Table of Contents
1
The beginning of a mystery is a newspaper. The first is a newspaper, the next is also a newspaper, and the next one too, and then the next one would be a cookie.
Which means this. One winter day, after returning from school, I opened the newspaper for some reason. I skimmed through the social section, sports section, and the next section without finding anything particularly interesting, and when I opened the local news section, there was a headline in the corner of the page that read “Kira City Native Wins Art Exhibition Award.” It said that a local artist, Shima Taiga, won the Black Bear Award at the San Francisco Biennale with his work <Gaze and Shell>.
On the article, it was written that Shima-shi1 graduated from Funado High School in this city and is 47 years old. It did not explain what <Gaze and Shell> is or how prestigious the Black Bear Award is. There was a photo of him, and he had a gentle smile that was completely unrelated to the sternness one might associate with an award-winning artist.
At first, I couldn’t decide how to react to this information in a Petit Bourgeois way. On one hand, I thought it was small-minded to completely forget about something that had nothing to do with me, while on the other hand, I felt it was quite appropriate to take pride in the success of a senior from my high school who was recognized worldwide. I couldn’t come to a conclusion on this either-or situation, and without feeling the need to conclude anything, I forgot about the article at that moment.
After half a month, I encountered the name Shima Taiga again. When I arrived at school, there was a school newspaper on every student’s desk with the headline “Our School Graduate Wins Art Exhibition Award” written in large letters. It seems that the newspaper club chose to take pride in Shima-shi’s award.
According to the article, the Biennale is an art exhibition held every two years. It mentioned that the Venice Biennale and São Paulo Biennale are world-renowned, and then explained that the San Francisco Biennale is an honor next to the highest award, the Gray Bear Award.
As expected, there was no photo of the award-winning <Gaze and Shell>, but it was understandable that the school newspaper club couldn’t obtain it. Instead, they used a photo from the graduation album, which appeared to be a face shot of him in a school uniform. If Shima Taiga is 47 years old, this would be a photo from nearly 30 years ago. I wondered if they had obtained permission from him for the publication…… I couldn’t help but think about that.
The third time I encountered the name Shima Taiga was during the fifth period of that day. As soon as the class started, Hirata-sensei, the Japanese history teacher, held up the school newspaper with a beaming smile and said:
“You guys, have you read this?”
Hirata-sensei is usually a stern-looking person who teaches about the Fujiwara clan’s tyranny with indignation and teaches about the fates of Raikou and Sanetomo while choking up, and after staring at the school newspaper for a while, he continued with words full of emotion.
“Shima was a classmate of mine. I wondered what he was doing without attending the alumni meeting, and it turns out he has become quite successful. You guys probably don’t understand, but at this age, it’s just nice to know that someone who had been out of touch is alive and well.”
Since Shima-shi is 47 years old, Hirata-sensei is probably around the same age. In fact, I thought he was a bit older. Hirata-sensei continued with a beaming smile.
“This guy was in the art club. As they say, ‘A straw shows which way the wind blows,’ those who grow up are different from the beginning. However, not all those who are different from the beginning will grow up. There are also those who were ordinary in their youth but grow up later. This is about math. Are you guys good at math?”
Watching Hirata-sensei, who was more talkative than usual, I was thinking about the right to be happy. Hirata-sensei joyfully spoke of Shima-shi’s global success as if it were his own, and his tone when talking about their relationship was even somewhat boastful, but I didn’t find it unnatural. So, if I were to take joy in Shima-shi’s success in the same way and act boastfully towards someone else, would that also make sense? Wouldn’t the thin relationship between Shima-shi and me create an ugly situation like an animal borrowing the tiger’s power? Hirata-sensei slapped the school newspaper with the back of his hand.
“He was a strange guy. I remember he was fast. Yes, he was quite fast. It’s nostalgic. But I’ve never seen his work. Koumura-sensei, the art teacher, is also in the same grade, and I’ve seen Koumura-sensei’s paintings, but I don’t remember seeing Shima’s. What a pity.”
Where would the threshold be for being allowed to rejoice in someone else’s success as if it were your own? Do I have the right to rejoice in the success of a fellow alumnus like Hirata-sensei? While thinking about this issue, I listened to Hirata-sensei’s story. In the afternoon of the fifth period, lulled by the warmth of the heater, I was absentmindedly pondering such things.
Also on the following Friday, I encountered the name Shima Taiga again. The name was mentioned by Doujima Kengo from the newspaper club, and the location was in the hallway on my way home. However, it wasn’t that Shima Taiga’s name came up all of a sudden. When Kengo saw me, he exchanged a standard greeting and then scratched his head a bit awkwardly before saying:
“Hey Jougorou, I don’t know if it’s okay to ask you this, but…… could you introduce me to Osanai?”
There’s always a certain level of tension between me and Doujima Kengo.
Kengo thinks of me as a roundabout deceiver, and I think that pretending not to notice such a true thing is a form of kindness. I can’t really say we’re close. It was quite unexpected that Kengo would ask me to mediate with Osanai-san.
“To Osanai-san?”
My voice went a bit high, but I said it anyway.
“Is there something you need?”
Osanai-san, Osanai Yuki, is just an ordinary student in the school. At least, she aspires to be that way and lives a much more inconspicuous school life than I do. There shouldn’t be too many people who know about her original inclination that she wishes to discard.
And Kengo is one of those few people. Last spring, due to unavoidable circumstances, I told Kengo about what kind of person Osanai-san used to be. However, it’s hard to say whether Kengo believed it or not.
Kengo was completely serious. “I have a consultation. You know, I owe her a favor from before.”
Kengo owed Osanai-san a favor……?
“What was it?”
“You forget about other people quickly, huh? It’s about the painting. The most refined painting in the world.”
“…… Ah.”
Of course, I remember.
This was also in spring. The issue was whether to continue storing a painting left in the clubroom by a graduated art club member or to dispose of it. Due to certain circumstances, the newspaper club got involved in this issue, and I was also dragged into it.
“It was Osanai who solved the mystery of that painting. I want to borrow that wisdom again.”
Indeed, that case was solved by Osanai-san. In reality, it was a joint effort between me and Osanai-san, so it’s understandable that Kengo’s phrasing of “I owe her a favor” didn’t quite resonate with me. In other words, Kengo’s evaluation that I forget about others quickly is incorrect. Anyway, the fact that he wants to contact Osanai-san in relation to that case is……
“Is there another strange painting?”
Asking this, Kengo hesitated in his words.
“Strange or not…… well, if you say it’s strange, it is strange…… but it’s a bit serious.”
“I can’t imagine a painting left at school becoming serious. Unless it’s a cursed painting that eats people or something.”
“In a way, that might have been more comfortable.”
Kengo looked around as if to guard against eavesdropping and lowered his voice even more.
“There’s a painting by Shima Taiga left behind. Do you know Shima Taiga?”
“Of course.”
It was good to be able to answer that. If I hadn’t remembered the name Shima Taiga, which was prominently featured in the school newspaper, Kengo from the newspaper club would have felt a bit lonely.
“He won an award at the San Francisco something, right? If that person’s painting was found, it would be a big discovery.”
“Well, that’s true.”
Kengo said this with a bit of hesitation and scratched his head again.
“…… I think it’s better to see the actual thing. Jougorou, come with me.”
I probably should have politely declined, considering that a troublesome situation was unfolding. But I couldn’t do that. Kengo started walking without waiting for my response, and I missed the timing to decline. That too is certainly a fact.
But I have to admit. I was a bit curious about what kind of painting could cause a “serious” problem that would make Kengo want to rely on Osanai-san.
2
It was a gray painting.
The top of the painting is painted gray, probably depicting heavy, overcast clouds. The bottom is painted gray as well, likely representing a dark earth. At the boundary between the sky and the earth, something resembling a white box occupies the space. I have no knowledge of art. I’m so unfamiliar with painting that I can’t even remember if Takahashi Yuichi2 painted <Salmon> or <Shark>. But I understood that this painting was extremely gloomy and lonely. At first glance, it felt desolate, and as I stared at it…… it became even lonelier.
“It’s a bit scary.”
I said, and Kengo nodded silently.
The painting was in a preparatory room near the art room. The desks were moved to create space, and an easel was set up in the middle, with the horizontally long painting leaning against it. The painting was framed, and its surface was covered with a transparent sheet. This sheet is probably some kind of vinyl to protect the painting, but due to the passage of thirty years, it had yellowed overall, giving the entire painting an aged color.
“Scary, huh. I see.”
I heard a voice from the corner of the classroom. Since we entered this classroom, a tall adult with distinctive round glasses had been watching us. He was thin, with curly hair that reached his shoulders, and he wore a long jacket. He was probably a teacher, but I didn’t know him. He continued speaking without introducing himself, though I’ve never seen a teacher who introduces themselves to students.
“Scary is a very straightforward and honest impression. That’s great.”
What he meant was probably that it was a simple impression. I just nodded to him and didn’t respond, then turned to Kengo.
“It does look amazing, but it doesn’t seem to have any problems. This is a painting by Shima Taiga, right?”
“That’s right. There’s a name on the back.”
Kengo said that with a serious face, then slowly took out a book from his school bag. It was large and looked heavy. A sticker with a barcode was stuck on the cover, indicating that it was a collection from the prefectural library. Kengo opened it to the page where a bookmark was inserted.
