I knew where Osanai-san’s house was, which was how I’d noticed a while ago that we were taking a detour. That was probably to secure enough time to complete our conversation.
As we were crossing a canal with a sluice gate, Osanai-san suddenly stopped. Placed at the entrance to a private house was what looked to be a small sign. We moved forward to get a closer look, to find that “Tea and Cakes” was written on it. I couldn’t tell if that was the shop’s name or if it was a description of their products. The text continued with, “Chocolate confectionery available.”
The sharp gleam of a hunter appeared in the eyes of Osanai-san, who had just been enjoying a lighthearted chat after school. She held her breath and ran her eyes intently along the storefront, not wanting to miss out a single detail to judge if we should enter the store. From what I could see, it was inhabiting a traditional Western-style house which had been remodeled to hold a shop. The appeal of being able to have cake there was quite understated, so I couldn’t feel that the owner was so desperate that their life would be over if their store didn’t quite catch on with the general public. I got the impression that it was opened by someone who was drawn to the charm of a traditional house and put flavor on the backburner, but I could also see it as a spot opened up by a seasoned veteran who retreated from the front lines for whatever reason, serving up satisfying food to a small, select clientele.
Osanai-san murmured.
“June isn’t exactly the season for chocolate…”
Come to think of it, chocolate would be more fitting for winter. I thought that she would pass on it, but Osanai-san did not move from the storefront. Even though I already knew the answer, I asked, just in case.
“Have you ever been here?”
Osanai-san shook her head vigorously.
“No. I didn’t even know where we are.”
I certainly didn’t expect that we would be lost. In an offhand manner, I responded.
“So you might not be able to come here again, right?”
Osanai-san’s eyes flew wide open. My words must have struck a chord with her.
“Exactly, Kobato-kun. Every encounter in this world is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and should be treasured.”
She was definitely going into the store now.
“Should I go in too?”
“That’s for you to decide.”
She was absolutely right.
Well, I suppose it couldn’t hurt. Our conversation surrounding Shima Taiga’s objet seemed like it would go on for a while more, and trudging around the city during that time would be quite dull. Thus I decided to accompany Osanai-san on her exploration and enter the shop, as thanks for her listening to me talk.
“You’ve never heard of this place, right? The cakes might not be very good, then.”
“If that’s true, we can say, ‘That tasted bad’ together.”
Osanai-san went ahead of me and opened the sliding door.
Compared to its exterior, the shop’s interior looked more like one. There was a cash register, and a display case lined with cakes. Some tables were placed near a bay window, probably for the sake of dine-in customers. I couldn’t see any store clerks at first, but one immediately appeared. It was a middle-aged woman.
“Welcome. Are you eating in or taking away?”
Osanai-san answered.
“I would like to eat in, please.”
“Alright. Sit anywhere you like.”
We took a spot that was lit by the sun. Osanai-san went over to the display case to take a look. Strangely enough, I’d gone into stores like this with Osanai-san multiple times already, even though I didn’t particularly enjoy sweet food. Eventually, she trotted back to our table, as if she was alerting me to an emergency.
“Kobato-kun, they have sachertorte!”
“That’s some kind of chocolate cake, right?”
Osanai-san was solemn.
“Sachertorte is the empress of sweets.”
Oh, really?
“I’ll order the sachertorte. You choose whatever you want, Kobato-kun. You don’t need to order cake if you don’t want to.”
I laughed.
“Well, if we’re in the presence of a queen, then there is no luxury of choice, right?”
Before long, two small slices of chocolate cake were brought to our table, along with our respective beverages. Osanai-san squinted as if she found her surroundings to be too dazzling, but the rays of early summer sunlight streaming in was probably not the only reason.
On the other hand, I was shocked by how unexpectedly plain the sachertorte looked, especially when Osanai-san had called it the empress. It was a wedge cut from a whole cake, and was coated in dark chocolate all around. Its surface was smooth and glossy, but lacking in decoration. While wondering if it was actually deserving of the title Osanai-san had given it, I picked up my fork and put it on the cake’s surface. When I exerted some energy, a crack appeared on the coating, and the fork sank down with only some slight resistance. Its base was also made of chocolate. I cut one small piece and brought it to my mouth.
…How should I describe that taste?
