The Berlin Fried Bread Mystery (Part 5) | Contents | The Florence Cream Puff Mystery (Part 2)
There had been no indications of winter until the end of December, but the weather instantly became freezing cold when the year changed, as if it had been waiting for that very moment. I didn’t know how or where she had spent her winter vacation, but the instant we met in school at the start of the third trimester, Osanai-san spoke with a sulky look on her face.
“There’s a shop I want to visit on the way back, so please escort me there.”
“Sure, but… when?”
“After school today.”
“That’s sudden.”
Apparently not having expected such a response, her eyes widened, and she asked timidly.
“You’re right, it might be a bit sudden… is that a no?”
I’d done some part-time work around the end of the year, so my wallet had money to spare, and I had no plans today. For Osanai-san, who was not afraid of acting on her own, to purposely ask me out to eat something sweet, there must be some circumstances behind it. However, given that our reciprocal relationship had been going on for quite a lengthy period of time now, there was no need to pry into her matters.
“No, I can make it. Alright, let’s go.”
Osanai-san smiled upon hearing my words, her bob cut swaying as she gave a brief nod.
Thus we decided to meet in front of the entranceway. I headed over there to wait right after my classes ended, but it turned out to be a bad location. The chilly, dry wind buffeted me incessantly, and it was really, really cold. Even though it was winter, you could usually get by without cold weather gear during this time period. Due to a mixture of carelessness and bravado, I’d come to school with only a muffler, but it was so cold today that I even felt concerned for my safety. Hugging myself, I restlessly peered at the hallway to see if the person I was waiting for would soon arrive. I looked right, then left, then right again, and she appeared before my eyes.
“Sorry to make you wait.”
Osanai-san had spared no effort to protect herself from the cold. She was wearing a dark blue duffel coat and cream-colored earmuffs, her hands were wrapped in hemmed fur gloves of the same color, and a tartan checkered muffler covered the bottom of her face, up to her eyes. Her small body was bundled up so much that she looked puffy, but her eyes gave off a proud air.
“You seem warm.”
I stated my impression of her appearance, but she tilted her head that was buried in her muffler.
“Eh? It’s winter, so I’m cold.”
Osanai-san retorted.
She had on a pair of thick, ink-black tights, but her shoes were loafers that didn’t look like it offered any resistance to the cold. The two of us exited out of the school gate together, upon which Osanai-san went in front and started walking off at a brisk pace without telling me where she was headed to. She was never a person of many words, so it wasn’t particularly strange for her to be silent, and on top of that, it was bothersome for me to open my mouth in the frigid environment, so we single-mindedly plodded on without exchanging a word while the cold winds tormented us.
It seemed that our destination was in the direction of the station. The number of shops on either side of the road gradually increased, and before I knew it, the sign for the shopping arcade was above my head. Though they weren’t wrapped up as tightly as Osanai-san, the people passing by were all wearing proper cold weather gear, making me feel awfully bleak, since all I had was a muffler.
Eventually, Osanai-san stopped in front of a shop. From its signboard I could tell that it was a Japanese sweets parlor, and arranged in its showcase were samples for sweet red bean soup, dango and the like.
“Here?”
She nodded.
“It’s the New Year.”
I see. I thought it was rare for Osanai-san, who leans more towards Western sweets, to visit a Japanese sweets parlor, but it was apparently an arrangement for her to eat mochi, as one would ordinarily do when welcoming the New Year.
The door rattled as Osanai-san slid it open, and warm air flowed out. It was a small shop with only about six tables, and only one was empty. The tables were all meant for four, which made me understand why Osanai-san refrained from going alone. Many of the customers were elderly, and everyone was enjoying the sweet desserts with joyful expressions.
“Welcome. Here is your table.”
The waiter who ushered us in was equipped with a cheerful voice and dexterous movements, and looked to be a university student. The table we were led to was close to the air conditioner, causing me to let out a sigh of relief as the back of my neck was bathed in warm winds. Osanai-san did not remove her earmuffs or muffler but at least took off her duffel coat. She then picked up a nearby menu and started reading it earnestly. I wanted to take a look at it too.
“Inaka shiruko1…”
“I’ll go with that too.”
“Or gozen shiruko2…”
“I’ll go with that too.”
Osanai-san stared at me reproachfully.
“Kobato-kun, do you have no individuality?”
Well, I’d like to take a look at the menu.