“Now, look at this.”
Large letters read “Nicolas de Staël,” with a photo of the painting occupying most of the page. I glanced at it and understood what Kengo meant by “problem.”
“I see.”
I compared the framed painting with the one by Nicolas de Staël. “They’re the same.”
“That’s right. No matter how you look at it.”
On the book, the title of the painting is written as “The Square Fort in Antibes.” I wonder how to read it…….
“An-ti-bes?”
The man standing in the corner of the classroom smiled and said.
“That’s pronounced ‘An-teeb.’”
“Vegetable?”
Then Kengo, still frowning, said,
“That’s ‘Andive.’”
Thank you, I was waiting for that word. By the way, let me ask one more thing. Who is that person? I looked at Kengo with my eyes. Doujima Kengo, who was hopelessly slow to catch on in middle school, now immediately understood that request.
“Mr. Koumura. Where is Antibes?”
Thanks to him, I learned that person’s name. He was Mr. Koumura, the art teacher that Mr. Hirata mentioned. Now that I think about it, he does look like an art teacher, perhaps even excessively so. Mr. Koumura glanced away a bit and said,
“In France.”
I intuitively thought that this person probably didn’t know where Antibes was in France or what kind of place it was, but I wasn’t so far gone from a Petit Bourgeois oath to say it out loud.
Then I saw the painting that Kengo wanted to show me. But still, it didn’t seem like there was anything particularly serious about it.
“But what’s wrong with this? A high school student Shima Taiga copied a painting by the artist Nicolas. Isn’t that a normal thing?”
There’s nothing wrong ethically or legally with copying for study purposes. The person might be embarrassed that the copy remained at school, but I couldn’t see any problem beyond that.
Kengo glanced at Mr. Koumura, but the teacher said nothing. Eventually, Kengo let out a small sigh.
“I guess it was a half-hearted story that wouldn’t be understood. Sorry. Let me explain properly. Actually, we’ve received an interview request from a TV station.”
“Hoh.”
“They asked the school for an interview for a program about art, specifically a feature on Shima Taiga. They wanted to know if there was anything that could show what Shima Taiga was like as a high school student. So I looked into it, and here it is, just as you see. When I told the TV station, they were overjoyed and asked if they could film it.”
I raised a hand to stop Kengo.
“Wait a second. You’re pretty detailed, but it wasn’t you who was asked by the TV station if there were any items related to Shima Taiga.”
“No, actually, it was me.”
Kengo scratched his cheek.
“To be precise, the TV station asked the school and me. The fact that the club wrote an article about Shima Taiga reached the TV station, and I was interviewed as a reporter. During that time, they casually asked if there was anything related to Shima Taiga. If such a thing really exists, we can’t overlook it as a club. So I looked into it and found this painting.”
“Oh, that article was written by Kengo.”
“…… The name of the person who wrote it is at the end of the article.”
Oh. I got caught not reading it properly. Kengo didn’t seem to mind much and glanced at the painting.
“At first glance, I thought it was amazing. I don’t understand what these abstract paintings are about, but I thought it was great. But at the same time, I felt like I had seen it somewhere before. So I traced my memory and reread a book I had picked up before……”
Kengo placed his hand on the library book.
“I found this.”
I was quite surprised.
“Then, you were the one who noticed that the paintings were the same?”
“……Uh-huh.”
“I thought you were going to the bookstore’s manga corner to study because you didn’t understand art when you first entered school?”
Kengo’s eyebrows raised.
“Hey. There’s something called a samurai’s mercy. Don’t dig up such old stories.”
“We’re not samurai…….”
“Certainly, in the spring incident, I was of no help at all. So I studied a bit to be able to do at least some work for the newspaper club.”
To be honest, I was impressed. I never thought that Doujima Kengo had been honing his skills like that in the past nine months. I didn’t expect it at all. I’ll apologize in my heart.
Although that aside…… Kengo’s story is still confusing.
“From what I’ve heard so far, it seems that after informing the TV station about this painting, you realized it was a copy. So, if you just say it was a copy, wouldn’t that be enough? Whether they want to film it or not is up to the TV station.”
Mr. Koumura, who had been listening to the conversation, interjected from the side.
“Well, it doesn’t work that way.”
“What do you mean?”
“You could ask Doujima-kun.”
He didn’t answer. I wonder why this teacher is here…… When I looked at Kengo, he said,
“Jougorou.”
The conversation continued.
“If this is just a copy, don’t you think it’s strange that it was kept for thirty years?”
“Well, that’s true.”
“This isn’t a copy. Well, it is a copy, but.”
…… Ah. I might have understood it somehow.
When I was about to voice that thought, Kengo lowered his voice and said exactly what I was thinking.
“This painting is exhibited.”
Right.
That’s indeed a bit serious, just as Kengo said.
That Shima Taiga won the Black Bear Award at the San Francisco Biennale was a nationwide news story, albeit a small one. I don’t know if it was on terrestrial or BS TV, or how long it would take, but it seems to be valuable enough for a TV interview. Of course, it’s a rare piece of good news for both this city and this high school—even though the city and the school didn’t do anything for Mr. Shima.
It’s unsettling that Mr. Shima Taiga submitted a copy as his own work to the exhibition. That’s plagiarism. Even if it’s a thirty-year-old story, his reputation could be ruined, and if the TV station has already been informed about the painting’s existence, it can’t be undone now.
“Good, let’s burn it.”
“You idiot.”
Good comeback.
If this painting is made public, it could indeed become a problem for Shima Taiga. But,
“I know it sounds cold, but I don’t think it’s something you should worry about, Kengo. If Shima Taiga committed plagiarism during his time as a student, it’s up to him to take responsibility.”
“It’s indeed cold. Well, I thought you’d say that. But actually…….”
Rarely hesitating, Kengo slightly lowered his gaze.
“It was me who informed the TV station about the painting.”
…… I see.
“I found out later, but the school told the TV station that there were no items related to Shima Taiga, and even if there were, they couldn’t hand them over without the person’s permission. That’s reasonable. But I, on the other hand, was happy to find the painting that when they asked me if I found anything during the second call, I ended up telling them about this. I realized it was the same as de Staël afterward. …… I was an idiot.”
Mr. Koumura said.
“Doujima-kun. As your friend said, even if you informed the TV station about the painting, this is not your problem but Shima’s. Shima is an adult who can take responsibility for himself. You don’t need to worry about it.”
“You might be right, but, teacher.”
Kengo turned to him.
“I’m suspicious about whether this painting is just a copy or not. If it were a copy, wouldn’t he try to retrieve it? I think it’s strange to leave it in the school for decades.”
“That’s not strange.”
Mr. Koumura seemed indifferent.
“A school is something you cut ties with after graduation. Even if Shima cared about this painting, he might not have had a way to retrieve it.”
Indeed, I don’t even think about going back to my middle school. But Mr. Koumura’s argument seems a bit strange.
“Um, Mr. Koumura was in the same grade as Shima Taiga at this school, right?”
I didn’t miss the slight frown on Mr. Koumura’s face when I asked that.
Mr. Koumura quickly regained his composure and said,
“You know well.”
“Mr. Hirata from Japanese history mentioned it.”
“Ah, I see.”
“If Shima Taiga wanted to retrieve the painting in these thirty years, he might have contacted you.”
But Mr. Koumura smiled wryly and shook his head.
“I haven’t been in touch with him. He probably doesn’t even know that I’m working at this school.”
It was a plausible situation. At least, there was no evidence to say that it couldn’t be the case.
Kengo turned his back to Mr. Koumura and said to me.
“In other words, what I want to ask Osanai is about this painting. If it stays like this, I’ll end up exposing Shima Taiga’s scandal. But if this painting isn’t a copy and was created with some intention, then the story changes. I believe there’s a hidden meaning in this painting. I want Osanai to see it and at least give me her thoughts.”
Kengo seems to misunderstand Osanai-san. Besides, there are other things that should be done first.
“Wouldn’t it be better to contact Shima Taiga first?”
“Of course, I understand. But Shima Taiga is overseas, and I can only contact him through his Japanese agent. The TV station people were also having trouble because they couldn’t reach him directly. Even if I ask the agent to contact him, I can’t say that I want to consult with Shima Taiga because there’s a suspicion of plagiarism. I’m at a dead end.”
“Then that’s unavoidable, but Osanai-san isn’t an art appraiser. This is different from the spring incident. I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t think Osanai-san can do anything about it.”
“I’m being honest too, but I don’t completely trust that Osanai can do anything. I’m drowning. I want to grab onto a reed. Please, Jougorou. Can you at least talk to her?”
Hmm.
I can’t just say to Kengo that I have no intention of passing the message to Osanai-san. It would be unnatural, and even if I refused, Kengo would probably find another way to contact her. Unreasonably, it seems I have no choice but to accept this request.
I looked again at the painting that Shima Taiga had drawn in his youth. It still seemed like an unsettling painting. Suddenly, one thing caught my attention.
“By the way, does this painting have a title?”
Kengo looked up at the ceiling with regret.
“Damn it. Right, I didn’t mention that. The title is one of the reasons I suspect this painting isn’t just a copy. There’s a piece of paper with it written on the back of the frame.”
