he took the bag.

“D-Don’t say that. Who are you calling ‘Sensei’?!” The man’s face was clearly bright red now.

Oh, I see. Maybe he really is a kind, sensitive man. It sort of made sense now.

“I’m glad I was able to make an unexpected discovery right off the bat,” Holmes said, looking pleased with himself.

“Do you think he’ll become famous one day?” I asked.

“Who knows? I think he has great talent, but becoming famous is a matter of chance… Plus, none of his other works were as brilliant as this cup. He may be lacking in consistency.”

I giggled at that last part. “Maybe this cup was his once-in-a-lifetime success.”

“It could be, but at the same time, it means he does have the skill to make something of this caliber.”

“Maybe being called ‘Sensei’ opened his eyes.”

“I hope that’ll be the case. I really am looking forward to seeing where he goes.”

“Now I want to go treasure hunting too.”

“Yes, feel free. I invited you along so that you could get experience.”

“Oh right. I’ll do my best.”

“You don’t have to treat it like work. Please enjoy yourself.”

“Okay.”

We laughed together as we continued browsing the market. As we were pushing our way through the crowd, a priest came out from the main temple building.

“The story of the origin of Hyakumanben’s name will be presented shortly in the main building. If you’re interested, please come and listen,” bellowed the priest, but the customers remained absorbed in their shopping as if they hadn’t heard him.

“Aoi, while we’re here, would you like to listen to the story?” Holmes asked with a smile.

I nodded and said, “Yes.”

We headed to the main building. The first things I saw inside were an impressive gold altar and a Buddha in the center of the room. Lanterns and canopies in the same gold color hung down from the ceiling.

“Excuse us,” we said as we entered and took off our shoes. We kneeled on the tatami floor. There were only a few others present when we arrived, but the priest continued inviting people in, and before long, a crowd had gathered. The priest smiled as he looked around at us, then bowed.

“I’m happy that you’re enjoying the bazaar, but at times like this, I do recommend visiting the temple and hearing its stories. It’s perfectly fine to wait until after you’ve nabbed your deals, of course,” the priest said. The audience, including me, giggled. It was so unexpected to hear a Buddhist priest say “nab your deals.”

“Now then, I’d like to begin the tale of how Hyakumanben got its name. Please feel free to unwind and sit however you like.”

After hearing him say that, I quickly relaxed my sitting posture.

The priest’s story was as follows:

Around 680 years ago, a terrible plague spread throughout Kyoto, and the situation became dire. Many succumbed to the illness, to the point where their bodies had to be lined up on the Kamo riverbank. The ruler at the time, Emperor Go-Daigo, grieved upon seeing the scene. He asked Kyoto’s Shinto and Buddhist priests for help, but no one was able to solve the crisis.

After several failed attempts, Emperor Go-Daigo went to a well-known priest named Zenna from Chion-ji Temple. Zenna’s solution was to shut himself inside the Imperial Palace and chant “Hail to Amitābha Buddha” over and over again. After seven days of this, his prayer must have reached the Buddha, because the vicious plague subsided.

When he finally emerged from the palace, Emperor Go-Daigo asked him: “Zenna, how many times did you chant the name of Buddha?”

The man smiled gently and said, “One million times”—in Japanese, hyakumanben.

“And that’s how this temple became known as ‘Hyakumanben Chion-ji,’” said the priest, and everyone in the audience clapped.