I looked around to see that the names of items that could be ordered were written down on strips of paper and pasted on the amber-colored walls, so I decided to order based off that. In the end, Osanai-san ordered an inaka shiruko, while I ordered a gozen shiruko. For some reason, she looked at me resentfully.
“Oh, so you’re going with koshian3. If we were a bit closer we could have asked to share it.”
She remarked. I was about to say that we could order one each, but Osanai-san would probably end up getting two bowls, and that would result in her being unable to eat dinner. Taking her nutritional balance into consideration, I decided to keep quiet.
Nevertheless, Osanai-san seemed a little weird today. She didn’t look very happy even when she was in a sweets shop she’d taken the trouble to visit, or rather, she seemed too stressed to enjoy herself. When the red bean soup finally arrived, she stared at it, then put her hands together in prayer. She was the type of person to say, “Let’s eat”, but this was the first time I’d seen her offer up a prayer so zealously. Without thinking, I asked.
“Why so serious?”
Osanai-san went, “Hmm”, apparently wondering if she should tell me or not, then sighed and gave a quick reply, as if she didn’t want to waste time with a bowl of red bean soup in front of her.
“It’s my first dessert of the year, so I prayed for misfortune to go away.”
So she was opening the dessert4? I’ve never heard of such a custom, though.
“I had very few opportunities to eat sweet desserts with peace of mind last year. The second half of the year was especially terrible.”
With just those words, Osanai-san removed her muffler and picked up the wooden spoon. She scooped up some of her tsubushian, blowed on it a few times, then brought it to her mouth. She had a cat’s tongue5.
When she mentioned that the second half of last year was terrible, she was probably referring to the time when she visited Kogi-san’s middle school during its Cultural Festival to relish some New York Cheesecake, and had planned to enjoy it one more time before heading home, but was unexpectedly abducted, causing her to be unable to fulfill her wish. There was also that incident with the Newspaper Club. What about early autumn? A popular store opened a branch in Nagoya, so we traveled there to order macarons, and we received four macarons when there should have been only three. Osanai-san and I had no choice but to find out why that was so, but it wasn’t the case that she didn’t get to eat the macarons.
“Patisserie Kogi was good, wasn’t it?”
I asked, causing Osanai-san to stop moving her spoon in midair.
“Right…”
“Was there something you were dissatisfied with?”
“Those fantastic autumn-exclusive macarons were in front of me, but I wasn’t focused enough. All I can remember is the ring… but regret is futile.”
She ended with a phrase that wouldn’t be out of place in a martial arts school.
Since my shiruko had also arrived, I tried a spoonful. The heat and sweetness of the soup drove the cold away from my body, sending a thrill down my spine. Facing each other, the two of us said nothing and only moved our spoons for a moment. After taking a deep breath, I picked up my chopsticks and ate the golden brown mochi, which was very satisfying with its exquisite springiness.
“So…”
I started.
“There must be some catalyst that made you feel that last year was unlucky, right?”
I didn’t have a deep basis for that. If she always thought that she was unlucky last year, praying for her misfortunes to go away and for this year to be better only in the third trimester seemed a little late, at least to me. Osanai-san stopped moving her spoon and looked at me with upturned eyes.
“…As I thought, you’re perceptive.”
“Thanks.”
“I like perceptive people, as long as they don’t see through me.”
Osanai-san put down her spoon and retrieved a thin magazine from her bag. It was a mini-media6 magazine at train stations and bookstores.
“Look at the first article.”
I did as told and flipped the page. An article stating that an Italo-Japan pasticciere gathering was held in Nagoya caught my eye. “Pasticciere” is the Italian word for “patissier”, and according to the article patissiers from Japan and Italy spent some time at a pleasant stand-up party. I was about to ask what this meant to Osanai-san, but realized that instantly hearing the answer was no fun, so I decided to try and figure out what exactly it was in the article that provoked her.
Reading the article, I found that it hardly touched upon the gathering’s opening ceremony or guest speeches; the paper space was mainly allocated to the cuisine served at the party, as well as the desserts. Oh? I flipped back to the table of contents, which listed topics like information of a newly open cake shop and an introduction to new gift products. It seemed that this magazine was created for people who like sweets. Since it was an Italo-Japan gathering, multiple Western confectioneries in the city flexed their strength to preprae Italian desserts. I had no idea what zuppa inglese7 or zabione8 were, but I at least knew tiramisu and panna cotta. Could Osanai-san have suddenly thought herself to be pathetic after reading about such glamorous Italian sweets? That didn’t seem like it, though…
Vexed by me being unable to get the gist of it, Osanai-san uttered one word.
