A SHOPPING SHE WILL GO TO A CERTAIN POTTER'S SHOP
Date: Sunday, February 5, 2060
Time: Morning
Place: Kakunoshin Ni'itsu's Pottery Shop, located in a thriving, working-class neighborhood
Takagi Tokio recently moved to New Meiji to take a job at the DOJ as a prosecutor. The action here occurs before the incident at the Sunshine Cafe in the story, A Journey of a Thousand Miles.
TOKIO
She looked down at the numbers on the paper in her hand, and then up at the address painted above the door way. Nope. They matched, but this was no pottery shop, not with all those antique kimono hanging in the display window . She gave a sigh. The place shouldn't be that hard to find. Her secretary said it would be easy. Famous last words.
The assistant prosecuting attorney had recently moved to New Meiji from Yokohama, and during the move –no surprise here- the movers had dropped a box on the concrete sidewalk outside her apartment building, turning the contents of said box into dust and shards. Thankfully, they weren't her most favorite pieces of stoneware, but they were things she'd rather have whole than broken.
After lamenting her loss over coffee with her secretary on the first day at her new job, the woman had given Tokio a knowing look, then revealed to her that New Meiji just happened to be the home of one of Japan's most renowned potters, Kakunoshin Ni'itsu. Her secretary promptly reached into her desk for a pen and scratched an address on her notepad, tearing off the paper and handing it to her new boss. Tokio was determined to find the place as soon as she had her first day off.
She scrunched her eyes and took another look at the chicken scratch disguising itself as writing . She slowly realized that what she thought was a '4' was actually a '9'. No wonder she was having trouble finding the place. Now that she'd figured that one out, the shop she was looking for had to be only two doors down, and across the street to boot. Sheesh. Turning around to face the street, she looked both ways, before darting to the other side. Good thing the traffic was light this morning.
It was also a good thing that this was the golden age of voice recognition word processing. Tokio's secretary, although pleasant, polite, and efficient, had handwriting that was nearly unreadable. Two hundred years ago Tokio would have been in big trouble at the office. Did they even have mechanical typewriters back then?
She paused for a moment. Now where did that thought come from? Two hundred years ago would have been 1860, pre Meiji even. She didn't know what possessed her to think about that era. Shaking off the question that her mind imposed, she continued searching for her destination.
Scanning the addresses above the doors at each of the next three shops, she finally met with success. There it was; the one she was looking for, 3209. She could feel the excitement of anticipation rising in her chest. She was really looking forward to this. Slowly, she reached for the door, opening it and taking her first step inside.
Scanning the contents of the shop, she couldn't help but reverently utter in a low voice, "This place is amazing….."
HIKO
Hiko ended the call and wiped his muddy phone on his pants before he set it on the bench in front of his wheel. So. There had been a break-in at the gallery that was currently hosting his work. Not only had a significant chunk of the artwork in the gallery been destroyed, including most of his pieces, but all the money had been stolen as well. No more pieces. No commission. Damn.
He gave the bowl he'd been working on a considering look. "Looks like you're going to be the start a new series," he muttered to it quietly. The bowl stared innocently back. "Tch." With that, Hiko dipped his hands in the water bucket next to his wheel, and got back to work on the bowl.
The shop wasn't big enough to accommodate private studio space, so instead Hiko worked in the public studio where he also taught. He had arranged several wheels around a community work bench, with his wheel at the head. The teaching space was set back, leaving room for a small, tightly packed gallery at the front by the door. Large windows let in natural light from the street. From this position, it was easy to keep an eye on who came and went.
So when the shop bell tinkled softly in the quiet, Hiko looked up, surprised to see someone coming in so early. He stopped his wheel, and wiped his hands on the towel draped over his knee, smirking as he heard the young lady's quiet words.
"Thank you. It is, isn't it?"
TOKIO
"Quite," Tokio responded before she saw the speaker, a good looking man who was sitting behind a throwing wheel. "Is all of this your work?"
Glancing around, she noticed that this wasn't just a shop that sold pottery. It appeared to be a teaching studio, also, because there were several other wheels clustered where the man was working.
"Do you have any raku pieces? I'm looking for a several styles of chawan. I need one shallow bowl, one deep bowl, and one each for thin and thick brews. I also need some plates that would be appropriate for serving kaiseki," because the movers broke the perfectly good ones that I had, she added to herself.
