Chapter Text
There was something familiar about Hatano Kimie. Tachibana Wato was quietly struggling to place where had they met before. It would be too rude to ask. Instinct told her that standing quietly, unfocused to reality would not make a strong impression. Setting aside her thought process, Wato paid attention to the conversation at hand.
She observed Hatano was a woman with a genial personality filled with optimism. Every word she spoke was laced with kindness. Wato was not only treated with utmost respect, but also felt at home. Hatano offered generous samples of her honey drizzled on citrus fruit. One bite of honey sweetness and refreshing citrus tang unlocked a core memory. Wato tried this honey during the Christmas party at Honda’s place! The honey was good as she remembered. After tasting the selection, Wato purchased a sample pack, customized to flavors she liked. Wato was confident Kyoka would enjoy it as well.
Hatano thanked Wato for her patronage. This prompted Honda to ask if the park tours at the estate, 221b, would be resuming operations. Hatano perked up at the question. The businesswoman proudly shared the tours would be starting soon as Golden Week was approaching. Honda turned to Wato and remarked the park tours were a sight to see. It was a hidden local gem that somehow eluded international tourists, but managed to receive visitors from all over the country.
With the enthusiasm from Honda and Hatano, there was no way Wato could refuse an invitation. Immersing oneself in nature was quite healing. During her toughest days in residency and volunteering abroad, nature offered an oasis to de-stress. Wato was not only curious about what made the park at the 221b estate special, but also look forward visiting.
***
Kyoka was delighted by the present of honey and other local food specialties Wato brought home from the farmers market. The two sisters scrolled on the internet to find recipes based on the grocery haul. Cooking together was a welcome break for her sister. Over the kotatsu, Kyoka regaled her with amusing stories of college life.
After dinner and cleaning up, Wato retired to her room. She did a quick search on 221b. According to the internet, 221b was one of the historic structures dating back to the early twentieth century. The first owner was a businessman who made his fortune selling playing cards. He built a two story house to symbolize his wealth and social status. The architecture, a fusion of Japanese and Western styles, reflected the influence of Meiji Restoration to have the country modernize quickly as possible. Taxes imposed forced farmers to sell land neighboring the property. The owner quickly bought the lands, nearly tripling its size. 221b was fortunate to be spared from the firebombs during World War II. Yet, the owner sold the property. The new homeowner saw the potential of its vast lands to create a park as a reminder of beauty in life and foster hope. In the 1970s, the second homeowner sold the home. The third homeowners retained the park, but gave the property its name: 221b. The history search never revealed personal information of the second and third homeowners. Wato presumed the third homeowners (and their descendants) still live there.
Since Hatano was the business owner of 221 Bees, Wato also presumed the older woman was also the homeowner. Thinking about Hatano reignited her curiosity. She was sure Hatano was familiar, but where? Where had they met before? It was certainly not a déjà vu. Again, the internet nor social media were helpful in uncovering Hatano’s background. Wato took a break soon as the battery notification was up. Her phone had less than ten percent left. She quickly retrieved her charger from her vanity dress drawer. In that drawer, there was an envelope with a seal. What was the letter about? She picked it up from the drawer.
Now that her phone was charging, she turned her attention to the letter. Wato opened the letter and read the first sentence. She gasped. Many months passed since she read the content. Yet Sherlock’s rhetoric successfully caught her off guard. She read onward, learning about the complicated and difficult history between Sherlock and Moriya. It was here that she learned what Hatano was: the executor to the Futaba will and a trusted family friend.
Wato had chills as she read the words. It was clearly not her imagination or déjà vu. Did Hatano knew who she was? If Hatano did, the older woman made no indication. Tokyo was truly a small world, after all.
Now a new startling thought come to her: would Sherlock be there when she would visit 221b? That was a strong possibility. It would be nice if Sherlock was away for Golden Week. However, Wato needed to be prepared. She had not seen the other woman in person since the case that traumatized her sister. Any interaction or encounter were fortunately averted these past few months. Wato knew it would not last forever.
