At night, I shared the details of the situation with Osanai-san. After a few hours, she sent over a reply that was longer than any other message I’d seen from her.
“Hotel Sacher and Cafe Demel fought over the right to use the dessert’s name. As a result of the legal ruling, Hotel Sacher won the right to use the name ‘Original Sachertorte’. Today, Demel has many branches around the world, and you can even buy Demel’s Sachertorte here in Japan. As for Hotel Sacher, there’s only one of it in Vienna, as it has been for a long time.”1
I read the message over and over.
Osanai-san was not saying that Demel’s expansion on the global market made it the winner, or that Hotel Sacher which was labeled the original but had nothing outside of Vienna was the loser. She was probably saying that people have their own paths.
That applies to teachers, sculptors, everyone.
It was hot. I opened a window to let it some night wind into my room.
There would be a night festival at a nearby shrine on the next day. There would be yakisoba, baby castellas, and Tianjin sweet roasted chestnuts. The school had told us not to indulge in nights out, but perhaps I should go anyway, because to a petit bourgeois, “Rules are meant to be broken.”
After that, Osanai-san did not invite me to leave school with her. Her underground fight with the evil organization must have come to a close for now.
Summer break was coming soon.
If we were to meet at the night festival tomorrow, Osanai-san would definitely have a stick of fluffy cotton candy in her hand.
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