(A/N: A chawan is a tea bowl. Shallow bowls, which allow the tea to cool rapidly, are used in the summer, while deep bowls are used in winter. Kaiseki or cha-kaiseki is a meal served in the context of a formal tea function. In cha-kaiseki, only fresh seasonal ingredients are used, prepared in ways that aim to enhance their flavor. Great care is taken in selecting ingredients and types of food, and the finished dishes are carefully presented on serving ware that is chosen to enhance the appearance and seasonal theme of the meal. This information is from wiki/Japanese_tea_ceremony)
HIKO
"Mm. It is." Hiko turned off his wheel and ambled over to the sink in the corner to give his hands a better cleaning than the towel afforded. The young lady had quite the shopping list. He almost felt as though he was taking an order at that ridiculous Bakamatsu-themed burger joint. Hiko snorted quietly as he dried his hands and turned to meet the woman properly.
As he drew closer, he got a better look at her, noting she was quite attractive. And she obviously knew how to serve tea properly. Even better. He pointed to a shallow bowl midway up on the bank of shelves. "Unfortunately, this is the only raku piece remaining at the moment." He'd used the last of his raku glaze on that series, which, barring this last piece, had all sold. Then, his supplier of raw materials had tried to sell him inferior ingredients for raku glaze. Ingredients that would have made anyone who used the glazed pieces quite ill. "I am currently in between suppliers for the ingredients needed for a decent raku glaze."
"However," he said turning his gaze from the bowl to Tokio, "I do take commissions. Otherwise, this or...these," he pointed first to a cluster of wood-fired bowls next to the raku piece, and then to several simply glazed wood-fired plates on a lower shelf, "might be to your liking."
"They came out of a wood firing several other ceramic artists and I organized a few months ago," he said fondly. That had a been... He had felt at home, visiting Minoato-san's house in the mountains. Even more so when he saw the traditional kiln Minato-san had built. The sense of familiarity had been overwhelming. When it had been his turn to man the kiln, sitting in front of it, sake in hand, had almost felt like he'd been there before, even if it was his first visit to his acquaintance's home.
TOKIO
Tokio was pleased that everything on display was created by the potter, and not one of his apprentices or students, which the grouping of wheels seemed to indicate he had.
She was a little disappointed that he only had one piece of raku in stock, but the fact that there were items that were wood fired sparked her interest, making up somewhat for the lack of raku. Those that were wood fired would be very unique, one of a kind. Firing with wood was not like firing a gas kiln where the temperature could be kept even, or raised or lowered with relative ease. Firing with wood took a lot of skill. The results also depended on the style of kiln, too. In some, kiln ash from firing added nuances to the finished piece.
Although he was an imposing height, Tokio wasn't intimidated by the potter. Being a good looking man, he almost caused her heart to flutter slightly, or it would have, if she hadn't convinced herself that she would lead a single life. It was just too dangerous for her to be close to another person, drawing a target on them due to associating with her.
The raku bowl was just what she was looking for. It was shallow and would do nicely for the upcoming summer months. It was even nicer than the one that the movers broke. "I'll take the raku chawan."
She then moved closer to the shelf, peering intently at the wood fired bowls. "Do you mind if I pick up those, or would you like to take them off the shelf for me." She paused a minute before she spoke again.
"Did you use an anagama kiln, or a noborigama?"
HIKO
Hiko stood quietly, letting the young woman have a little privacy as she looked over the pieces. He watched pedestrians pass by in front of his shop; a kid pedaled past on a bike covered in stickers and duct tape. He was getting an odd sense from this woman. Not hostility, not fear, but something more akin to a door firmly shut. It made him wonder. However, her business was none of his business, aside from whether she decided to buy anything. At least, that's what he kept telling himself.
Turning his attention from the window, Hiko nodded. Those raku pieces had come out very well, but he wondered what she would do with just one tea bowl. "If your heart is set on having raku, it would be my pleasure to make a set to match that tea bowl for you. They won't be exactly the same, mind, but I can certainly let you know when my glaze materials arrive, and we could discuss what you're looking for then." Plus it would bring her back to his shop, and Hiko had no quarrel with repeat customers. And if they happened to be mysterious, attractive women who knew their tea ceremony, all the better.