***
Days quickly passed. Before she knew it, was Golden Week. Tokyo seen a mass exodus as city dwellers escaped the metropolitan via var, train, or plane. The capital looking emptier on the streets was quite liberating. Wato left early on the day she would visit 221b. She left a note for her sister (who was getting much needed rest). Wato opted to take the bus to Bunkyō. Although the commute would be longer from Setagaya, at least she was not experiencing crowds like the train station was.
Honda was waiting for her when they agreed to meet at the cafe near Atomi University. Honda explained it was a short walk to 221b. Wato followed Honda as she took in the sights of Bunkyō once again. The ward had an eclectic, timeless charm. It was the home of academia with many top universities. It was also the site of literary intellect. She recalled the great Sōseki Natsume once lived here when he wrote his works.
Due to her unfamiliarity with Bunkyō, the residential neighborhoods blended in. She was surprised when Honda stopped in front of a tall Japanese wooden gate. Wato just noticed they walked around the perimeter of a wall that stretched for meters on end.
Affixed above the intercom was a nameplate that read 221b. She blinked, completely unaware that this grand estate was hidden in plain sight. Hatano’s pleasant voice came through the intercom after Honda pressed the button. Honda announced they were at the front; Hatano expressed delight and activated the unlock mechanism. Honda and Wato pushed through the wooden gate ajar to enter.
The interior was luscious green. It was a blend of Japanese garden aesthetics with Western elements such as green grass and flowers. The landscape was not jarring as there was no clear demarcation of Japanese and Western plants. Rather, the plants were planted side by side. It was seamless. Wato was no gardener, but she could tell this landscape was thoughtfully planned. The two women followed a brick paved path that lead to the front door. The black door also bore the name 221b in gold metal. The front door opened with Hatano, walking out and beaming to welcome the two guests. “Welcome to 221b! Have you eaten breakfast?”
Inside 221b, the interior design also reflected the blend of Japanese and Western taste in furniture and household goods. It was tasteful, minimal, and timeless without being frivolous or tacky. One striking feature decorated the walls. It was photography in frames of all sizes. The shots depicted famous UNESCO World Heritage Sites and natural beauty. It was not limited to Japan or the entire Asian region. There were pictures from Europe, Oceania, the Americas, and even Africa.
Hatano guided her guests to the dining room. The table was filled with a breakfast spread. There was miso soup, omelette, fresh fruit, toast, and an assortment of jam, butter, and honey. Hatano mentioned she also had tea, coffee, juice, and even water. Honda and Wato profusely thanked Hatano for her generous hospitality.
While eating, Wato was mindful of her pacing. Yes, she had not eaten breakfast since she left Setagaya earlier. There was decorum to consider as she was merely a guest. Between bites, Hatano wanted to know Wato better. It was refreshing talking to Hatano. This woman was a clean slate. Hatano did not know her background, ranging from family to the haunting demons of work abroad. It was easy to craft a persona that did not carried her baggage. Wato felt comfortable in this persona for the first time. Wato attributed this to Hatano’s personality and demeanor. She found herself wanting to be friends with this woman. Wato felt she could be the best version of herself; the trauma would not define her life or livelihood. Let the hurt stop hurting.
After breakfast, Hatano gave a tour of the house. There were rooms at the back of the house that served as a small gallery for photography. On the tour, Hatano talked about herself. “Contrary to popular belief, I am not the homeowner of 221b,” Hatano began, “I am an old family friend who became the housekeeper.” It turned out Hatano was great friends with the family matriarch, Futaba Misaki. It was a blessing at the time for two Japanese women to help each while living abroad to support their husbands. Hatano’s husband was a businessman while Futaba’s husband, Takumi, was the former consulate to UK. Hatano explained that Futaba Takumi gave his life to ensure her husband was free and safe for a hostage negotiation. This was consistent to the story Sherlock mentioned in her letter.
While Hatano and her husband never had children of their own, she was considered a second mom to the Futaba children. Becoming a blended family was more evident with the unexpected and early deaths of her husband and Futaba Takumi. The huge blow was Futaba Misaki’s cancer diagnosis. It was that moment in their most difficult time in their lives where they bonded together as a true family. Although Futaba Misaki did lose her battle to cancer, the three were indeed a family. Hence, there were no questions about Hatano taking care of 221b while the children, now adults, were working in their professions.