I went around to the back of the painting. Similar to the sheet covering the painting, there was a yellowed paper with letters written in what seemed to be a sign pen. At the bottom of the paper, in small letters, it said “Shima Taiga,” and in contrast, the title written in large letters was:
<The Sight and the Outer, or fortune-cookie>3
Fortune cookie?
Well, I don’t really understand.
What I can understand now is that at least what is depicted is not a cookie.
3
The winter days are short, and it was already night on the way back. I contacted Osanai-san during that time.
It wasn’t such a complicated story, but it’s hard to share subtle nuances over the phone. It was decided that it would be better to talk directly, so we arranged to meet at a family restaurant along the bypass.
The time was past eight, and if found by those entrusted with upholding law and order, it could lead to being taken in for questioning. As a Petit Bourgeois, one must not commit the folly of being caught wandering at night. The solution is to carry a cram school pass, which allows one to insist that they are just returning from a tutoring session if questioned. It’s a great contradiction that cram schools are open until a time when high school students could be taken in for wandering, and contradictions should be exploited.
It was a cold night. As soon as I started pedaling my bicycle after leaving home, my ears began to sting painfully. I had only put on a windbreaker for warmth, which was a bit reckless. If I tried to speed up to get there quickly, the wind would hit me even harder. In the end, I ended up heading to the meeting place slowly.
The family restaurant had a variety of customers. Since it was after dinner time, there weren’t families enjoying their meals. A man with his neck bowed munching on carbohydrates, a woman on her phone without gazing at the food in front of her, a group of college students excited about something, a paper worker, a student…… and a small girl in the back of the store, sitting with a scarf wrapped around her neck despite being inside the car. Of course, that was Osanai-san.
A waitress cheerfully greeted me.
“Welcome. Are you here by yourself?”
“No, I have someone to meet.”
I answered and headed to Osanai-san’s table.
Osanai-san was not only wearing a scarf but also earmuffs, and she was still in her fluffy down jacket. Indeed, the seat was by the window where the winter chill was creeping in, but her appearance, as if she had just returned from a ski resort, made me chuckle a bit. Osanai-san, who had been cradling a mug with both hands, looked up and glared at me with an upward gaze.
“Why are you laughing?”
Because you’re all bundled up indoors.
There was cocoa in the mug that Osanai-san was holding. It looked warm, and I wanted to order the same, but cocoa could only be ordered as a single item. The drink bar was cheaper, so I chose that. When I returned to the table with hot oolong tea, Osanai-san asked without any preamble.
“So, what’s the matter?”
I understood why Osanai-san didn’t take off her warm clothes in this cold seat. I also started the conversation while wearing my windbreaker.
“Doujima Kengo wants me to introduce him to you.”
“I do think he’s a good person, but I have to think about whether he’s my type.”
“What type of person is Osanai-san’s type?”
“Hmm.”
The answer that finally came after a while was:
“Catherine the Great……?”
Why?
Anyway,
“It’s not about introducing you romantically, but rather that he wants you to mediate. So the beginning of the mystery is a newspaper…….”
I started explaining about Shima Taiga’s award, and considering that Osanai-san had solved the mystery of the refined painting last spring, I conveyed Kengo’s request to determine whether Shima Taiga’s painting was truly just a copy. During this time, Osanai-san didn’t say a word and just stared at the cocoa in her mug. The cocoa was probably already cold.
“That’s why,”
I concluded my story.
“If I refuse, Kengo will probably come to you directly. I think he went through me as a step to be considerate. In summary, Kengo wants you to see the painting and, if possible, grab onto a reed. That’s all.”
Osanai-san continued to stare at the cocoa, tilting her head.
“Strange.”
“What’s strange about it?”
“The cocoa in this kind of shop doesn’t form a milk film on the surface. I wonder why…….”
“It’s the action of proteins.”
I wasn’t wrong, but it was a useless remark that didn’t help at all. After taking a small sip of the cold cocoa and placing the mug down, she finally looked up and stared at me directly.
“As for Doujima-kun’s story,”
She prefaced it and said,
“I don’t want to.”
Well, that’s understandable.
I leaned back deeply in my seat. The reason Osanai-san and I formed our reciprocal relationship was to escape from such complicated matters. To avoid danger, we use each other. Last spring, when Kengo asked me if I wanted to know the identity of the strange painting, Osanai-san took on the task of solving it precisely for that reason, but it turned out badly, and she was misunderstood as someone who could understand paintings. For Osanai-san, it would be a wish to avoid any resemblance that would further spread that false name.
“Well then, what should we do?”
“Since Doujima-kun is a good person, if he hears that I don’t want to, I don’t think he’ll force me.”
“Probably. But if he asks you why you don’t want to, how would you answer?”
“Well…….”
Osanai-san paused and thought deeply.
“…… I don’t have confidence, so I can’t.”
“I don’t think it’s a bad reason, but Kengo was giving off a vibe that he didn’t want to put psychological pressure on you, Osanai-san. If you take that into account, it might be better to have a different reason.”
“Then, um…….”
Osanai-san stared at the simple mug from the family restaurant for a while. I suddenly glanced outside the window. In February’s night, there was no snow in the city, and trucks loaded with goods necessary to sustain society sped west and east.
“Kobato-kun.”
“Hm?”
“What should I do? I can’t think of a reason not to see the painting.”
……That’s true.
Of course, if it turns out that the painting isn’t a copy, Kengo would breathe a sigh of relief and be able to sleep peacefully. It’s true that there’s no obligation to accept, but when you think about it, it’s hard to come up with a reason to refuse such a small request. If I refuse too clearly, they might think I have ulterior motives. According to our spirit of mutual assistance, I should be Osanai-san’s shield in such situations, but even so, I have no idea what to do this time. So I ask.
“By the way, to put it bluntly, why don’t you want to?”
“Because I don’t want to be relied upon.”
Without hesitation, a clear answer came back. After a moment, she added,
“And if I really understand Shima Taiga’s intention, I’ll end up like a high school appraiser.”
Would a teacup be sold for a million yen just because Osanai-san glanced at it and said “Hatena”……? 4
I also answered back.
“I’m not criticizing you, but I want to say in advance that you didn’t seem to mind being relied upon by Kogi-san.”
Kogi-san is a junior high school student living in Nagoya, and by chance, we got to know each other. When Koji-san had a troublesome incident, Osanai-san went to Nagoya to solve it. By the way, I was also taken along at that time, and I think I was somewhat helpful.
Osanai-san released her hands from the mug, looking down, and put them in the pockets of her down jacket.
“I’ve never thought I want to be fair to everyone.”
“…….”
“Kogi-san is a friend. I didn’t choose to be that way, but in the end, we became friends. I did as much as I could because Kogi-san, who was crying, asked for help. Even if Kogi-san herself said halfway through, ‘It’s okay, stop it.’ But I don’t intend to do that for everyone.”
Maybe Osanai-san wouldn’t do the same for me.
Osanai-san suddenly looked up.
“Kobato-kun, what about you?”
“Me?”
“Doujima-kun is your friend, not mine. If the word ‘friend’ doesn’t resonate, it can be an acquaintance or anything else. Do you want to do something for Doujima-kun?”
Me to Kengo, huh.
Like Osanai-san carefully added, Kengo and I can’t be called friends. But it would be a lie to say we have no connection. When Doujima Kengo, with his mouth in a frown, said he was the one who informed the TV station about the painting’s existence, and that he was drowning, did I just think, “Oh, that’s tough,” without any further thought?
…… I might have just thought that.
Over the full-glass window, trucks continue to rush through the bypass. Osanai-san shrank her body against the cold, and I took a sip of hot oolong tea.
“How about this?”
I said something to buy time.
“It’s hard to refuse to see the painting. So, out of obligation, you’ll at least take a look. Then you’ll say it’s beautiful, but nothing else comes to mind.”
Osanai-san let out a small sigh.
“I also thought that was the only compromise. But Kobato-kun,”
Dark eyes looked at me sharply.
“Just to be sure…… just to be sure, but if you find a clue and start deducing, that would mean you used me as a decoy.”
Osanai-san’s words were indeed reasonable.
I and Osanai-san use each other. But it must be with mutual understanding. A little mischief is fine, but using someone without their consent is not acceptable. If I drag Osanai-san out just to pretend to look, and as a result, I notice something and convey it to Kengo, that would be disloyal to Osanai-san.
I suddenly found it amusing. We, of all people, didn’t even consider the most likely possibility that we wouldn’t be able to make any progress on the painting’s mystery from the start. It’s ridiculous and foolish, isn’t it?
Chuckling a bit, the stiffness in my thoughts melted away. I understood, Osanai-san, this is what it means.
“Osanai-san.”
“What is it?”
“I want to help Kengo a little because he’s in trouble. But I don’t want to make a big deal out of it, so I want you to be my decoy. Even if I find something, I’ll be careful about how I convey it so that you don’t become famous as an appraiser.”
Osanai-san nodded.
“Then I understand. I owe you for helping with Kogi-san’s problem, so this will be even.”
“Sorry. I’ll ask you.”
“Then, as a down payment, please give me another cup of hot cocoa.”