Hiko watched as she peered at the wood fired pieces, and nodded when she asked about picking them up, his respect increasing. "It's alright. Go ahead and pick them up. I do, however, appreciate that you asked." Too many people had a tendency to pick pieces up with no regard for their fragility or how many hours went into making them. He wondered, not for the first time, about this woman's knowledge and her obvious respect for the pieces. Was she a student? Or just very well-versed? Hard times hadn't sucked all the culture from the city, but there were times when Hiko felt there was nothing left but brutality and destruction. To see a person who still cared about tradition and the arts, especially after the news he'd recieved that morning, was heartening.
"Mm. It was an anagama kiln." Hiko regarded his customer a moment. "You seem to know a great deal about pottery." ...For an average customer wandering in off the street. He was getting the distinct feeling she wasn't terribly average. Especially given that tightly-closed door. "Have you studied ceramics?"
TOKIO
"Oh? You would make a set to order for me?" Now that was an idea. To have tea bowls for all the seasons and types of tea, that actually matched, was very appealing. Tokio thought for a moment. "Thank you for your kind offer," she said with a duck of her head, "I think I would like to do that, to have you make me a set of raku bowls." It was exciting to have the prospect of consulting with him about the raku pieces that she wanted to include in her collection.
As she took a few -of what she hoped were secretive glances at the man- she couldn't help but sigh. He was truly easy on the eyes. She wouldn't mind keeping him company at some social event, such as the opening of a new gallery show. Regardless of her vow to not get involved with anyone, she did on occasion go out on casual dates, taking care to keep the evening on a purely platonic basis, lest the man get the wrong idea.
"Too many people don't respect the time, effort and talent that go into this type of art," she replied when he gave her permission to handle the wood-fired pieces. No one would –or at least they shouldn't- pick up something on display in an art museum or gallery. In the attorney's mind there was no difference between this shop filled with hand created original pieces, and those on display at one of New Meiji's remaining museums.
She gently lifted one of the plates, tilting it so she could see the surface, amazed at the pattern the firing had produced. "Oh, an anagama kiln," Tokio said almost reverently. She knew that loading that type of kiln was the most difficult part of the firing, because the potter had to imagine the path the flames would take. The placement of pieces within the kiln distinctly affected the appearance of the piece. It was the wood ash settling on the pottery during firing, and the interaction between the ash, flame and the minerals in the clay that formed the natural ash glaze. The pottery in her hand was one of a kind, never to be exactly reproduced again. "The results of this firing are breath taking," she couldn't help saying. "In addition to the raku you will make for me, I will also take two of these plates and two of these bowls."
His question about whether she studied ceramics broke her concentration. She was in a quandary as to which bowls and which plates to choose. They were all so wonderful.
"When I was younger my mother used to practice the art. In her mind she had no talent, but I always thought her work was quite nice. I did get my hands in the clay, occasionally. I found it very relaxing. But regretfully, these days I don't seem to have the time for it." Too much going on. If the man only knew. Being a resident of New Meiji, he probably did.
HIKO
"Of course. I'd be delighted." A significant portion of his business came from commissions; Hiko had no problems whatsoever making pieces for this woman. He couldn't say that for many of his clients, who wanted something pretty but whose lack of understanding led to unreasonable timetables and impossible demands. Or worse, disappointment when the natural unpredictability of a firing created unique features, and the client was really looking for manufactured uniformity. No, Hiko had a feeling this project would be more of a creative collaboration.
He nodded as she spoke, watching as she delicately inspected the pieces. "It is also a lack of understanding. The few times I've brought my pieces to a show, rather than a gallery, some people didn't even recognize the clay for what it was. Unfortunately, it wasn't because my talents had transformed it so completely. They simply didn't know."
Hiko looked pleased at the compliment, agreeing completely. Those pieces had come out particularly well. As she looked at the pieces, debating, he said, "Take your time choosing." For one thing, he wanted her to pick out exactly what she wanted, but for another, he was content to have her in his shop. She was by far one of the most interesting strangers to wander into his studio, and he enjoyed her conversation. If she happened to be attractive as well, that certainly wasn't a detriment.
"Mm." Hiko's curiosity was piqued, but he also noted the use of past tense. "So you have a family history. Did your mother ever show her work?" It was a slim chance, but worth asking. However, the fact that this woman had thrown as well was most intriguing. Between her mother and personal experience, the level of respect and knowledge she held made sense.
Half-jokingly he asked, "Since you've had experience, are you sure you don't want to throw your own tea bowls, then?" He grinned and gestured to the wheels behind them.