It struck Wato by the candor (and vulnerability) Hatano shared about her personal life. The older woman narrated without an ounce of resentment or sadness.
She could not imagine the hurt and hardships Hatano went through. Yet somehow, Hatano managed to triumph and move forward. While pain faded, scars certainly remained. That was woman who was healed. Wato found herself wanting to be a woman healed like Hatano.
“So which sibling took these pictures?” Honda asked, inspecting a picture of a forest in autumn. Wato snapped out of her musings to focus on their surroundings. They were in the second gallery room, admiring he photos. She looked at the one Honda was focused on. The forest looked like a European fairy tale. Maybe the Czech Republic?
“That would be Kento-kun,” Hatano answered with ride. “Photography is his passion. He loves taking trips in all four seasons.”
“Has he considered holding a gallery show?” Wato inquired. Futaba Kento certainly had a good eye for perspective and detail.
“He toyed with the idea, but photography is a hobby and a way to de-stress from his government job.”
Wato hummed. She could easily refer him to her boss at the gallery. They were looking for new talent to showcase for the summer and fall season. It would be wise to leave her business card to Hatano so it could be passed over to Futaba.
Honda moved to a new photo, studying it intently. It was a family photo, lovingly restored and recolored. It was taken long ago, the fashion and hair styling dated its era. The subject in the picture was a family of four. Every family member looked so young and vibrant with beaming smiles on their faces. They were sitting on the stools in photography studios use to take portrait shots. Father and son were in suit and tie while mother and daughter wore dresses. There was no question that this was the Futaba family.
Hatano trailed off, noticing how the guests were admiring the photo. “That was their first photo after moving to the UK. Misaki told me it was a challenge to have Sherlock cooperate. The flash was too bright for her.”
“She looks exactly like her father,” Wato murmured. Then she widened her eyes. She did not mean to say that out loud!
“You know Sherlock?” Hatano asked.
“A little,” Wato admitted. She hoped Hatano would not continue this conversation.
“Since Kento-san does photography, what does his sister do?” Honda spoke up.
“That’s a hard question to answer,” Hatano admitted. “She is a polymath. Her hobbies and recreational work always have to be kinetic.”
“Does she do painting or sculpture?”
“Not really; she composes music when inspiration strikes. She is quite the engineer and scientist rather than an artist.”
“What are examples of her work?”
Hatano smiled widely. “Come with me.”
***
Wato followed Hatano into a greenhouse that was part of the property. The greenhouse was somewhat small, but boasted beautiful and fragrant flowers tat could only be found in tropic lands. All the plants in this space had tiers. Some were suspended from baskets while others were on trellises or in trough planters. Wato lost count on how many different species of plants were in the greenhouse. The clever arrangement made the plants not look cluttered nor the room claustrophobic. From being mesmerized from the plants surrounding the perimeter of the room, her eyes drifted to the center. It was a small fountain, not the typical Japanese ones, but a Western style. The designed was not ornate. Rather, it was simple and minimal. It served as a contrast to the plants.
“Sherlock design this addition herself,” Hatano explained proudly. “It all started with receiving a plumeria tree from Oahu.” She pointed to a large plumeria tree with white and yellow plumes.
“After doing research, she decided it was fitting to create a greenhouse for her tropical plants. She sketched out the dimensions for the greenhouse addition and consulted with numerous contractors before the actual construction began! Then she went on numerous trips to the Polynesian Islands, Southeast Asia, Okiniawa, Madagascar, and even the Bahamas to purchase plants from farms.
” How about the fountain?” Wato spoke up. “Was it a commission?”
Hatano admitted it was. Just then, sprinklers from the top, sides, and bottom slowly popped out. Gentle mist covered the room as each plant was watered.
Hatano lead her guest away. It was time for the park tour.