I wondered why it had turned into a story about treating her to cocoa when it was supposed to be even. When I asked about that, Osanai-san hugged herself and shivered. I guess it was meant to appeal for cocoa because it’s cold, or maybe it was a gesture saying she had malaria.
As I thought, this matter needed to be organized first.
For that, we needed to strategize a bit more in this family restaurant, and for that, Osanai-san had to endure the cold, which meant we needed to add cocoa. Just as I was about to press the button to call the staff, Osanai-san reached over and pressed it herself, ordering her own cocoa. I couldn’t help but stare at her face.
“Didn’t you want me to buy it for you?”
“…… That was a witty Petit Bourgeois joke.”
I don’t get it.
I also stood up, went to the drink bar, and poured more hot oolong tea. By that time, a new cocoa had also been served, and Osanai-san was happily cradling the mug with both hands. The night was getting late, and it was past nine o’clock. It was getting dangerously late for high school students to be wandering around the city.
“The information Kengo shared about Shima Taiga’s painting was concise, and that’s precisely why it was insufficient. I don’t have the sensitivity to read anything just by looking at the painting. I need more accurate information.”
Osanai-san nodded silently.
“Then, what was insufficient about Kengo? What should I ask in detail?”
“Everything.”
A very clear answer came back.
“…… Specifically,”
“What do you think, Kobato-kun?”
Well, it’s true that this matter was originally a request for Osanai-san’s cooperation, but it was a bit unsatisfactory to be thrown back at me. However, as an opening, it would be reasonable for me to raise questions first.
“First, Kengo said that Shima Taiga’s painting remained. Where was it? Second, who found it?”
“Hold on.”
Osanai-san released her hands from the mug and stopped me.
“How many are you going to list?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You’ll definitely forget later, so write it down.”
Even though that’s true, I don’t have paper or a pen…… Just as I was thinking that, a notebook appeared in Osanai-san’s hand. No way.
“Huh? Where did that come from?”
“Even if you ask where…….”
Osanai-san twisted her body a bit, and I saw that she was wearing a thin backpack. It seemed that the notebook had been pulled out from over her shoulder from inside the backpack. I’m surprised by her dexterity, but more than that,
“Why are you wearing a backpack inside the store?”
“Even if you ask why…… it’s to prevent getting cold from the back…….”
She gave me a look that seemed to say, “What are you saying that’s so obvious?” I wonder if I’m the one being unreasonable…… I don’t think so, though…….
Whatever the case, a notebook appeared, and then a ballpoint pen came out of the backpack. I took the pen and started listing the vague points from Kengo’s story as they came to mind.
<1> Where was Shima Taiga’s painting?
<2> Who found it?
<3> Was it found by chance, or was it being searched for? If it was being searched for, who suggested that it might be there?
<4> Who is Nicolas de Staël?
<5> Why was the found painting in an empty classroom? Although I feel like there might not be a significant reason for this.
<6> Was Kengo the only one who noticed that the painting was a copy of Nicolas de Staël?
<7> What kind of exhibition was the painting displayed in?
<8> How did Kengo know that Shima Taiga’s painting was exhibited in the exhibition, even though it was thirty years ago?
<9> What kind of evaluation did it receive at the exhibition?
<10> Kengo pointed out that it was strange that Shima Taiga hadn’t collected the painting for decades. I pointed out that it’s strange for a student’s painting from decades ago to still be in the school.
<11> Does Shima Taiga not know that it exists? If he did, why hasn’t he done anything about it?
<12> What does the title <The Sight and the Outer, or fortune-cookie> mean?
Writing and crossing out, I finally managed to write this much.
Shima Taiga’s painting left at the high school is undoubtedly a copy of Nicolas de Staël’s, but there are this many unclear points surrounding it. However, they should all be easy to find out.
“If I ask Kengo, it seems like many of these things can be found out tonight. It’s already late, but I’ll call him later.”
Osanai-san lifted the mug and was drinking cocoa, but then looked up at me and said,
“Ok.”
Just to be sure, I asked.
“Osanai-san, do you have any other points you want to know?”
Then Osanai-san tilted her head and gestured for the pen. When I handed her the pen, she put down the mug and wrote in a slightly peculiar handwriting,
<13> Is a fortune-cookie delicious?
4
It was a bit of a shame that we had to cut our meeting at the family restaurant short. We agreed that it was probably not a good idea to be out past ten o’clock, even if we joked about a little night wandering being the charm of a Petit Bourgeois. The cold on the way back was unbearable, and even though Osanai-san, who is sensitive to the cold, rode her bike home in full winter gear, I, in my windbreaker, couldn’t stand the headwind and ended up pushing my bike home.
After taking a bath to warm up, I lay down on my bed in my room just before midnight. In the dark room, relying on the moonlight, I was looking at a copy of a page. It was a photocopy of the page where I had written my questions.
Calling someone at this hour would be rude to anyone. The saying “Even among close friends, there are manners to observe” should be respected. But after a moment’s thought, I concluded that it would be fine if it were Kengo, and I picked up the phone. Since we aren’t close friends, that idiom probably doesn’t apply.
After dialing the mobile phone, the call connected immediately. Considering the time, Kengo’s voice was suspicious and untrustworthy.
“…… What is it?”
I wanted to ask what he meant by “What is it?”
“About this afternoon’s matter.”
“Ah. …… Sorry for asking too much.”
It’s not that much of a burden. I’m just asking Osanai-san to look at the painting and give her opinion.
“I talked to Osanai-san. She said that since she’s not an appraiser, she can’t understand the painting’s meaning. But even if she might not be able to do anything, she’ll try her best to look at it.”
“Is that so?”
From the mobile phone, I could hear a sigh.
“That’s helpful. I’ll be a bother to Osanai too.”
“She seemed troubled by the sudden request, but she didn’t say it was a bother.”
This is a lie. Osanai-san looked bothered. But there was no need to convey that to Kengo.
“I hope so.”
Kengo’s words were few, and his voice lacked strength. He seemed troubled this afternoon, but he didn’t look weak. As I was waiting for the right moment to ask about the thirteen questions I discussed with Osanai-san, Kengo spoke up first.
“Jougorou. I want to ask you something in general.”
“In general, to me?”
“Yeah. You think it’s ridiculous?”
I don’t think so.
“…… When I found Shima Taiga’s painting, I thought it was a great discovery. Honestly, I didn’t think of anything else. Even when I noticed the similarity to de Staël, I was just proud that I was the first to notice something no one else did.”
It seems Kengo found the painting himself. This afternoon, he only mentioned that the newspaper club was looking for it, so I thought someone else found it. At that time, he probably didn’t want to say he found it himself.
I lay on my back and looked up at the dark ceiling.
“Well…… I guess that’s usually how it goes.”
“Would you too?”
“If it were me,”
I thought for a moment and decided to speak my mind.
“I think I would have been even prouder.”
I felt Kengo laughing on the other end of the phone.
“I’m not sure about that. You hide your pride.”
I paused for a moment. I thought I heard the sound of wind on the phone.
“The TV station wants to feature ‘the up-and-coming artist who won an award at the San Francisco Biennale.’ Even if they find out that a thirty-year-old forgery was found in the corner of the school where this artist came from, they probably won’t broadcast it. But the truth will leak out and spread. That painting will become Shima Taiga’s Achilles’ heel. One day, at the right moment, that painting might trip Shima Taiga.”
I remained silent. I had nothing to say other than “I guess so.”
“You said that the one who painted that picture is Shima Taiga, so it’s also Shima Taiga’s responsibility. I want to ask you in general.”
Kengo repeated the same words.
“Does that mean I’m the one who made him take responsibility?”
“…… I’m not sure.”
Kengo didn’t intend to encourage or comfort him. I was just stating what I thought was true.
“Kengo just found the painting.”
“And I told the TV station about it. …… I was happy that a school senior was recognized worldwide. I was supposed to write an article saying, ‘Look at this amazing senior!’ and that was it. I never intended to trip Shima Taiga.”
“To me, it seems like Kengo just drew the short straw. If Kengo hadn’t found it, another club member would have found the painting. And probably, that person also told the TV station.”
“That might be true, but.”
“I think Kengo regrets bothering Shima Taiga. What you really regret is…….”
“…… What is it?”
I barely swallowed my words.
“Never mind. I’m sorry. I just had a feeling.”
I was going to say this. Kengo regrets finding Shima Taiga’s painting and then realizing that it was the same as de Staël’s painting. He was the first to notice the possibility of forgery, and he couldn’t help but be happy about it. That was probably a hit, and a Petit Bourgeois doesn’t hit the mark in people’s hearts.
I changed hands holding the phone.
“Kengo. Osanai-san wants to know the situation in which the painting was found. I just heard that Kengo found the painting. So, where did you find it? Did you know it was there?”
Kengo must have realized that the conversation had shifted. But he seemed relieved and answered in a slightly more composed voice.
“It was in the art preparation room. I heard that Mr. Koumura said he thought he saw Shima Taiga’s painting when he did a big cleanup of the art preparation room before, so we searched the club.”
“Was there any special reason for displaying the found painting in an empty classroom?”
“No. I thought it would be better to display it like that for multiple people to see, so I consulted with Mr. Koumura, and we, the newspaper club, moved it. The art preparation room is small.”
I didn’t choose art as an elective subject, so I didn’t know Mr. Koumura’s face, and I didn’t know that the art preparation room was small.