TOKIO
She nodded in agreement to what he said, "Yes, so many times it is just a lack of understanding that causes a person to fail to appreciate something of value or simple beauty, created by great skill and vision." It might sound overly sentimental to him, but it was what the young attorney truly believed, and in her mind it also applied to the failure to appreciate that special person in your life until they were gone forever.
Tokio continued inspecting the wood-fired pieces, picking up one at a time, examining them carefully, tilting them as she did before so the light would hit them in the best way to reveal the subtle patterns made by the firing. Her finger tips skimmed the surface of each piece as though she were a blind woman from another era reading Braille. The surface of the piece always had its own story to tell. The attorney continued speaking as she first set one plate, then one bowl to the side.
"No, she never showed her pieces to anyone outside of family and friends. For her it was a labor of love." Tokio stopped, not sure if she should voice her opinion. "But I always thought that her pieces were worthy of any gallery, but then, my opinion was that of a daughter looking at her mother's work."
The man had shown an interest in her mother's pottery, so Tokio felt it was worth it to continue the pleasant conversation. Perhaps she and this potter could one day be friends. He was going to consult with her on what she wanted in the way of raku. That surprised her, because most artists wouldn't think of doing that, preferring to keep creative control of all aspects of their work. Either his sales were slow, or he realized that she genuinely admired his work.
"My mother's hands are too arthritic to do it now. She tries sometimes, but the pain is too great. She's only able to work for a short while at a time. She is reluctant to try some of the new drugs that might help her, because of the possible side affects. My father wanted to tear down her kiln, but she wouldn't allow it. Having it there, seeing it, seems to give her hope that someday her hands may cooperate; that, and she thinks that I will settle down in the family home, and use it myself." Tokio knew that unless things changed drastically in New Meiji, there was no chance in hell that she would ever be able to settle down.
She looked up at him when she heard his surprising offer. Throw her own tea bowls; now that was an idea, if only she had the time. It would be fun, but she hadn't moved to New Meiji to have fun. She'd moved here to help her brother root out the corruption that was rotting the New Meiji branch of the DOJ from the inside out.
"Oh, my," she gasped lightly. "Thank you so much for your offer, but …well, I would have to see how I could fit it in with my work schedule." She couldn't tell him that although she kept regular office hours, she needed to be on call for emergencies, but thankfully, none of those had happened yet. In fact her first week working in New Meiji had been relatively quiet. "Would you mind if I let you know when we have our consultation session after you receive your new glazes?"
Tokio set aside another bowl and plate, very pleased with the ones she had chosen. It must have been karma to come into this particular shop today before these items were sold to someone else.
HIKO
Hiko's gaze sharpened as she spoke about appreciation, feeling the weight of that statement. It was true in many ways, and he was beginning to think they both were familiar with its truths.
Giving up any pretense of privacy, Hiko watched as his customer inspected the pieces with a practiced eye and great delicacy. He listened quietly as she discussed her mother's work, a little disappointed that she never showed anywhere. It was a small chance, but he did know other potters; it was good to keep connections open. If he had heard of her, it would have been a connection to this woman. He nodded, with a ghost of a smile at her pride in her mother's work.
Hiko gaze moved between the woman's face and her hands as she handled the wood fired pieces and set what he assumed were her choices aside. "Good for her." He was strangely relieved this woman's family was still living. Too many people had lost so much over the years. "A kiln is too valuable to tear down."
And there was the closed door again. Even as she mentioned settling down, it was obvious she had no intention of doing so. What was it? If she hadn't already lost, was it fear of loss? Despair over their current era? It was difficult not to despair. Hiko had seen some of the worst of it. On his darkest days, when no pot was willing to come from his hands and only long hours of kata with Wado Ichimonji eased his heart, he despaired. Kata helped, though. The white-sheathed sword grounded him, gave him a sense of steadiness when it felt like the world was wavering.
Her gasp shook him out of his dour ruminations; he met her eyes as she looked up at him. He grinned, then, amused that she took his offer quite literally. Well, he had only been half-joking. Which meant he'd been half-serious, and it pleased him that she was even considering the offer.
