Page 7 of A Serving of Hope

“Oh, it’s nice,” said Nagare without lifting his gaze. “Famous for chestnuts. Lots of charming old buildings.”

“Can I take this one, Dad?” She tugged lightly at his sleeve. “I’m dying to see this farm of his.”

“Well, okay, but…are you sure you’ll manage on your own? Don’t you want me to come along?”

“I’m in the mood for a little solo trip.”

“This isn’t a holiday, you know. It’s work.”

“I know, I know. Oh, I can bring you back some chestnuts.”

“I’m beginning to regret this already.”

“I wonder if there are any hot springs nearby?” Koishi murmured. Watching her swipe away at a map on her tablet, Nagare let out a long sigh.

2

Now the rainy season really had set in. Almost every day passed in a blur of drizzle, and the skies above Kyoto were gray and forbidding. The patter of droplets on Kenichi’s umbrella was gentle enough, but large, glistening puddles lined the sidewalk that led past Higashi Honganji temple.

Picking his way between them, he walked east down Shomen-dori. This being his second visit, he made the journey from the station to the restaurant with ease. He closed his umbrella, removed his trench coat, and slid open the door.

“Welcome back,” Koishi greeted him cheerfully.

“Thanks for your message,” replied Kenichi, draping his coat over a chair. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”

Koishi began dabbing at the coat with a towel. “Really coming down today, isn’t it?”

“Oh, don’t trouble yourself over that cheap old thing.”

“You braved the weather, then?” asked Nagare, poking his head out from the kitchen.

Kenichi bowed slightly. “Thank you for looking into this for me.”

“It was Koishi who worked the case. Came back with the goods too.”

Nagare glanced at his daughter, who puffed her chest out slightly. “I’m pretty sure I’ve worked it out—but if not, I apologize in advance.”

“No need for that,” said Kenichi with a composed smile. “I’m just grateful for your efforts.”

“I take it you’ll have some rice with the soup?” asked Nagare. “And if it’s your high school days you’re remembering, I should probably make it an extra-large portion.”

“That’d be perfect,” said Kenichi, his smile widening.

Koishi set a brochure on the table. “Well, I visited the Yoshizawa farm.”

“Oh,” said Kenichi, glancing at the brochure. “They’ve…turned it into a tourist attraction?”

“Your mother did. I think she was hoping it would become one of Obuse’s sightseeing spots.”

“I had no idea,” murmured Kenichi, opening and flipping through the brochure.

“She gave it her best shot, but it doesn’t seem many tourists showed up. Instead, it’s turned into something of a hangout for elderly people from the neighborhood.”

Kenichi set the brochure down and smiled ruefully. “My mother really isn’t cut out for business.”

“Here she is,” said Koishi. She took the brochure and pointed to a photo of a woman smiling beneath an apricot tree. “Hanae Yoshizawa.”

“It’s really her…” Kenichi tilted his head, as if trying to reconcile the photo in front of him with the image in his memory.