“And, was Kengo the only one who noticed that it was a copy of de Staël?”
“That’s right.”
“Amazing.”
“…… Do you want to ask anything else?”
“Actually, I do.”
I checked my notes.
“You said that the painting was exhibited in an exhibition. I want to know how Kengo knows that and what the name of that exhibition is.”
“Is it related to the identity of the painting……?”
Kengo’s suspicious tone was audible, but he quickly dismissed it himself.
“Well, I shouldn’t have questioned your question when I asked you. I’m sorry. I think you can guess, but Mr. Koumura knew about it. Mr. Koumura and Shima Taiga were in the same year and both were in the art club. It seems that when they were in their second year, Shima Taiga submitted that painting to the prefectural exhibition.”
I’ve never heard of a “prefectural exhibition,” but I guess there is such a thing.
“I wonder why it was in the second year. It seems like it would be submitted in the third year as a culmination of three years.”
I said it without thinking, and Kengo’s voice was tinged with disbelief.
“That’s up to the person. If I had to guess, the prefectural exhibition is held in the fall. I think it would be difficult to devote the summer vacation of the third year to production.”
Ah, because of entrance exams. That makes sense.
“And, Kengo said that the painting was kept for thirty years because it was an exhibition piece, right?”
“Did I say that?”
“I think the exact wording was different, but you said something like that.”
From the other end of the phone, I heard Kengo muttering something regretfully.
“That’s not accurate. To explain in order, when Mr. Koumura and the others were in their second year, Shima Taiga submitted that painting to the prefectural exhibition, and it was displayed. Mr. Koumura graduated from university, became a teacher, and has been at this high school ever since. After he started working here for a while, he found that painting while cleaning the art preparation room. It seems to be treated as a forgotten item of a graduate. Normally, he would contact the owner to retrieve it or dispose of it with the owner’s permission, but he had already lost contact with Shima Taiga at that point. It’s a painting with memories, so he couldn’t bring himself to dispose of it until now.”
Finding it strange that a graduate’s work was kept for thirty years just because it was exhibited in an exhibition, I could understand the circumstances after hearing the explanation.
“Then, one last thing. Does Shima Taiga know that the painting still exists?”
“I don’t know.”
Kengo answered in an uncertain tone.
“I don’t know if the TV station told Shima Taiga’s agent.”
“That’s true. I understand.”
Glancing at the clock, it was close to one o’clock.
“It’s getting pretty late.”
“Though, I’m glad you contacted me early.”
“You’re welcome. Since it’s a matter of discussion, I don’t know if this can be a help. …… for Osanai-san.”
“Like I said at school, I’m not expecting much. Sorry for being rude. See you.”
Right before hanging up, I noticed that there was one more item left on my notes.
“Ah, wait! I wanted to ask one more thing.”
Kengo seemed to have already moved the phone away from his ear, so his reaction was slow.
“…… What is it? Is it important?”
“I don’t know, but Osanai-san wants to know.”
“Ask me anything. Even the smallest thing, if it can be a hint, it’s a bonus.”
“You’re right, so I’ll ask.”
“Alright.”
“Is a fortune cookie delicious?”
The answer took a while to come back. I think Kengo was probably wondering whether to be angry, laugh, or take it seriously. His voice was solemnly serious.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have any information on that.”
5
Before sleeping, I briefly summarized my conversation with Kengo and sent a message to Osanai-san from my mobile phone. When I woke up the next morning, I received a concise reply from Osanai-san.
“Art museum? Library?”
It’s Saturday, but it seems Osanai-san intends to proceed with the investigation. She really is quick to act once she decides to do something.
Osanai-san’s message means this. From the conversation with Kengo, I learned that Shima Taiga’s painting was exhibited in the prefectural exhibition. Since it was exhibited in his second year of high school, we can almost narrow down the year. If I want to investigate the records of that year’s prefectural exhibition, would the art museum or the library be more appropriate?
I thought for a moment and replied,
“Library.”
This way, we can access a wider variety of materials, and more importantly, it’s closer to my house than the art museum. After a quick breakfast and getting ready, I head to the prefectural library on my bicycle. Based on yesterday’s painful experience, or rather, the painfully cold experience, I chose a jacket with a lining for warmth.
We agreed to meet at the main lobby of the prefectural library. I arrived about four minutes before the appointment, but Osanai-san was already there. She buried her face in a scarf, put her hands in the pockets of her duffel coat, and sat on a long bench near the entrance, observing people coming and going. When our eyes met, she nodded slightly.
I don’t think greetings are necessary. First, I asked.
“Do you want to investigate right away? Or would it be better to tell you more about Kengo’s story?”
Osanai-san briefly replied,
“Latter.”
Then she turned her head and glanced at the corner of the lobby.
“It’s sunnier over there, so let’s move.”
“Alright. …… You could have waited over there. Not in such a windy place.”
“Good idea. I wish I had heard it earlier.”
I guess she positioned herself where she could see me coming in. Osanai-san is sometimes strangely conscientious, and I don’t really understand when that conscientiousness comes into play.
The prefectural library is a spacious space with plenty of glass, creating a sense of openness. It’s so open that it’s hot in summer and cold in winter, and it has received great praise from users for allowing them to feel the changing seasons on their skin. The interior is also an open structure, completely devoid of confinement, and incidentally has nothing to do with heating and cooling efficiency. The long bench that Osanai-san chose was bathed in the warm winter sun, indeed much warmer than other places. I asked if she wanted something to drink since there was a vending machine nearby, but Osanai-san shook her head side to side.
I took a copy out of my bag.
“I’ll convey it again, even though I lightly mentioned it in the message.”
Then, I looked down at the copy and recalled Kengo’s story, conveying it to Osanai-san. She only occasionally nodded slightly and didn’t interrupt with any questions. When I finished speaking, she said “Hmm” with a slightly cold expression.
Then it was Osanai-san’s turn to report.
“Nicolas de Staël was a Russian who was exiled from Russia for the revolution. He painted in Paris and eventually committed suicide. I don’t know the reason.”
So Kengo knew about the exiled Russian’s painting? Again, it’s surprising.
“The prefectural exhibition is held every fall, usually at the end of September or the beginning of October. The eligibility to exhibit is for residents of the prefecture and those who have had an address in the prefecture for a certain period. Probably, there isn’t strict scrutiny on this point, so in practice, anyone can submit.”
Even though I chose a warm chair, the sun is directly in front of me, and even in winter, it’s still dazzling. Osanai-san lowered her face and shook her legs a bit.
“Divided into general and youth categories, adults cannot submit to the youth category, but the youth can submit to the general category. The judging criteria weren’t written anywhere, but not all submissions are displayed, and those that go against public order and morals…….”
Against public order and morals, huh.
“It seems that those that simply don’t meet the level for display are rejected.”
Which means that Shima Taiga’s <The Sight and the Outer, or fortune-cookie> was exhibited in either the youth or general category. Kengo clearly stated that the painting was exhibited, so if there are no mistakes in the story, it shouldn’t have been rejected.
“Just in case,”
Osanai-san continues her words.
“The exhibition is divided into seven divisions: Japanese painting, Western painting, sculpture, crafts, photography, calligraphy, and modeling.”
“Amazing. You can list all seven divisions without looking. Say it again.”
“Japanese painting, Western painting, sculpture, crafts, photography, calligraphy, and modeling.”
“Amazing, amazing.”
Osanai-san remained expressionless and slightly arched her body. She might have intended to puff out her chest, but because of the thick duffel coat, her movements were hard to discern, and she just looked like a person looking up.
Shima Taiga’s painting is a Western painting. This gives us a rough idea of where to look.
“Then, shall we start?”
I said that and stood up from the long bench.
“Shima Taiga is now forty-seven years old. Since he exhibited in his second year of high school, the most likely possibility is exactly thirty years ago. Depending on what month his birthday is, and considering the possibility of repeating a year or failing an entrance exam, it would be best to check the Western painting category for about two years after that.”
“Then, I’ll leave that to you, Kobato-kun. I have something else I want to investigate, so let’s meet in front of the lending counter in an hour.”
Investigating separately? That’s fine, but,
“What do you mean by ‘something else’?”
“It’s a secret.”
“…… You aren’t investigating the taste of fortune cookies, are you?”
Osanai-san also stood up from the long bench, smiled for a moment, and without saying anything more, entered the library floor. Well, she probably has something in mind, and I’ll do my part.
Asking the librarian, I easily found the catalog for the prefectural exhibition. The first one was held exactly forty years ago. So, I should look for the tenth one. I took out the catalogs from the shelves, including those from subsequent years, and carried them to a table for reference. Most of the tables were occupied by students studying and elderly people idly sitting around, and it seemed that not many people were reading library books.
As I started looking at the exhibited works of the tenth prefectural exhibition, youth category, I found the total number of submissions and displayed works written at the beginning of the catalog. According to that, about ten percent of the submitted works were rejected. Curious, I also checked the general category, and it seemed that the judging was stricter there, with about fifty to sixty percent being rejected.