"Think on it. If nothing else, I think you'd be most welcome to come in and just practice. Clay is good stress relief." He reached across the small space and plucked two business cards from the little clay card-holder and snagged a pen from the cupful of pens that sat on the low table by the window. He handed them both to the young woman, along with the pen, saying, "This has my name and contact information. The open studio hours are also listed here." He pointed to the hours on the card, still wearing an amused grin. No harm in encouraging creativity. "On the back of the other one, would you mind writing your name and how best to reach you? I'll let you know when the raku glazes are ready." He paused, thinking a moment. "It'll be a couple weeks before the materials arrive, but once they're here, it won't take long to make the glaze."
Of course she could read the card, but if they were going to have a temporary business partnership…he bowed and said, "Kakunoshin Ni'itsu. It's a pleasure to meet you, ah…"
TOKIO
"Good for her. A kiln is too valuable to tear down."
"Yes, it is," the attorney replied. "My father knows that, but to his way of thinking, my mother having the false hope of throwing again someday, is worse than forcing her to put her pottery making days behind her permanently." To Tokio's way of thinking, this was just cruel, plain and simple. So what if her mother was never able to work clay again? Seeing that kiln in the backyard was better for her outlook on life than trying to accept the fact that her pottery making days were over forever.
Tokio wasn't sure whether to continue, but the man didn't seem to pose a threat of any sort, not that a Tokio would be able to tell for sure if he did, since a person's looks and demeanor could be deceiving.
"What my father, although well intentioned, does not realize is that one person cannot make a choice for another. Each person needs to follow their own path. But my father is from the old school where a husband makes the major decisions for his wife, where the husband decides whether or not something will make his wife happy."
Takagi Kojuurou, Tokio's father, an elected official in Aizu, well known for his stand against government corruption, loved his wife very much. He just didn't think that women knew what they really needed to make their lives happy and fulfilled. In Kojuurou's opinion every female needed a good husband to usher her in the right direction.
At least he no longer badgered Tokio about getting married. He knew what she and her brother, Morinosuke, did for the Department of Justice. He knew that the families of those who tried to root out bad elements were often targets, as was his family when Tokio was only 12. Although he thought his oldest daughter should be married, he rather she stay single, than have her grieve over the deaths of a husband and children because of a mob hit in retribution to what she did at work.
"Of course, I will think about your generous offer," she responded, her voice showing a bit of excitement. His suggestion that she at least come in to get her hands in the clay, even if she didn't want to throw her own raku, was too good to be true.
"I would love to at least come in and practice, but as I said, things may get…very busy for me at work. I just moved here from Yokohama and only started a new job last week," she added, not thinking that the information she was disclosing was of any consequence.
The prosecutor took the cards he offered, slipping one in her purse, writing a phone number on the back of the other before giving it back to him. "This is my private office number. If I do not answer, please leave a message. No one, not even my secretary, has access to this number."
Not that Tokio really needed to give him her private office number; the number to Oharu's desk would have been sufficient. But Tokio didn't want to chance starting any office rumors. She could just imagine her secretary's raised eyebrows if she were to answer a non-business call from a man with a voice like the potter's. If his looks didn't make a woman swoon –and believe me they do, Tokio thought to herself- then certainly the sound of that voice of his would drive any woman to distraction in a very good way.
"Kakunoshin Ni'itsu. It's a pleasure to meet you, ah…"
Tokio bowed in return, then straightened up and extended her hand in a western-style greeting, "Pleased to meet you, Kakunsin-san. I'm Takagi Tokio."
HIKO
The young woman hesitated, and Hiko kept his expression open, barely tilting his head in a nod. She continued, and he was glad of it.
Hiko's eyebrows drew together in a light frown as she spoke of her father's way of dealing with his family. Granted, Hiko himself had been accused, more than once, of knowing what was best for everyone, but even he knew better than to try that on a woman. Even if he did know best.
"Mm. Ideas change with each generation. But it's a hard thing to do, sometimes, letting the person you love direct their own life." Trusting them enough to let go of the ties between you, and hope they followed a good path. Even when your definition of good differed from theirs. That line of thought worked with children, too. And friends. "Although," he continued with a wry grin, "a husband should know better than to try to direct his wife."
Hiko nodded, deciding not to push the issue of coming in. She would or she wouldn't. He could tell, though, that she was considering it. That was good. Moving and a new job were stressful; the clay might help. Also if she did come in on open studio hours, she'd be able to meet some of his students. A few of them were worth getting to know.
"I suppose I should welcome you, then." He paused, weighing his words, not knowing what she did for a living, how much she already knew, and not wanting to make her too nervous, he added, "Be mindful. This city… There are elements that deserve our caution." She probably was already well aware, but reinforcement never hurt.