I’d expected the flavor of chocolate to spread in my mouth, which was only natural, given the cake’s appearance. But actually, I was first hit by a surge of sweetness,which was followed by the aroma of cacao. If that were all, I would have thought that it wasn’t that much different from a regular bar of chocolate. However, they were clearly not the same. The sachertorte was sweet, fragrant, and had something hidden beneath the taste of chocolate. I carefully put another piece into my mouth.
It was sour. A hint of tartness was bringing together the chocolate coating and base into a single cake.
“There’s something spread in the cake.”
I muttered. Osanai-san stopped moving her fork and grinned.
“Amazing, you figured that out. In sachertorte, apricot jam is spread between the cake base and fondant1.”
So that tartness was from apricots, huh… Also, I now learned that the coating was called fondant.
Looking thoroughly satisfied, Osanai-san moved her fork.
“Delicious, so delicious.”
She was right, it was indeed delicious.
Osanai-san probably hadn’t intended to give me a lesson on sweets. As usual, she’d chosen one solely for her own enjoyment, but regardless of her intentions, I’d learned of a tasty dessert. Suddenly, I realized that she was sharing something precious with me. If so, it should be fine to say this to her, just this once.
“Thank you.”
Osanai-san looked bewildered.
“Eh? Erm, you’re welcome?”
Both of us had about half of our sachertorte left. Osanai-san put down her fork, as if reluctant to finish the cake in one go, then drank some of the hot milk she’d ordered. She closed her eyes to savor the aftertaste, before speaking.
“…Kobato-kun, you told me about how the objet was destroyed. I do think that is exactly what happened, but to me, it sounds like a story from a far-off country. After all, I’ve never seen the damaged objet.”
She then closed her eyes.
“So now, why don’t you tell me about the objet’s revival? How did it get restored before today’s speech, when it was damaged so badly yesterday after school? According to what you told me earlier, the ball seemed to be made of plaster. Did Shima Taiga-san fix it in one night?”
I wasn’t familiar with the physical properties of plaster. Perhaps it was an unexpectedly easy to use and popular material, such that it was possible to fill up that hole in one night. However, it was hard to believe that it was actually fixed overnight.
“At the start of his speech, Shima Taiga said that he only arrived in Japan this morning.”
“Ah, you’re right.”
“On top of that, the driftwood was not in the Art Preparation Room.”
Osanai-san frowned.
“What are you talking about?”
“Shima Taiga’s objet is comprised of a white platform, a white sphere, and a white piece of driftwood. But only the platform and sphere were displayed in the Art Preparation Room, while the piece of driftwood was being kept by Koumura-sensei. He said that it was because there were many narrow branches that could easily break.”
I hadn’t said anything at the time, but I’d wondered if that was allowed. Shima Taiga had sent his objet to the school because he wanted to show it to his juniors. On the other hand, the school placed the objet in a locked room, and only allowed students to view it under a teacher’s supervision. That was understandable, for security reasons. However, putting away the driftwood because it might break did not seem right.
Osanai-san’s eyes turned cold.
“The objet is a three-piece set, but he kept one part of it? Shima Taiga-san will be angry if he hears of it.”
“We have the right to be angry too. Shima Taiga wanted any student in our school to freely view the objet, but we could only see an incomplete version of it.”
After lifting her cup of milk to her mouth, Osanai-san looked at me.
“Was the person who decided to do that Koumura-sensei, or someone higher up? But I don’t see how that’s related to the objet’s revival.”
“I believe that the key point here is what the school thought about the objet and what they valued most.”
“What they valued most…?”
The reason for moving the driftwood to another location was probably not that the school wanted to humiliate Shima Taiga, or that they didn’t want to show modern art to students.
Osanai-san murmured.
“What the school valued most, huh… I suppose it was to return the objet safely. That was their top priority.”
“Exactly. In the unlikely event that an item in their care breaks, it becomes a matter of liability. They were already in a nerve-wracking situation, and with the threatening letter in the mix, they decided not to let the driftwood be accessible to the student population. If so, I wonder if it was alright for them not to do anything with the sphere as well.”
“If they even shifted the sphere away, only the platform would be left in the exhibit. That would definitely make Shima Taiga-san lose face.”
The concept of “losing face” never factored in my deductions. That was a difference in how Osanai-san and I viewed the world.
I nodded.
“They couldn’t only display the sphere. However, they definitely had to return the objet in a perfect state. I think there is a good way to handle this situation.”
It would be troubling for the actual objects to get damaged, yet they had to be displayed. This kind of dilemma was probably not all that uncommon. While poking at the chocolate fondant on her sachertorte with her fork, Osanai-san mused.