The award-winning works are displayed with photos in the catalog, and I hoped that Shima Taiga’s painting would be among them. As I flipped through the pages, I found that the grand prize-winning work in the youth category of the tenth prefectural exhibition was titled <Myself>. It was an abstract painting with pink and red colors dancing, measuring 130 cm x 194 cm, on board, oil paint. I looked at the excellent and encouragement awards, but <The Sight and the Outer, or fortune-cookie> was not listed. It seems it didn’t win an award.
The complete list of exhibited works was at the end. I checked each name of the exhibitors and their exhibited works written in small letters.
“…… Not here.”
Shima Taiga’s name and the title of the painting couldn’t be found. I checked the list of Western paintings in the general category, but again, neither name was found. I wondered if Shima Taiga was a pseudonym and if there was a different real name, but the painting I saw in the empty classroom had a paper with “Shima Taiga” clearly written on it.
Then, could it be that he repeated a year or something? I checked the catalogs for the eleventh and twelfth exhibitions. First, I looked at the award-winning works with photos, then the lists, carefully tracing both the youth and general categories with my finger to avoid missing anything.
“Hmm?”
Words slipped out of my mouth.
True, it’s not there. I checked twice, but Shima Taiga’s name was nowhere to be found. Are there multiple exhibitions called the prefectural exhibition? I don’t think so, but just to be sure, I went to the reference counter and asked the librarian, and the answer was, “There is only one prefectural exhibition with materials here.”
Then, the information that “Shima Taiga’s painting was exhibited in the prefectural exhibition” itself becomes suspicious. If the painting isn’t exhibited in any exhibition, then it’s just a copy or a study, and there’s nothing to feel guilty about. The information that “the painting from thirty years ago has been stored in the art preparation room because it was exhibited in the prefectural exhibition” was denied in my phone call with Kengo, so even if the fact of the exhibition itself didn’t exist, there would be no contradiction.
Could it be that it was submitted but rejected? Kengo clearly stated in last night’s phone call that it was submitted and exhibited.
No, I should investigate the materials at hand before doubting the source of information. For example, that painting might be classified as a Japanese painting rather than a Western painting in the context of the exhibition. I checked the pages for Japanese paintings.
…… Not there.
To be sure, it shouldn’t be a photograph or a calligraphy. So, is the information twisted somewhere? Kengo’s information that the painting was exhibited in the exhibition should have come from Mr. Koumura. Since it was thirty years ago, could Mr. Koumura have misunderstood? While thinking about this, I flipped through the pages, occasionally checking the time. I thought I had to go to the promised meeting place when I caught a glimpse of the string “fortune-cookie” at the edge of my vision while looking at the list of names and all exhibited works. But in the next moment, my finger flipped several pages at once.
Ah, I involuntarily exclaimed again. The cold gazes of the people around me pierced through. Feeling apologetic, I focused my eyes back on the catalog. What page did I just see?
For the next few minutes, I continued flipping through the catalog in search of the text I had seen. Eventually, I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder. When I looked up and turned around, Osanai-san was standing there. She spoke in a hushed voice.
“You didn’t come.”
Sorry.
Though, I just found it. I placed my index finger on the text and showed it to Osanai-san. She didn’t seem particularly impressed. She probably thought she had just found the name that should be there in the right place. I slid my finger over the catalog and stopped at the top of the list. Seeing the words written there, Osanai-san widened her eyes a bit. It read “Youth Category, Modeling Division.”
“Modeling division……?”
Tilting her head, Osanai-san looked puzzled. This requires a bit of consideration, but no matter how quietly we speak, discussing it here would draw disapproving looks. As a Petit Bourgeois…… no, even if not a Petit Bourgeois, I want to maintain the tranquility of the library. While I was thinking about what to do, Osanai-san suggested,
“There’s a good place on the second floor.”
As Osanai-san guided me, we arrived at a small chair for one person, surrounded by bookshelves, without sunlight, dusty and quiet, in an unfrequented area. On a holiday in a public library where all the reading tables were nearly full, I was impressed by how she could find such a hidden spot.
I placed the prefectural exhibition catalog on a small desk, and Osanai-san placed a large magazine on it. There was only one chair, so Osanai-san sat down, and I stood next to her, looking around. Here, it seemed safe to speak in a low voice.
“Modeling division……?”
Osanai-san repeated the exact same words with the same intonation as before. I opened the list of exhibitors in the modeling division of the tenth prefectural exhibition catalog again. “Shima Taiga, <The Sight and the Outer, or fortune-cookie>, 165 cm x 102 cm, canvas, oil paint”.
“What does ‘modeling’ mean?”
I asked, and Osanai-san tilted her head as well.
“Making shapes…… but it shouldn’t be the same as sculpture.”
There’s a separate sculpture division, so it should be different. We don’t need to ponder over it. The catalog has photos of the award-winning works. By looking at the modeling division’s, we can immediately understand what it refers to.
The grand prize in the modeling division of the tenth prefectural exhibition was something titled <Cage>. It can only be described as something. Iron rods and boxes are combined, both rusted, and it has an ominous feel to it. The excellent award is <Beyond Time>, shaped like an egg with wings. The encouragement award is <Shape of Growth>, which can be described as a strange shape resembling a mushroom writhing in abdominal pain. I don’t know the exact definition, but when lined up like this, the atmosphere comes through. The modeling division is essentially,
“Other, free division, maybe…….”
Osanai-san used a more appropriate term.
“Object, maybe…….”
On the modeling division page, I said.
“What does it mean that Shima Taiga’s painting was exhibited in the modeling division?”
“That it’s neither a Western painting nor a Japanese painting.”
Osanai-san answered.
“To be precise, it means that it was more a work of the modeling division than a Western or Japanese painting.”
I hadn’t believed Kengo’s words that “this painting has a hidden true meaning” until this point. I thought it was a somewhat uncharacteristic escapism for Kengo, a way to turn away from the fact that he had become the starting point for spreading Shima Taiga’s plagiarism to the world. I would do as much as I could, and while I thought I might be able to uncover whatever “true meaning” existed, I also believed that such a thing probably didn’t exist in the first place. But the wind was changing. That painting…… no, that object has something.
As I realized this, strange points began to emerge.
“Osanai-san. This ‘165 cm x 102 cm’ is the size, right?”
“Yes.”
“Is it vertical times horizontal or horizontal times vertical?”
Osanai-san and I checked the other modeling works. Comparing the numbers before and after the multiplication sign, for vertical works, the first number is larger, while for horizontal works, the second number is larger.
“Vertical times horizontal.”
Osana-san answered. Then, something strange arises.
“Osanai-san hasn’t seen it yet, but the painting found at our school is horizontal. The width of 102 cm isn’t strange. I think it was about that size. But the height…….”
It’s hard to imagine that the work was meant to be viewed vertically. The original painting by de Staël is horizontal. Osanai-san nodded and pointed to part of the list.
“They all have the materials used written. <Cage> is iron and aluminum, <Shape of Growth> is plaster and feathers. Kobato-kun, was Shima Taiga’s work made of wood?”
“…… I wonder.”
There were wooden parts, but not all of it was wood.
“The frame was wooden. It might be beech.”
“You know,”
Osanai-san said.
“I think this work was in the shape of ‘a painting leaning against an easel’.”
A bold deduction. The basis is thin.
Though I thought it was that as soon as I heard it. If it were an easel, the height would be just about that. Or even if it didn’t have the shape of an easel, the de Staël copy might have been placed on some kind of decorative stand made of wood—maybe in the shape of a box of oranges or a vaulting horse. I was almost certain of it. The dimensions in the catalog are for this state.
“Do you think Shima Taiga’s work only made sense when combined with the easel?”
When I asked, Osanai-san tilted her head.
“I can’t say for sure since I haven’t seen it, but…… I don’t think so. Because the painting found in the art preparation room had a paper with the title attached, right? So, that painting alone was sufficient as a work. Even if the easel provided the vertical length to the entire work made of wood, it might have been part of the work, but I don’t think it was inseparable.”
“You’re right. It certainly is.”
But even if that painting was part of an object rather than a painting, it doesn’t mean we’ve reached the “true meaning” Kengo is looking for. That object has something. But what is it?
Out of nowhere, Osanai-san closed the catalog.
“By the way,”
She said, showing me the cover of the magazine she brought. It’s the March issue of a magazine called “Art Depth.” Since it’s February now, this must have just come out. The cover prominently features the Pre-Raphaelites as this month’s special feature, and in the corner of the cover, there were the words “Shima Taiga Interview.”
“Huh.”
Words of admiration slipped out louder than I intended. I quickly covered my mouth, looked around, and confirmed that there were still no people, then spoke in a low voice.
“You found it well.”
“I thought there might be something. I was hoping to find something in past articles, but I thought maybe the latest issue would have the award interview.”
“Have you read it yet?”
“I just saw the opening photo. The interview wasn’t that long, but I thought it might be rude to skim through it.”
Then, let’s get started. Osanai-san opened the pages of “Art Depth.”
On the first page of the interview, there’s a photo taking up the entire page. What appears in it is something indescribable.
If I had to describe it, it looks like a Western-style ghost statue covered with a sheet. The size of the statue is much larger than the adult man standing next to it. I wonder what it is made of. The sheet is rippled and wrinkled in many places, and torn in places, revealing something. One wrong step could turn it into a horror movie fog, but when I first saw it, I thought it looked lonely. Lonely and somehow scary. When I thought that, I realized that the impression I got was the same as the impression I got when I saw the copy of Nicolas de Staël yesterday after school.
