Chapter 4 part 4

We left Kifune Shrine and walked along the river, slightly downhill. The path led to a row of restaurants set up on the riverbed. There are a lot of these, huh?

The restaurants had varying aesthetics. One had red parasols over its tables, while another was Western style. From our higher elevation, we could see people eating on the river terraces, and I couldn’t help but feel elated.

“This is my father’s favorite,” Holmes said, gesturing towards a traditional Japanese restaurant that looked like it had a long history. He stepped inside without hesitation.

In the wide entryway, a waitress wearing a dark blue kimono bowed to us. “Welcome!”

“We have a reservation under the name of ‘Takeshi Ijuin,’” Holmes informed her.

The waitress smiled and nodded. “Understood. Are you his son? I can see the resemblance.” She smiled happily and walked ahead of us into the passage leading further inside. “Right this way.”

The passage led straight outdoors. The door on the other side had been left open, and looking down, we could see the rippling stream and the platforms that had been built above it. The platforms themselves had soft rush mats laid over red carpet and blackish rectangular tables with soft rush floor cushions. The ceiling had bamboo screens acting as sunshades. It was truly Japanese-style luxury.

“This is amazing…” I stood stock still in admiration.

The waitress giggled and said, “Come this way.”

We descended the stone steps in the outdoor-use slippers that’d been provided for us. The chilly mountain breeze caressed my skin, which was hot from hiking.

“Wow, it’s so cool in here,” I said in surprise.

The waitress nodded. “Even in the middle of summer, it only gets to around twenty-five degrees Celsius here. Right now, it’s about twenty-three. Here is your table.”

The table that’d been prepared for us was the one furthest upstream, with possibly the best view of the river. Even further upstream was a man-made waterfall.

“H-Holmes, am I allowed to experience this much luxury at my age?” I murmured without thinking.

Holmes and the waitress both looked surprised for a moment before laughing.

“I think there’s good luxury and bad luxury. If you experience luxury and are able to use it as motivation, then that’s good luxury and a wonderful lesson learned,” Holmes said, sitting down on one of the cushions.

“O-Okay. This is life experience, right?” I sat down across from him, feeling out of my league.

“Besides, it’s not about age. Thanks to my grandfather, I’ve been taken to all sorts of surprising places ever since I was a toddler, where I encountered rare antiques worth hundreds of millions.”

“You’re right.”

All of that became Holmes’s motivation, and that’s why he became the person he is now. I nodded to myself as I came to terms with it.

Soft rays of light streamed in from the gaps in the bamboo screens. The soothing wind blew. We were surrounded by the sounds of the waterfall, stream, and mountain birds. It felt like all of my everyday struggles were being washed away…

Now, if someone asks me what Kibune’s river terraces are like, I’ll be able to give a proper answer. It’s a topic of conversation I’ll be able to use forever. When I thought about it that way, this luxury was a valuable experience, albeit a little excessive. All of the places I’ve been hesitant about before because they were “beyond my means” might turn out to be similarly wonderful experiences if I force myself to go.

As I was absorbed in listening to the sound of the flowing water, our meal arrived. An appetizer of clear broth soup, a sashimi platter, and salt-grilled sweetfish was followed by seared beef, seasonal tempura, parboiled eel, and fresh tofu skin garnished with okra. Lastly came shirataki noodles, more soup, pickled vegetables, rice, and fruit. It all looked so delicious.

The individual servings were small, so at first, I wasn’t sure if it’d be enough. But after finishing everything, I was surprisingly full. If it’d all been brought out at once, I’m sure that wouldn’t have been the case. I was only this satisfied because the food had been brought out bit by bit. How do I put this… It felt like the meal was gentle to my body.

“That was really good. I’m already full,” I said, taking a bite of melon regardless. It was delicious and felt velvety on my tongue.

“Fruit after a meal tastes especially good even when you’re full, right?” Holmes said with a smile. He really blended in well at places like this because of his elegant behavior. Meanwhile, I constantly felt out of place. If it weren’t for the manager, this never would’ve happened. In fact, I might’ve gone my whole life without being able to come here. I really needed to thank him again.

“Come to think of it, does the manager often go to places like this?” I asked.

“I think he comes here once a year. He often ate here with Naotaka Kajiwara, his author friend who owned the mountain lodge in Kurama.”

“Kajiwara passed away three months ago, right?”

“Yes. He’d only just turned sixty, but his diabetes led to complications.”

“Diabetes…”

“He was a rather hearty man from Kyushu and quite the heavy drinker. Apparently, he ignored all of his doctor’s warnings, saying that he’d eat and drink as he pleased. This could be considered a bad luxury, but if he was aware of the risks, then perhaps it was his form of happiness.”

“He was a different type of author from the manager, huh?”

“That could be exactly why they got along.”

Just then, the waitress walked over to us. “Excuse me, you have a phone call from the Kajiwara household.”

“Ah, all right,” Holmes said. He got up and followed the waitress.

Speak of the devil. I guess they’re asking what time he’ll arrive.

Still, the thought of two authors conversing on a Kibune river terrace was awe-inspiring in its own right. The rippling stream and the tree leaves fluttering in the wind… If I had any creative talent, it’d make me want to write something too. Since that’s not possible, maybe I can at least come up with a haiku.

“The rains of summer, gathering into swift flows…” No! At this rate, I’ll be plagiarizing Basho Matsuo! And besides, this river isn’t fast enough to be called a “swift flow.”

“What was that about rains of summer?” came Holmes’s voice from behind me.

I jumped in my seat. “Oh, nothing, really.”

“Are you talking about Mogami River?” Holmes asked. That was the last line of the famous haiku.

“Y-You were listening all along! That’s so cruel!” I exclaimed, my face bright red.

“By the way, this river is called the Kibune River,” Holmes explained with a grin on his face.

Argh, that confident smile with a hint of meanness. A wicked Kyoto guy, through and through.

“A-Anyway, what was the call about?” I pouted, changing the subject.

“Ah, sorry. The person said he’d come pick us up, if that’s all right with you. Would you like to explore Kurama some more first?”

“Oh, I’m fine. We hiked for a long time, so I don’t mind going over now.”

“I’ll let him know, then.” Holmes turned around to leave.

“Wait, is he still on the line?”

“Yes. I wanted to get your approval first.”

“Y-You didn’t have to be so considerate,” I said, although I was secretly happy. Holmes really was a gentleman. A mean one, though.

Still, I wondered what the family of the deceased author wanted to discuss with Holmes. Did he leave behind antiques that they wanted to get appraised? If that’s the case, it shouldn’t have to be Holmes.

I gulped down the cold plum juice as I pondered.