He took the card from her as she told him how to reach her. A private number? What exactly did she do? He was starting to get the feeling his warning was most likely utterly redundant. And useless. Either that, or whatever she did for a living, she kept her personal life very, very separate. "Alright."
Takagi Tokio.
Hiko glanced down at her hand, a little surprised by the western-style greeting. He took her hand in his calloused one and gave it a firm shake.
"Well, Takagi-san, did you decide on any of the wood fired pieces, or will you just take the raku?"
TOKIO
The man had a great perspective on life; he was right. Each generation did have its own ideas, and letting a person direct their own life was often a hard thing to do.
The prosecutor nodded, agreeing with the potter's words, and adding, "I think it is most difficult for parents. Most only want what is the best for their children, or what they think is best for them. Often the children don't agree, much to the distress of their parents, causing friction in the family."
That was the way it had been in the Takagi household. It was bad enough that Morinosuke went to law school, but when Tokio expressed a desire to follow his lead, her father had hit the roof. Being an elected official, one of the few honest ones, he'd not only had his life threatened –he didn't care about that- but also the lives of his wife and children. That was something he wanted to spare his children, because he knew that honest lawyers, especially those working for the government, and their families would always be targeted by the forces that made the current era tick. It had taken a great deal of convincing to have her father not actively oppose her choice. He never liked it, but eventually he didn't try to stand in her way.
"Although, a husband should know better than to try to direct his wife."
"Those, Kakunoshin-san," Tokio replied with a light laugh and twinkle in her eye, "are very wise words." She wondered if the man was married. To have that sort of wisdom he either had to have been married; or had a long term relationship at some point, or had a wonderful mother who pounded that sort of wisdom into him, so he would be well equipped to survive his serious encounters of the female kind reasonably unscathed.
She didn't see how he could manage to escape marriage, or a long term relationship. The man had a charisma about him. He oozed strength, and mystery. He was very attractive in the masculine, rugged way that so often made a woman look more than twice. Not only that, he was a superb craftsman. Tokio thought that women must swarm around him like bees attracted to a hive of honey. She would definitely be interested in pursuing the man, if he was available, and if she hadn't made up her mind to only allow platonic relationships in her life.
She acknowledged his warning about life in New Meiji. It was a courtesy for him to caution her, and she thanked him, letting him know that she would try to be careful. Her brother Morinosuke, had told her the same thing, encouraging her to get some new body armor and to wear her side arm at all times. She did intend to do that, to get that new armor. She just hadn't had a chance. As for her side arm, she'd forgotten to put it in her handbag today. She didn't think that she would encounter any trouble on a Sunday in this neighborhood.
He seemed to hesitate a bit before taking her hand. Many Japanese still weren't comfortable with this foreign custom. When his hand finally took hers she was struck by his warm, firm, confidant grasp. Tokio was embarrassed about where her mind was going, since executing a western-style greeting had never elicited any sort of response from her, ever.
She did notice the potter's hands were callused. Many things could cause that. Why did the image of a katana come to her mind? Her father practiced kenjitsu; Kakunoshin's hands reminded her of her father's. When she was a child, he held her little hand many times on the walks they often took. She was like a little kitten, wanting to stop here, or go there to investigate anything interesting that caught her eye. The only way Kojuurou could keep her from running off was to hang onto her hand. Tokio felt a warm glow at the memory of those strong, sword callused hands that held hers so protectively so many years ago.
"Did you decide on any of the wood fired pieces, or will you just take the raku?"
"Oh, no, I would be a fool to pass up these wood fired pieces, " she told him indicating the two plates and two bowls that she had set aside, "they are beautiful, and there will never be any quite like them again."
HIKO
"I think it is most difficult for parents…"
Hiko nodded, thinking of a certain red-haired baka deshi who definitely tried his patience. Friction in the family, indeed. And sometimes, the child just left, thinking that was best for the parent. A painful role reversal and completely unnecessary. He never had to leave.
She had a very nice laugh. Her agreement with is comment brought him back to the present, and he smiled, amused by her amusement. Hiko had no way of knowing that Tokio was contemplating his marital status, as far as he was concerned, was very much a non-status. Some complications in life just needed to be left alone. There had been a long-term relationship, once, after Kenshin left. But that was something to be kept close, secure, and rarely examined, like the remains of an heirloom quilt, too precious to throw away, and too fragile to bring out into the light.