“Photos.”
Ah, the photos. I hadn’t taken a good look at them. The photos were probably taken in a hotel somewhere, for the floor was spacious and carpeted, and a dazzling chandelier was hanging from the ceiling. One photo depicted a gigantic shachihoko9 leaning backwards on a table, though I couldn’t tell if it was a sculpture or candy fashioned into that shape. That obviously represented Nagoya, so I thought there would be something representing Italy, but no such object was shown in the pictures. The cakes displayed in other photos all looked delicious, and were not all exotic goods, but also included those that I was familiar with, like cream puffs. In another picture, a bearded young white man and a middle-aged man who looked to be Japanese were laughing with wineglasses in their hands, and behind them was a girl in a sailor uniform looking up at an angle and grinning from ear to ear as if something interesting had just happened. On top of that photo was a caption “High Spirits at the Gathering Party”, with the word “Party” being right on top of the girl’s head.
Wait, this girl…
“Is that Kogi-san?”
Kogi Cosmos-san was a middle school student we met last year in autumn under unexpected circumstances. I thought I’d seen that sailor uniform before, and it turned out to be the uniform for Reichi Middle School, which Kogi-san attends.
“Yep.”
Osanai-san replied, then furrowed her brows and scooped some red bean soup into her mouth. I see, basically…
“You’re jealous, aren’t you?”
“I’m envious.”
She must have felt a little depressed comparing herself from last year with this Kogi-san who unreservedly appreciate Italian sweets and smile in a formal event. The pace of Osanai-san’s spoon movements increased.
“I had a fever when I saw that article. I was lying in bed thinking about how terrible it was, and that there would be good things when I recover because if not there wouldn’t be balance in the world. That was when I read the article about that wonderful party and saw Kogi-san in a picture with cream on her cheek.”
Now that she mentioned it, Kogi-san’s cheek, or rather the side of her lips did have some cream stuck to it, again making her look like she was having a great time.
“And you were jealous of that, right?”
“No, I was envious.”
Is there such a big difference between the two…10
“Just to be sure, has your fever subsided?”
“Osanai-san’s eyes widened a little.
“Yes, I’m fine now. Thank you.”
You’re welcome. Osanai-san quickly ate her mochi, picked up a bit of shibazuke11 which came as garnish, then took a deep breath.
I closed the magazine and studied the cover that included its name, Orca. It had an actress whose name I didn’t know, smiling with a parfait in front of her.
“This magazine’s amazing. Is Orca some kind of term for cakes or something?”
Osanai-san replied while scooping some shiruko.
“Killer whale.”
Come to think of it… since it was a mini-media magazine from Nagoya, they probably used a name that would bring Nagoya to mind12. Osanai-san munched on candied chestnuts, drank some tea, then waved her left index finger.
“Orca used to be a normal mini-media magazine, but about six years ago their editor-in-chief changed, and they started concentrating on sweets. Thanks to that specialization, they’ve started selling outside the city now.”
“Ah, it wasn’t distributed free of charge?”
“Kobato-kun, you’re not going to secretly take it away, right?”
No way I’d do something like that. Waving her left index finger again, Osanai-san continued.
“…In particular, Orca’s annual year-end sweets shop ranking is unexpectedly influential, and it’s said that shops that get in the rankings get calls from department stores in Tokyo and Osaka. Until last year, Yagoto’s Marronnier Champs got first place for three consecutive years, but that changed this year.”
I could tell where the story was going.
“Could it be Kogi-san?”
She nodded in a satisfied manner.
“So you understand, Kobato-kun. Yes, Patisserie Kogi Annex Ruriko took first place this year.”
It had only opened in autumn last year, so suddenly snagging first place in the year-end rankings was quite the shocking advance. Osanai-san had rushed to that shop right after it opened, which proved how sensitive her antenna was.
“That’s amazing. It’s good that we went there.”
Those words came straight from my heart, but Osanai-san’s countenance unexpectedly clouded over.
“Yeah… but it would be a lot better if we could have just left saying it was delicious.”
Ah, she became gloomy again. She took a big gulp of tea from her teacup, then put it back on the table with a thump.
“…Anyway, I was hoping that good things will happen this year. I want to say that nothing weird was in my sweets, that my precious strawberry tarts weren’t stolen, that I didn’t suddenly get abducted when I simply wanted to eat cake, and that ‘I’ve had enough, thank you very much’ after being satisfied with tasting as many wonderful desserts as I want.”
Imogayu13?