The title is “The Gaze and the Shell.” Gaze and Shell. Is this the work that won the Black Bear Award at the San Francisco Biennale? And…… it wasn’t a painting, but a three-dimensional work?
Osanai-san said.
“I thought it was necessary to see this photo. I don’t know much about art, but I know that many artists find a theme and continue to pursue it. The one found in the art preparation room is titled <The Sight and the Outer, or fortune-cookie>, right? Then <Gaze and Shell> should be its development.”
I momentarily lost the logical path. Why is it necessary to look at the current work <Gaze and Shell> to question the true meaning of the thirty-year-old work <The Sight and the Outer, or fortune-cookie>? Just because many people pursue a single theme doesn’t provide much basis.
As if she noticed my confusion, Osanai-san added a brief explanation.
“Gaze means sight.”5
“Oh…….”
I felt my face turn red. How could I not have doubted the connection between the past and present works, which were so blatantly connected, until it was pointed out to me? I was too careless to even have words for it.
“Osanai-san,”
I attempted a futile resistance to protect my self-esteem.
“Did you know the word ‘gaze’?”
If she knew it, it would be a matter of knowledge rather than observation or reasoning. But Osanai-san shook her head.
“Except for the fortune cookie, I thought maybe it was the same because of the way the title A and B is given, so I looked it up. I kind of knew about ‘shell’.”
Then, there was almost no difference in knowledge between Osanai-san and me.
“As expected of Osanai-san.”
Osanai-san arched her body again. I wonder if it’s her recent favorite gesture…… I should tell her someday that it doesn’t look like she’s puffing out her chest.
So, we both turned our eyes to the magazine page at the same time. We read the interview.
- Congratulations on winning the Black Bear Award. Please tell us your feelings.
Thank you. This is my tenth time exhibiting at the San Francisco Biennale, and most of the works I thought were “amazing” have usually received either the Black Bear Award or the White Bear Award (editor’s note: the award for the most votes from visitors). So, when I’m told that my work falls into that category, it feels strange.
- You are the first Japanese to win the Black Bear Award for an object. What do you think is the charm of objects?
Actually, I’m not particularly attached to objects. Every time I think about what to do, and when I create something thinking that this is the only way, it ends up being classified as an object.
- It was a work that stimulates the viewer’s imagination and is very exciting. I always want to see the hidden parts of your work, Shima-sensei.
That’s right, imagination is important. It’s an important part of my theme.
- The title <Gaze and Shell> has been used several times.
Indeed, it’s a bit of a one-trick pony (laughs). Including the old ones, this is probably the fourteenth work. If I don’t get the number 14 right, I might lose track myself. Well, some people make their works “Untitled,” so mine is kind of like that.
- What was the first <Gaze and Shell> like?
Oh dear. It’s an embarrassing sketch. The essence of what I’m doing hasn’t changed much from now, but the method was crude. I don’t have it on hand either.
- What kind of attachment do you have to the <Gaze and Shell> series?
I’m often asked this, but…… I can’t say it well. Sometimes I talk about it, but when I was a child, I lived in San Francisco and often went to Chinese restaurants with my family. After the meal, we would get fortune cookies. Have you ever eaten fortune cookies?
- No, I haven’t.
I see. It’s a harmless thing where you break it open to see the fortune inside, and it’s fun to read the fortune, but sometimes you come across a poetic line that takes your breath away. It seems that this city has developed like that. I still remember a place called Red Dragon nearby, and their fortune cookies were delicious.
- So memorable?
Yes. They had a hint of coconut, but it wasn’t just that. Unfortunately, the store is no longer there, so I can never taste it again. It left a deep impression on me as a child. Fortune cookies are meant to be broken open to see the fortune inside. If there are a hundred people, a hundred people only care about the fortune. I do too. Yet, the people at that store thought about how to make the cookie outside everyone’s consciousness delicious. I think they went through quite a bit of trial and error. The taste changed sometimes, so they must have continued to improve it. I can’t say it well, but I think there’s something in that that makes this world worth living in. I feel like my reason for continuing art is to shape that intuition from back then.
- The shell is the outer shell, right? Then what does gaze, sight, mean to you, Shima-san?
Things that caress the surface. After all, human eyes can only caress the surface. So if you want to convey something to others, you have to present your spirit on the surface. Whether it’s something you love or something you hate. But is that surface the same as the inner depths? No, it’s not that simple. Nothing is simple.
- What kind of things do you plan to create in the future?
I’m not sure, but I think the theme will ultimately be one. It’s the fortune cookie.
- Finally, please say a word to the Japanese readers.
It’s getting hotter every year. Please be careful of heat stroke.
- Thank you very much.
(In the San Francisco Atelier)
I couldn’t help but look at Osanai-san. She had a face like a pigeon that had just been hit by a bean cannon. When she noticed my gaze, she shook her head vigorously.
“I didn’t know.”
She hadn’t said anything yet. But just in case, I said it.
“It was a big problem whether the fortune cookie was delicious or not.”
“I didn’t go knowing that.”
“Then?”
“It’s all coincidence, not superpowers or prophecies.”
I wondered why she was so adamant about it.
Anyway. While looking at the black-skinned sheet ghost, I said.
“I think I understand how Shima Taiga wanted that painting to be seen.”
Osanai-san nodded.
“I think I’m ready to see the painting.”
“The problem is the width and depth.”
“Yeah. And the fortune cookie.”
In a deserted corner of the library, we whispered to each other.
6
The “appraisal meeting” was decided for Monday after school. After classes ended, the school building began to be enveloped in the noise of students leaving and doing club activities. The sounds of music clubs and the shouts of sports clubs could be heard near and far. It wasn’t necessary for me to be present when Osanai-san looked at the painting. Kengo hadn’t asked me to come either. But I chose to go. It might not be of any help, but it could be.
In the meantime, I would go to pick up Osanai-san and guide her to the empty classroom where <The Sight and the Outer, or fortune-cookie> was placed. As we walked down the hallway, Osanai-san didn’t seem particularly tense or relaxed, but she had a slightly annoyed expression on her face.
The empty classroom was unlocked. Just like Friday, the desk and chairs were moved to create a space where the copy of Nicolas de Staël, or Shima Taiga’s sculptural work, was framed and placed on an easel. Doujima Kengo was standing there with a serious expression, and in the corner of the classroom, Art teacher Koumura was standing with a somewhat smiling face.
“Osanai, I’m sorry.”
Kengo called out, but Osanai-san didn’t respond. She stood tall, hiding behind me.
“Osanai-san, if you hide, he won’t be able to see you.”
I said over my shoulder, and Osanai-san nodded and stepped forward. First, she bowed to Mr. Koumura in the corner of the classroom and said in a voice that seemed like it would disappear.
“Hello.”
As if he didn’t expect a greeting here, Mr. Koumura replied with a puzzled “Ah, hello.” Then to Kengo, he said,
“Is this the one? Is she the one who is knowledgeable?”
“I don’t know if she’s knowledgeable, but she helped me before.”
“I see.”
“Teacher, you know.”
Kengo spoke as if he had made up his mind.
“I’m sorry to take your time during club activities. We’re just going to look at the painting, so…….”
“Is it okay if I’m not here? That’s not how it works. If something happens to the important painting, it would be irreparable.”
I actually wondered why Mr. Koumura was there. Was it for the management of the work?
“Alright. Then, thank you.”
Kengo bowed his head.
In the brief exchange, Osanai-san stood in front of the painting and was measuring its width with a tape measure she had somehow obtained. It was a remarkable feat that took advantage of the psychological gaps of everyone present. I heard Osanai-san’s whisper in my ear.
“114 cm.”
That number was 12 cm longer than the dimensions confirmed in the catalog of the 10th Prefectural Exhibition. Osanai-san showed no signs of agitation at the increased width. In other words, she had already anticipated it.
What is the identity of the additional 12 cm? Of course, it’s the frame. When this painting was exhibited at the Prefectural Exhibition, it was probably not framed. If Osanai-san’s prediction that “the painting is propped up on an easel” is the complete picture of Shima Taiga’s sculptural work, then it would be strange for it to be framed.
The painting was probably framed for preservation after the Prefectural Exhibition ended.
Which means that the current state is different from that of thirty years ago.
Osanai-san turned to Kengo.
“Doujima-kun. I want to remove the frame.”
“The frame?”
Kengo showed his confusion.
“Won’t it damage the painting?”
“I’m not sure…… but I want to remove it.”
Amazing. Without giving any reason, and not even looking at Kengo’s face, she timidly made her request. If Kengo said he couldn’t do it, it would be the best outcome for Osanai-san as an excuse.
But unfortunately, Doujima Kengo is the type of person who will do anything to help if you ask him to push through. He answered shortly with “Understood” and said to Mr. Koumura.
“I’m going to remove the frame. What should I do to avoid damaging the painting?”
Kengo is also quite impressive. He didn’t say “May I remove the frame?” but rather “I’m going to remove the frame.” Mr. Koumura had a serious expression, but perhaps seeing that Kengo wouldn’t back down, he sighed and said,
“Nothing should go wrong. I’ll do it.”
As he said that, he stepped in front of the painting.