221b park was actually in the backyard of the estate. The North gate was the entrance for guests. Admission was free, but guests needed a reservation. The park was sustained by donations, but mostly merchandise and Hatano’s honey business brought in revenue. The park itself was more expansive than she imagined. It reminded her of the beautiful lawns showcased in Versailles or English manor houses. She could tell there was love and care.
Although Hatano spoke, she was half-listening. She was fascinated by her entire surround. Every flora had a tiny trilingual sign: the common name in English, the scientific name in Latin, and the Japanese translation. There was even a QR code. Wato scanned it on her phone. There was an audio and video link. Both medias contained Sherlock’s voice narrating the significance of the plant.
It was not her sight that was fascinated by the scenery. She could smell the fragrance of flowers from the light breeze. She could even hear gentle water trickling from a fountain near the North gate. She could even hear families enjoying themselves. That caught her attention as a portion of the West wing was a different garden with an assortment of fruits, herbs, and vegetables growing. There was a laughter and a joy as families harvested the produce.
“That’s the community garden,” Hatano said, walking next to Wato. “It’s the first of its kind in Bunkyō.”
“What makes it so special?” Wato asked.
“It’s definitely more spacious than community gardens on rooftops,” Hatano explained. “As it is on private property, it is more accessible. The locals need to make a reservation online for harvesting.”
A community garden's success was completely depended on a community to act as stewards of the land. It was a shared responsibility that required cooperation and social interaction. The fact this garden was built on Futaba property (with no entrance fee) was shocking. Her impression of Sherlock was a woman completely antisocial and a misanthropist. Here, she cared for her community. Sherlock used her privilege of wealth and property to convert it to a common good in improving air quality; food security; access to nutritional and fresh food; mental and social health. There was kindness and compassion in the actions Sherlock undertook.
“And the community garden is run by volunteers.” Hatano rambled, unaware that Wato was now listening to her. “Many of them are students from agriculture and environment programs from University of Tsukuga and Todai. You know, this community garden is famous among academic and professional circles! The university volunteers are serious and earnest in maintaining it. Their only requests are references and letters of recommendations. Sherlock grants these requests and these students are rewarded with professional opportunities.”
Writing recommendation letters spoke volumes for applications-whether it was for higher education or professional development. That was quite generous.
“How about the garden itself?” Preserving a beautiful garden like this one was not an individual endeavor. Moreover, Sherlock was dedicated to her trade as a consulting detective.
Hatano continued to smile. She truly loved the Futaba children with all her heart. “The park is staffed by landscapers. I don’t know the details, but they are contractors that continually offer their services after a case Sherlock solved for them.”
In addition to her generosity and altruism, Sherlock also garnered loyalty. Visiting 221b had been a transformational experience for her. Wato’s impression of Sherlock completely changed.
***
Later, Hatano pointed to a patch of flowers with a small wooden towers dotted in the middle. This was where beekeeping activity took place. The East wing was closed off to guests as a safety precaution. This was where Hatano spend most of her days, harvesting the honey. Sherlock even helped her when there were many orders to process.
The older woman stepped away when a visitor wanted to buy merchandise at the gift shop. Honda, meanwhile, walked off to complete the self guided audio tour. Wato opted to explore this section without breaching the beekeeping territory. Wato wondered if Sherlock encouraged Hatano to open a small business. It seemed like something consulting detective would do to uplift others for financial security.
She continued to walk around, mindful of trampling flowers and stray bees. Wato halted when a bee landed on her shoulder. This was followed by another bee landing as well. She remained perfectly still. It felt like an eternity as the bees refused to fly off. She could not stay like this forever! What should she do?
Seconds later, a tall figure wearing a bee suit approach her. The person did not say anything, other than gently holding a hand out for the bees to crawl on. The beekeeper walked to the wooden towers and opened a drawer to deposit the bees. Wato bowed from her spot as thanks. She was about to turn on her heel and find Honda. She was surprised to see the beekeeper turn around and jogged back. The beekeeper stopped right in front of her and began to take off the hat veil that obscured the beekeeper’s face.
Shaggy tousle dark brown locks were revealed first. Then the headgear was lowered.
“Wato,” Sherlock rasped.