Work Text
Seiji Amasawa took one hand off of his handlebars just long enough to glance at his wristwatch. The time read 4:47 P.M.
Oh, no! I’m going to be late
, he thought, pushing himself to pedal his bicycle faster. What he hoped would be the last two violins of his apprenticeship were slung hastily over his shoulder after a tedious bout of last minute adjustments. His client, Mr. Hoffmann, was known to be a stickler for details, and famously the final stop for all of Seiji’s mentor’s apprentices. The lightweight instruments felt like bricks strapped to his back as he rounded onto a steep incline.
Seiji stood so that he could pedal with all of his strength. Droplets of sweat speckled his forehead, plastering a few strands of his dark brown hair against his skin. His breath became labored.
Halfway there
, he cheered himself on. The image of the polaroid picture Shizuku had sent along with her most recent letter flashed before his eyes. She was smiling from ear to ear, wearing a chunky, red, cable-knit sweater beneath a pair of denim overalls.
“You can do this!” he imagined her saying. “I’m so proud of you.”
Seiji pedaled onward, gripping his handlebars until his knuckles turned white. When he reached the top of the hill, he expelled a sigh of relief. He smiled back at Shizuku in his mind, and continued at a swift, steady pace toward Oskar Music School. He came to a careful halt at the front door, hopped off of his bike, and flipped the kickstand into place with his foot. He used the back of his hand to dab his forehead dry and straightened out his white, button-up shirt as he dashed up the stairs to the music school. He reached out and grabbed the brass door knocker, knocking three times upon the forest green door before him.
The door swung open, and, behind it, was a tall gentleman with a neat crop of blonde hair. He smiled at Seiji beneath a bushy mustache, but his blue eyes seemed to pierce straight through him.
“Hello, Mr. Amasawa,” said the man in German. “Come on in.”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Hoffmann. Thank you,” replied Seiji, stepping over the threshold into the Oskar Music School. No matter how many deliveries he made over the last eight months he spent in Germany, Seiji always surprised himself when he could carry a conversation in German. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. I wanted to make sure the violins were perfect.”
“Ah, that’s okay. You had a minute to spare.” Mr. Hoffmann waved away Seiji’s worries. “We’ll make it quick.”
He led Seiji into the shop area of the school. It was a quaint, old building with only three rooms on the bottom floor. Two of the rooms were for private lessons, and another was where students could purchase lesson books and instruments for learning. Mr. Hoffmann planted himself behind the counter and smiled down at Seiji, who removed the violins from his back and set them carefully down between them.
“Let’s see what we’re working with here.” Mr. Hoffmann unlatched and opened the violin cases, revealing Seiji’s latest work.
The scent of the varnish wafted up into Seiji’s nostrils: alcohol with a pleasant hint of lavender. He gazed at the pair of violins along with Mr. Hoffmann, crossing his fingers discreetly behind his back that this final order would be satisfactory. If it wasn’t, he’d have to return to Italy for further instruction. He couldn’t bear to give the idea much thought. Home - Shizuku - was right within his reach. He just needed to have done well enough.
Mr. Hoffmann picked up each of the violins, inspecting them from top to bottom. He ran his fingers along the ribs into every groove. He closed one eye and peered into the sound holes. He tapped on the body and checked the string tension. After what felt like an eternity later to Seiji, he nestled the instruments back into their cases.
“Beautiful,” Mr. Hoffmann praised. “Just beautiful.”
“Thank you very much, sir.” Seiji uncrossed his fingers and relaxed his hands at his sides. His heart thrashed wildly within him as his relief became jubilation.
It took a great deal of restraint for him to stand patiently as Mr. Hoffmann secured the violin cases closed and popped the cash register drawer open. He silently mouthed counting to himself as he added up the euros for Seiji’s payment. When he was done, he extended the money to Seiji for him to take.
“And here’s what I owe you,” he said warmly. His blue eyes appeared much softer now that they weren’t scrutinizing the most important craftsmanship of Seiji’s life to date.
“Thank you. It was a pleasure doing business with you, sir,” said Seiji, accepting his payment and stowing it away in his wallet.
“Likewise. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Mr. Amasawa.”
“You too, Mr. Hoffman!”
Seiji felt like he was walking amongst clouds as he made his way back to his bicycle. He really did it. Three years of training led up to this moment. When his mentor in Italy received word of his approval from Mr. Hoffmann, his luthier license would follow shortly thereafter. He envisioned a cozy basement workshop that doubled as a writing studio for Shizuku. He could tinker away on his violins while she penned her next big adventure. He couldn’t wait to plan it all out with her.
Instead of descending the bottom two stairs outside of the music school, Seiji leapt up with his arms in the air. When he landed on the pavement, he threw a victory sign up to the sky.
“I did it!” he celebrated. “I’m coming home, Shizuku.”
He took his bike by the handlebars and tapped the kickstand upward with his foot. Just as he was about to hop on, he found himself hesitating. Across the road, a shop on the corner of the street caught his eye. A midnight blue storefront with a large window showcasing a variety of charming knick-knacks and floral china intrigued him. A sign over the door read “L’s Bells & Whistles”. In a smaller font beneath the shop name was the word “Antiques”.