“There’s no taping. This will be quick.”
He’s indeed an art teacher. In no time, he flipped the frame over and removed the canvas, propping it back up on the easel. The colors that had been hidden behind the yellowed plastic sheet emerged after thirty years.
Osanai-san glanced at me for a moment and nodded slightly, just enough for the tip of her chin to twitch. I suddenly said,
“Mr. Koumura, please let me see that frame!”
Kengo and Mr. Koumura both looked startled.
“What is it, Jougorou, all of a sudden?”
Kengo’s protest was ignored as I approached Mr. Koumura. He looked at the frame in his hand and said,
“It’s just a cheap one.”
He then handed it to me.
It was quite an old frame, and as Mr. Koumura said, it wasn’t particularly impressive. After the Prefectural Exhibition, Shima Taiga probably framed it himself. It might even be handmade by Shima Taiga; if so, the frame might have some value. However, my serious examination of an otherwise ordinary frame must have looked a bit comical to Kengo and the others. Kengo and Mr. Koumura’s attention was drawn to me.
And then suddenly,
“Ah.”
A voice came up. It was Osanai-san. What happened? I have created an opportunity to steal a glance at the two, but she raised her voice herself. Looking closer, Osanai-san was pointing at the bottom of the painting.
“There’s something written.”
“What?”
Kengo hurriedly leaned in to look at the painting, and Mr. Koumura bent down to bring his face closer to the painting. I followed the tip of Osanai-san’s finger from behind the two.
There were thin black letters that read, “Originate from The Square Fort in Antibes by Nicolas de Staël. I love him.”6 The letters were written right at the bottom of the painting — until just now, they had been hidden behind the frame.
“What!”
Kengo sighed.
“In the end, it was a study! Shima Taiga properly labeled the study so that it would be recognized as a copy and submitted it to the Prefectural Exhibition.”
Mr. Koumura adjusted his glasses, which had slipped down because he was looking down.
“But the Prefectural Exhibition should only accept original works…….”
“That’s a problem with the judges who overlooked it, teacher. Shima Taiga didn’t submit someone else’s work as his own. That’s great! Osanai, I can’t believe it! I never thought it would be true…… amazing!”
Kengo looked like he was about to jump for joy. He praised Osanai-san and bowed his head, and if Osanai-san hadn’t been a girl, he would have picked her up and thrown her in the air. On the other hand, Osanai-san’s confusion was pitiful to see.
“Um…… well, I just thought that it might not be visible through the plastic, and it was just a coincidence…… if you take it out of the frame, anyone would have noticed…….”
“The idea of taking it out of the frame didn’t even occur to me! You really helped me, I owe you one.”
“I didn’t do anything…… I’m just…….”
Osanai-san stepped back as if to escape from Kengo and naturally moved to hide behind me, like water flowing to a lower place. Kengo exclaimed, “That’s right!” and brought over a paper bag that was on a nearby desk.
“Let me give you a small token of gratitude. This is delicious.”
“Oh.”
Osanai-san’s voice brightened up.
“What is it?”
From behind me, Osanai-san jumped out and took the paper bag from Kengo. I hope she doesn’t get lured away by a bad person with candy or something. Kengo said with a rare, beaming smile.
“There’s a German bread shop nearby. They serve Berliner Pfannkuchen, which is basically fried bread. Don’t hesitate to take it!”
7
The winter days are short, and the way back home was already getting dark. The winter solstice had passed, so the days should be getting longer, but it didn’t feel like it at all.
On the way back, we walked side by side. We only walk together when there’s something going on. Basically, we don’t need to pretend to be a pair outside of school, but today, I had a few things I wanted to talk about.
The road we were taking was a narrow path lined with old houses on both sides, avoiding the usual bypass. The bypass had heavy traffic, making it difficult to hear each other’s voices over the sound of passing cars. Osanai-san was holding the paper bag that Kengo had given her, and she occasionally sniffed it or lifted it up to look underneath, as if she were wary of it being poisoned.
Since the road was narrow, there weren’t many cars passing by, and there were few pedestrians. I took the opportunity to speak.
“I never expected there would be such words written. It was unexpected.”
“…… I guess so.”
Osanai-san seemed to have given up on inspecting the fried bread and replied with a sigh.
“In the end, it turned out that I solved it.”
“I’m sorry. There was nothing I could do.”
“I was the one who said there were words written. It’s not your fault, Kobato-kun. But that aside.”
Osanai-san buried her face halfway into her scarf and looked at me with a resentful expression.
“I’ll make you pay for this.”
I can’t help it, but this debt seems to be getting bigger.
I clasped my hands behind my head and looked up at the winter sky.
“It should have gone smoothly…….”
The original plan was like this. Osanai-san would look at the painting, but she couldn’t think of anything at all, and we would just leave it to fate and call it a day. I intended to proceed according to the plan we made at the family restaurant.
This plan, if executed, would have left Kengo tormented by guilt for a long time. But in the end, everything should have gone well. Because Shima Taiga’s sculptural work <The Sight and the Outer, or fortune-cookie> is not a forgery.
The words clearly stating the original made Kengo understand that the painting was a study. However, that was a hasty conclusion. If he read the interview and looked at this year’s San Francisco Biennale’s Black Bear Award <Gaze and Shell>, he would understand.
That painting was a fortune cookie.
“Hey, Osanai-san. You looked at the painting, right?”
Osanai-san looked a bit angry, but she nodded clearly.
The reason I asked Mr. Koumura to show me the frame was to draw the attention of both him and Kengo. By approaching Mr. Koumura, I hid Osanai-san from his view. While I pretended to examine the frame, Osanai-san must have touched and examined the painting. She needed to touch it.
“Did you find anything?”
“I found something that Kobato-kun probably expected to find.”
“A cut.”
“Yes.”
That painting is a fortune cookie. What is visible is the outer cookie, and inside it is a message hidden.
The outer layer is a copy of de Staël. Shima Taiga put what he loves on the surface. Inside it is the subject of love, the innermost part of Shima Taiga himself. To put it simply, the canvas is double-layered, and there is another painting inside the first one. It expresses both what is on the surface and what lies deeper within in a single work. This is probably Shima Taiga’s “The Sight and the Outer,” a theme he has been pursuing.
The fortune cookie must be broken to take out the message.
That painting is an interactive and one-time work that reveals the second layer by tearing apart the first layer of de Staël. The reason de Staël remained unbroken for thirty years was either because no one understood Shima Taiga’s intention or because, even if they did understand, no one was willing to go along with that idea.
Some day, will someone come along who wants to tear apart de Staël and see the inner Shima Taiga? To be honest, I think that’s dubious. Probably forever, no one will tear apart the first layer. Because…… the innermost part of a person is something that doesn’t matter. No one would do that, risking the crime of property damage.
Anyway, if the intention of the work is to have someone tear apart the first layer, it wasn’t hard to imagine that there would be a cut to psychologically and physically encourage that.
“How was the cut made?”
“In the middle. I checked to see if it was there, but it was cut long enough not to miss it. About twenty centimeters, I guess.”
“Did you see the inside…… the cut? The inner painting?”
As I asked, Osanai-san suddenly looked up at the sky. Night was approaching, and the sky was turning a deep blue from the east. Shivering slightly, Osanai-san replied.
“Yes.”
“What was it like?”
“Right. …… Yes, I was a bit surprised. But looking back, it might have been surprisingly ordinary.”
It’s not clear.
“Don’t beat around the bush. What was drawn?”
“…… I don’t know. If you want to see it, Kobato-kun, go see it yourself. What I can tell you is that the painful truth is closer to us than the expression of the sculptural work. For example…….”
Osanai-san searched for words, tilted her head, glanced at the souvenir from Kengo, and said in a whisper that seemed to be carried away by the wind.
“Be careful of Mr. Koumura. He said he didn’t realize that Shima Taiga’s painting was a copy of de Staël. I think Kobato-kun also realized it, but it’s a lie. He can read French, but he doesn’t know where in France Antibes is, and he didn’t realize that Shima Taiga’s painting was de Staël’s painting of Antibes. That’s a lie.”
The moon was already out in the sky.
“He thought that Shima Taiga had committed forgery, so he kept it for thirty years. He didn’t know it was a sculptural work, but he kept it to shoot Shima from behind at the right moment. It’s very nice. But Doujima-kun, Kobato-kun, and I shattered that plan to pieces. I don’t think anything will happen because of that, but be careful. Well then, my house is over there. Goodbye.”
- A Japanese honorific suffix used to show respect, higher than “-san” but lower than “-sama.” Often used for people of higher status or those who have achieved something significant.
- The first “Western painter” in Japan who learned full-scale oil painting techniques and was active from the late Edo period to the middle of the Meiji era. His best-known painting is a salmon hung up to dry.
- “fortune-cookie” is written in English here.
- Hatena’s Rice Bowl(はてなの茶碗), a program(演目) of Kamigata Rakugo(上方落語).
- The original text of <The Sight and the Outer> is in Japanese, while the original text of <Gaze and Shell> is used in English/Katakana. The author used the word “視線” which means “sight” or “gaze” and “外殻” which means “outer shell” in Japanese.
- This is written in English.
What a pleasant surprise. I didn’t think I was able to read these uncollected stories so soon. Thank you so much for translating them.