Now, however, Hiko was content with his present lifestyle, and honestly couldn't see having anything long-term again. But, if he was considering it, he had a feeling this woman would be worth pursuing. Actually, he would consider it, if it weren't for that closed-off sense he'd gotten from her right from the start. It was a shame. She was an intelligent one, and attractive. What Hiko found most compelling was her strength. It wasn't anything outward that gave it away, just a sense Hiko got from speaking with her. He knew, beyond a shadow of doubt, that she was strong. That was probably what made her so attractive, he mused. That, and while he was unused to western-style greetings, she had a great handshake, with those delicate, strong hands.
He took note of the pieces she indicated, a pleased smirk finding its way onto his face at her compliments. "Yes, they are definitely one of a kind." No two pieces of his were exactly alike, even when it came to matching sets. He held it as a point of pride.
"I'll get these wrapped." Carefully gathering the pieces, he took them over to a decently sized side-table tucked against the studio's wall. Underneath the table were two milk crates, one filled with paper grocery bags, and the other stacked neatly with newspapers. "Feel free to come in," he said as he pulled out a bag, a wad of paper, and began to wrap the pieces.
These were actually some of his favorites. She had a good eye. If she ever did make a habit of coming to the studio, he might be able to convince her to help him with choices for gallery shows from time to time. He'd bet money she'd pick some real winners. He suspected she enjoyed galleries, given the way she'd been perusing the pieces in his small space. That, too, was a thought to consider.
It was a rare day when Hiko contemplated friendship with another. There were people he dealt with because he had to. But, occasionally, he met someone who he felt was truly worth knowing. For the first time in a long time, he was looking forward to having a client return. His instincts told him this woman would be a person to be trusted, and held the potential for friendship.
"You chose well, Takagi-san," he said as he wrapped the raku piece and placed it in the bag.
TOKIO
Tokio smiled brightly at the compliment. "Thank you, Kakunoshin-san, I guess I just know what I like when I see it." She wasn't just talking about the pottery he was wrapping, either. She sighed to herself, wishing again, that she had not resigned herself to a life alone. Having a special someone even for a while would be wonderful, but it wasn't something she could do. She would never be able to live with herself, if someone she cared about died because of what she did for a living.
The prosecutor needed to stay focused. She didn't need any complications in her life right now, and relationships definitely qualified as that. There were criminals in the DOJ that needed to be ferreted out and held accountable for their treason. She had promised her brother after insisting, then begging him to let her be the one he sent to investigate the New Meiji branch of the DOJ. Perhaps when this whole mess was over, she would feel safe enough to follow that dream she had.
She was reluctant to leave. It had been such a long time since her last liaison with a man, and that had only been platonic, as all her encounters were, but she missed the companionship, regardless. Men could be such delightful creatures when they were being reasonable or when they were trying to get in a woman's good graces. The prosecutor had girlfriends, but being out with a man, even one you weren't involved with romantically, was different. Men brought a whole new perspective to things. Their minds worked differently from a woman's. It was the way they looked at a problem and the viable solutions. Tokio loved the challenge of a good discussion, and she hadn't met a man yet who had disappointed her.
Tokio was sure she was born to be a married woman, but she knew that circumstances would not allow that to happen, at least not yet. Too many DOJ employees, especially the ones who tried to end the rampant corruption, wound up sacrificing their lives. There was no way the young prosecutor would leave motherless children and a grieving husband left to raise his family alone.
She probably shouldn't ask such an idiotic question, but she felt like lingering here, around this very interesting potter. Continuing a conversation was a good excuse to hang around a little longer. She watched him as he expertly wrapped her items, securing them for a safe trip home, as long as she didn't accidently drop them on the concrete sidewalk she reminded herself.
"Do you ever do gallery shows?"
HIKO
Hiko snorted softly. "I'm sure you do."
Takagi-san was delightfully self-effacing. Simply likes what she sees? Hmph. The woman had a very practiced eye, whether she wanted to admit it or not. He suspected it was partly from observing her mother's work, partly from her own practice, and certainly due to her own creativity. Definitely a creative one, this woman.
He decided that next time they met up, if her schedule permitted, he might just "happen" to have some extra clay around. Just for fun. Whatever job she held, Hiko had the sense it was…intense. The growing determination to force this near-total stranger into some creative downtime was getting hard to ignore.
