Page 55 of A Serving of Hope

“Glad that’s all settled,” said Koishi. “I haven’t seen you look that scary in a long time.”

“Couldn’t let him leave without clearing that up,” replied Nagare, sitting at the counter and unfolding a newspaper. “His parents would never forgive me.”

“Dad,” said Koishi from behind.

He turned to face her, newspaper still open in his hands. “What is it?”

Koishi stepped into the kitchen and faced the family altar, tears glistening in her eyes. “I wish the three of us could have stayed at Satsukitei sometime. You know, when I was there, I kept having this image of us all sleeping side by side in that tatami room.”

Nagare set his newspaper down and came to join her in gazing at the portrait of Kikuko. “We never imagined that would be her last trip.”

“Oh, I think she knew,” said Koishi, lighting a stick of incense. “That was why she wanted it just to be the two of you.”

“Maybe. She spent the whole time grumbling about this and that, you know. Probably saw it as her last chance to get things off her chest.”

“Yeah. That sounds like her.”

Kneeling by the altar, Koishi and Nagare pressed their palms together in unison.

Chapter 6

Macaroni Gratin

1

Yuiko Tomita stepped out of Kyoto station’s central exit, took a moment to gaze up at the looming form of Kyoto Tower, then strode confidently off along Karasuma-dori.

With only a light jacket to shield her from the icy winds racing down from Mount Hiei, Yuiko hardly looked like a woman approaching sixty. Her neatly cropped black hair gave her a look of girlish innocence, while her beige two-piece hinted at a quiet, professional resolve.

She had visited Kyoto countless times with friends, but today was different. In fact—she noticed as she waited at a pedestrian crossing—the city’s very air seemed somehow altered.

She crossed Shichijo-dori, continued north up Karasuma-dori, then turned east onto Shomen-dori. Soon enough, her destination came into view.

A two-story mortar-walled building, with no sign or other indication that it was a restaurant; her only clue the enticing fragrances wafting into the street. It was all just as she’d expected. She smiled, then twitched her nostrils. Was that dashi stock she could smell?

Yuiko took a deep breath, then slid open the door.

“Hello?”

“Can I help?” a young woman in a sommelier apron asked over her shoulder.

“Is this the Kamogawa Detective Agency?” Yuiko asked with some trepidation.

The woman’s face creased into a smile. “It is. I’m the head of the agency, Koishi Kamogawa. Would you happen to be Ms. Tomita?”

Yuiko shifted her black tote to her other hand and smiled back. “That’s me—Yuiko Tomita. I’m here on Akane Daidoji’s recommendation.”

An older man in a loose samue emerged from the kitchen and bowed. “Akane let me know you’d be dropping by.”

Yuiko bowed deeply. “Yes, she told me all about this place. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

“Take a seat,” said Koishi, pulling out a chair. Yuiko removed her jacket and did as instructed.

“Koishi will speak to you in a moment about this dish you’re looking for—but first, lunch. I’ll just get a few things ready.” Nagare slipped back into the kitchen.

“Can I get you a drink?” asked Koishi.

“I’m not a big drinker, but I am partial to a good sake.”