“So they have to balance exhibition with conservation of the objet…”
She continued, but didn’t seem very confident of herself.
“I think I know what you’re trying to say, Kobato-kun. But is there really something like that?”
“You were the one who said that returning the objet safely is the top priority. In other words, that must be done no matter what it takes.”
“The objet on display at the Art Preparation Room was a replica. That’s what you were trying to say, right?”
Exactly.
The objet that Shimai-san and I saw in the Art Preparation Room yesterday after school was a well-made replica. That would explain why the cracked sphere suddenly became scratchless in the next day. I could also understand why Koumura-sensei sighed in relief after noticing the damage on the sphere, as if saying that at least the driftwood had not been harmed. He could simply discard the broken replica, and move the genuine articles out for the speech.
“Koumura-sensei mentioned that the sphere’s surface is plaster, and that anyone can make it, although the quality would be another question. He was probably the one who made the replica.”
I could think of two opportunities for the objet to be switched with its replica.
One was after we moved the real objet to the Art Preparation Room. He could have switched it after school, or some other time when there was no one else around. However, that would mean that Aotagawa-kun had damaged the actual objet.
Another point was before that. It was possible that the objet had already been switched when we went over to the office as porters. There was a stronger case for this compared to the former.
I’d unwittingly assumed that we moved the objet on the day it was delivered to the school, but that wasn’t necessarily the case. It would be smarter to think that the objet had been delivered way before that, and was kept in Koumura-sensei’s house or an empty classroom for his reference as he constructed a replica. When that was complete, he called for us to help set up the exhibition.
Osanai-san tilted her head.
“…I wonder if they got Shima Taiga-san’s permission.”
I pointed at my plate.
“I bet the rest of my sachertorte that they didn’t.”
If the replica had been made with the original creator’s permission, the school could have openly notified everyone about that fact. When we got flustered seeing the damaged objet the day before, Koumura-sensei could have told us not to worry since it was just a replica. But both of those things could not be done, because they hadn’t gotten permission to make a replica.
Osanai-san shut her eyes, a sense of deep regret washing over her face.
“What a wonderful idea, but I have no choice but to bet on the same side. I also think they didn’t get permission.”
It was actually a method that made sure no one got hurt. By producing a replica, Shima Taiga’s original work was protected, the school managed to avoid being held liable for any damages, and students were not embroiled in any incidents. It was certainly a thorough approach, excluding the legal problems revolving copyright, and the slight demerit of taking away the students’ chance to come into contact with the genuine objet d’art.
With this, I’d unraveled the mystery behind the objet’s destruction and revival. After taking a deep breath, I put my fork into the sachertorte which was sweet, sweet to its very core, and slightly sour. The early summer sunlight was pleasant, and the shop was quiet. The store clerk had disappeared, and the two of us were facing each other, savoring the same cake. Osanai-san had at some point in time become absorbed in her sachertorte, and was not looking in my direction. Then again, I, too was simply basking in the afterglow of having cracked the case.
Still, I asked just one question of Osanai-san.
“By the way, why did you call sachertorte the empress of sweets?”
Her head jolted up, then tilted in a confused manner.
“Because sachertorte is a confection from Vienna… or Austria. Austria gives off the impression of an empress, don’t you think?”
I could think of only one person that fit the bill.
“So, is there an emperor of desserts?”
“The emperor… has abdicated.”
“I hope he still has his head.”
“He’s fine, but was swept away to the Island of Elba.”
That was a riddle. Osanai-san must be in a great mood to pose a riddle to me. She’d probably enjoyed this shop’s sachertorte very much. I accepted the challenge, and started thinking of the answer.
The emperor related to the Island of Elba was obvious. All I had to do was link it to the name of a dessert.
I replied.
“His Imperial Majesty’s name is Napoleon Pie2, right?”
Osanai-san looked surprised, apparently having not expected me to get the answer. Eventually, she grinned, put down her fork, and gave me a small round of applause. Wondering how to react to a rare compliment, I let out an easygoing smile.
“That’s basic knowledge, isn’t it?”
Osanai-san did not reply, but fondly moved the final crumb of sachertorte into her mouth.
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Editors (Tier 2): Dedavond, Pearl H Nettle
Assistants (Tier 1) : Rolando Sanchez, Lilliam, Yousef, Maria C
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