"Do you ever do gallery shows?"
Gallery shows. Hiko paused in his wrapping, thinking of the news he'd received that morning. He'd be doing even more, now, to catch up. "Mm. I do."
He reached for another section of paper and began to wrap the last piece. "In fact, I'll be making a few inquiries very soon." He had some connections with a few different gallery owners; he'd start with them to see about available space. And heightened security, for everyone's benefit. He wasn't the only one who'd lost out on the robbery.
Nestling the last piece gently in the bag, Hiko became aware of something he hadn't noticed while he was preoccupied with wrapping. There was a decided reluctance coming from Takagi-san. He fought the impulse to grin, and schooled his features. Seemed someone was enjoying the conversation as much as he was. He wasn't exactly ready to settle up the bill and send her on her merry way, either.
She really did have a good eye. She was also intelligent, and clearly unafraid to speak her mind. "You know," he said speculatively, as an idea began to form, "you have an excellent eye." He watched her carefully as he continued, gauging her reaction. "I would greatly appreciate a second opinion when it comes time to choose pieces to show at a gallery. It never fails that the pieces I favor most are passed over, and the ones I never dreamed would sell, well, sell."
"Of course, today you picked some of my favorites, so it may do no good to have a second opinion," he teased with a grin.
If she agreed, it would give him a reason to invite her to an opening. She would be able to see the fruits of her labor, and he'd have a chance to get to know her better. The closed door gave him pause, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Takagi-san would make an excellent ally. No, he was thinking like a soldier. A friend. He knew in his gut that Takagi-san had the potential to become a highly valued friend. He had every intention of tending that particular garden.
TOKIO
Tokio was quite pleased that her question yielded results. It meant that she could continue her conversation with this very interesting man.
The attorney smiled shyly and blushed lightly at his compliment about her ability to judge pottery. No one had ever said anything like that to her in regard to the clay arts. She was honest when she'd told him she just knew what she liked. However, some of her employees in Yokohama often commented on her ability to sniff out evidence when no one else could, and her penchant for planning legal strategies that at first glance looked like they had no chance in hell, only to work brilliantly in court. Those were some of the reason's she had one of the best conviction rates in the country.
"Oh, my," she let out surprised, hardly knowing how to respond to him. Well, she did know what she wanted to say, but did she feel competent to do what he asked? Were her tastes in 'one of a kind' pieces the same as those who would frequent the shows and buy what was on display? If she was wrong on her choices, it would mean not only a loss of income for the potter, but also the loss of prestige in the eyes of others. An artisan's reputation was the same as money in the bank, and it attracted buyers anxious to own a piece of art created by a popular, well-known master.
"Of course, today you picked some of my favorites, so it may do no good to have a second opinion"
Tokio smiled widely at his statement before replying, "At least I would be in good company, then." If her tastes were similar to his, then how could she go wrong giving him an opinion about which pieces might sell in a gallery show? After all, she would be giving him a woman's point of view. Although women usually looked for something attractive and unique to have in their homes, some women also considered the functionality of a piece. She was one of those. She loved the beauty of an item, but to Tokio, pieces should also be enjoyed by being used, at least when entertaining guests.
"Your offer is quite tempting, but I would worry that if my input was not similar to the tastes of the buying public, it would cause you a loss of not only income, but also of professional stature." Tokio knew that the public could be quite fickle when it came to the type of art they supported. In fact the likes and dislikes of some art patrons could change as quickly as the winds in the winter. If she chose pieces that people didn't like, it could adversely affect his popularity.
The attorney paused, not certain about whether to continue. Her type of employment was no secret; it was only the mission she was carrying out for her brother that fell into that category.
"I'm afraid that I am more competent in the courtroom, than I am in a pottery studio, but I really can't resist your offer," Tokio admitted. She would accept even if only to have a reason to have another conversation with him. She found this man fascinating and would welcome the opportunity to develop a friendship with him. Maybe when she was finished with her job for her brother, maybe then, she could think about having a real future with someone. She could tell that Kakunoshin-san was someone worth knowing.
Tokio gave him a sincere smile as she paid for her purchases and he handed her the bag containing the carefully wrapped items. "Thank you Kakunoshin-san. I've enjoyed my time in your studio. The potter nodded in response and Tokio turned and left the shop.
To follow what Tokio does next please see the Gumi Reloaded story, A Journey of a Thousand Miles.