“On that point, today seems fine.”
I replied, meaning to encourage her. Osanai-san nodded after a short pause to think.
“Yeah, the shiruko is really tasty. It warms you up.”
Even as she said that, she didn’t seem to be truly satisfied. Believing it to be good luck, she “opened the dessert” and ate mochi at the start of the year, and while it was in fact delicious, her actions and expressions were slightly different from that of a person experiencing samadhi14. After hearing such a pitiable story, it wasn’t the time to worry about dinner. I offered a suggestion to Osanai-san, who had quickly emptied her bowl and was now glancing at my gozen shiruko.
“How about ordering one more?”
“Eh… but that’s… I can’t do that, Kobato-kun. But… really?”
Who was she showing that troubled pose to? Shouldn’t she just act if she’d already made her decision? In fact, she did just that, and raised a hand to call over a waiter. At that moment, a low groan reached my ears. It was a sound signifying an incoming call or message, from a mobile phone that had been set to manner mode. I instinctively reached for my phone, but it was not moving. Osanai-san retrieved her phone from her skirt pocket and checked the display.
“Speak of the devil.”
She said. Basically, it was a phone call from Kogi-san. Osanai-san stood up from her seat.
“I’ll go out for a bit.”
It was good that it arrived after she’d polished off her red bean soup. After watching her open the sliding door and step outside, I turned towards my gozen shiruko. The bowl was still warm, and even though the smooth soupwas very sweet, I didn’t grow tired of it. I never thought of going to a shop to eat red bean soup, but this experience taught me that it could be a good thing. The sour shibazuke was also a good palate cleanser, and the tea that I would occasionally sip started feeling uncharacteristically tasty. Ah, my body got warmed up.
That was what I thought, when a chilly wind blew in. Osanai-san had opened the sliding door and returned to the store. She seemed to be feeling quite cold, for she was hugging herself with her arms. It was only natural, since she’d gone outside without her winter gear. She had a dark look on her face when she slowly sat down in her chair, likely related to the fact that my bowl was now empty, but that didn’t seem to be the sole reason.
“What’s the matter?”
I asked, and Osanai-san took a mouthful of warm tea before tilting her head.
“I’m not too sure myself, but…”
She stared at her mobile phone as if the answer was written there, then returned it to her pocket with its display turned off.
“Kogi-san was suspended from school. She was crying a lot – and she said she was innocent.”
The Berlin Fried Bread Mystery (Part 5) | Contents | The Florence Cream Puff Mystery (Part 2)
Patreon Supporters
Editors (Tier 2): Suleman, Dedavond, Egi Pratama, Pearl H Nettle
Assistants (Tier 1) : Rolando Sanchez
Thank you very much for all your support!
- Sweet red bean soup (made with chunky sweet bean paste and water) with mochi.
- Sweet red bean soup (made with smooth sweet bean paste and water) with shiratama (rice flour dumplings).
- The mixture of smooth sweet bean paste and water in gozen shiruko. The mixture in inaka shiruko is tsubushian.
- A play on “opening the mirror”, which is a ceremony where kagami mochi (“Mirror mochi” that usually consist of two round rice cakes, the smaller placed on top of the larger, and a Japanese bitter orange with an attached leaf on top) are broken open.
- Japanese saying to describe a person who cannot take hot food because their tongues are heat-sensitive.
- Meaning very small circulation, as opposed to mass media.
- Layers of custard and sponge cake dipped in liqueur.
- A dairy-free, light custard dessert made with egg yolks, sugar, and a sweet wine.
- A sea monster in Japanese folklore with the head of a dragon or tiger or lion and the body of a carp covered entirely in black or grey scales. They are often constructed in a male and female pair at each end of the roof ridge as protector spirits of the castles. The most famous shachihoko today is the kin shachi (golden dolphins) at Nagoya castle, which are plated in 18 karat gold, 0.15 millimetres thick.
- Jealousy implies a certain amount of resentment towards the other party as compared to envy.
- Kyoto-style chopped vegetables pickled in salt with red perilla leaves.
- Killer whale is shachi, which is the first two syllables of shachihoko.
- Refers to a short story by Ryūnosuke Akutagawa (regarded as the father of the Japanese short story), about a poor samurai who is obsessed with imogayu (yam gruel) and wishes for more of it, but loses his appetite when he sees a plentiful amount of it. In the story there is a line similar to “I’ve had enough, thank you very much”, though it is in more archaic Japanese.
- A state of perfect spiritual concentration.