Page 17 of A Serving of Hope

“Maybe I should take this one,” said Koishi.

“No way. An onigiri is high stakes, Koishi. I’ll go myself.”

“Oh, come on. You just want an excuse to drink some good sake.”

“Nonsense. If you come back empty-handed, we’ll have to start over. Listen, I’ll bring you home a nice bottle of sake—just stay put and mind the shop.”

“All right,” said Koishi, pouting slightly. “But you’d better not forget that sake.”

2

In autumn, a lot can change in two weeks. The Kyoto air wasn’t just chilly now, it carried a wintry sting. This time, though, Shiori had come prepared. She was wearing a thick jacket, and as she walked along Karasuma-dori she adjusted a beige scarf around her neck.

There were no brooding clouds this time either; the sky was an unbroken expanse of blue. The white spire of Kyoto Tower loomed proudly over the streets.

As she turned onto Shomen-dori and came to a halt in front of the Kamogawa Diner, Shiori felt a strange rush of nostalgia, even though this was only her second visit. Maybe it was because she was reminded of the house where she’d grown up: a two-story building whose gray mortared walls were veined with cracks. The cracks had been sealed with white filler, and as a child they had seemed to her the tentacles of some grotesque creature. She remembered rushing in without even daring to look at them.

Inside, Koishi greeted her with a bright smile.

“We’ve been looking forward to seeing you again,” said Nagare, dressed in his brown samue and a cap of the same color, which he removed in order to bow.

“I’ve been looking forward to it too.” Shiori made to remove her jacket, but Nagare held up a hand.

“Keep that on, please. I thought we could go on a little outing.” He nodded to Koishi, who produced a handwoven rattan basket. “There’s no Salmon Park in Kyoto, unfortunately, but there is a little garden just around the corner. It’s a modest place, but I’d like to take you there. Onigiri always taste better in the open air.”

Shiori felt herself relax. She’d found it hard to imagine eating the onigiri within the confines of the restaurant. Nagare’s suggestion made a lot more sense.

“It’s a place called Shoseien,” explained Koishi while Nagare was getting things ready. “Though the locals usually call it Kikokutei.”

“Right. And is it a…park?” Shiori was finding it hard to picture their destination.

“Sort of. It’s actually part of Higashi Honganji, even if it’s not on the same plot of land. The temple’s garden, if you like.”

“Oh, that’s the big temple I passed on my way here, right? It looked enormous.”

“The garden’s a few minutes’ walk from here. I drop by sometimes when I need to clear my head. There’s something relaxing about being able to see so much sky.”

“Right,” said Nagare, having finished his preparations. “Off we go!”

He led them east down Shomen-dori.

“See that gate?” said Koishi, pointing down the street. “That’s the entrance.”

“You weren’t joking when you said it was close.”

“Now, this is a temple,” said Nagare as they reached the gate, “so it’s not like people are allowed to picnic on the benches. But you should be okay eating a rice ball by the pond.”

Shiori nodded, still trying to get her head around the idea that the garden was actually temple property.

At the entrance, Nagare paid for all three of them, motioning for Koishi and Shiori to follow him inside. Shiori noticed how the sign referred to a “viewing fee” rather than an “admission fee.”

The garden was bigger than she’d expected, with various structures scattered among the neatly tended trees. Nagare led them to a pond.

“It’s not quite the fountain in Salmon Park, but if you sit here and gaze at the water while you eat, it should at least set the mood.”

The pond was small enough to take in at one glance but not so large as to be overwhelming. Kyoto Tower was reflected in its depths. Nagare had clearly scouted this location in advance. He strode over to a flat stone that looked perfect for sitting on.

“Maybe not the most comfortable seat in the world, but it should do. And I brought this.” He produced a small indigo cushion and set it on the smooth dark stone.