The memory of his grandfather organizing the shelves of his own antique shop rushed to Seiji’s mind, and another surge of excitement came over him at the realization that he would be reunited with him in just two days.
Maybe I can find him a gift?
Seiji wondered, and he walked his bike over to the shop.
I’ve already got a few things for him and Shizuku, but I could look around anyway
. Seiji pushed the door open to the pleasant sound of a bell chiming brightly to hail his entrance.
T he sound seemed to startle the shopkeeper behind the counter. She looked up from polishing the face of an old mantel clock to see who had entered the store. She was an elderly woman with stark white hair that fell just above her shoulders. Seiji sheepishly approached the counter.
“Hello,” he greeted her in German. “Sorry if I scared you, ma’am.”
“That’s okay,” replied the woman, setting down her polishing cloth and focusing her attention on Seiji. “You caught me in the middle of a daydream.”
Seiji smiled softly to himself, reminded once again of Shizuku.
“What can I do for you, sweetie?” asked the shopkeeper.
Seiji pursed his lips and gritted his teeth as the word
sweetie
reached his ears. After spending three years in foreign countries to finish up his apprenticeship, he did not feel like he should be addressed like a child anymore.
“I’d just like to take a look around. I’ll be quick.”
“Well, you’ve only got fifteen minutes until close, but you can take as much of that time as you’d like.” She returned to polishing the clock.
Seiji paced slowly around the shop, weaving between shelves and antique furniture to peruse the smaller pieces for potential souvenirs. He glanced over dancer figurines, handmade ceramic pottery, bronze, bejeweled hand mirrors, obsolete kitchen gadgets, among other treasures. While the pieces were certainly intriguing, Seiji didn’t quite find anything that felt like it belonged to his grandpa or Shizuku.
As he approached the counter to bid adieu to the shopkeeper, his eyes traveled up to the knick-knacks on the shelves behind her. When Seiji’s eyes reached the top shelf, he found himself at a loss for breath. A statue of a white cat holding a bouquet of lilies wearing a floor length, pink gown and a blue hat stared back at him with ice-blue eyes.
“Find anything?” asked the shopkeeper without taking her eyes off of the clock.
Seiji’s heart rate quickened as he pointed to the shelf behind her. “What can you tell me about that statue up there? The white cat with the pink dress.”
The shopkeeper’s posture seemed to stiffen, and the warm tone of her voice grew cooler. “She’s not for sale,” she said curtly, and she set the polishing cloth down on the counter with a
thump
that made Seiji wince. “And it's really about time I close up for the night.”
“U-understood,” he stuttered. “Have a good night, ma’am.”
“You too.” She was not smiling when Seiji turned to leave.
As Seiji returned to his bike, he drew in a deep breath and exhaled sharply. He resolved to return to the store tomorrow. It was his final day in Germany, after all. If that statue truly was Louise, he would do whatever he could to bring her home to the Baron.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Seiji returned to L’s Bells and Whistles first thing the following morning. The shopkeeper perked up behind the counter at the sound of the bell, but her brow furrowed at the sight of him.
“If you’re back for that statue, I’m sorry, but you can’t have her,” she said sternly. “She belongs to somebody else.”
Seiji clenched his fists at his sides. “Please,” he pleaded. He marched over to the counter, planted both hands upon it, and leaned over it towards the shopkeeper. “I beg you. Just hear me out.”
The shopkeeper crossed her arms. “Well, I’m not going to kick you out of my store just because you want to talk about a piece, but you aren’t going to change my mind.”
Seiji swallowed and stood to his full height. “I think my grandfather told me about that statue back in Japan,” he explained. “Nishi - his name is Shiro Nishi.”
The shopkeeper’s arms instantly untangled. She raised a trembling hand up toward her face, hovering it over her mouth. “Shiro Nishi... that’s a name I have not heard for a
very
long time.”
“Fifty years ago,” Seiji pressed on, “when he was studying in Germany, he wanted to buy a pair of statues - Baron and Louise - but Louise went away for repairs, and he had to leave Germany before she was finished. If it weren’t for the war, Grandpa would have come home with both Baron
and
Louise. All this time, he’s kept Baron, hoping he’d find Louise for him someday. If that’s Louise, they’re meant to be together, ma’am. Please.”
A tear spilled over the shopkeeper’s eye, and she lowered her hand from her face to reveal a wistful grin. In fluent Japanese, she said, “I should have known from your spirit that you were related to Shiro.” She let out a giggle in spite of herself. “My, I haven’t said his name in so long.” She tenderly gathered Seiji’s hands in her own. “Dear,
my
name is Louise.”
Seiji squeezed her hands in return. “I’m Seiji,” he introduced himself. “Seiji Amasawa. Shiro Nishi is my Grandpa.”
“Well, I suppose Miss Louise belongs to you then, Seiji. I’ve been holding onto her all of this time for your grandpa. I always hoped he’d come walking through that door someday, but our lives took different directions when the war came... and so it goes...” Louise slipped her hands out of Seiji’s and turned around to retrieve the cat statue from the shelf. She gazed lovingly upon the statue, cradling it before her, soaking in the details of this treasured relic from a more colorful time in her life. Before setting it down on the counter, Louise asked, “Are you in a hurry? I’d like to write your grandfather a letter.”
“I have all day,” Seiji assured her.
“Wonderful. I won’t take too long now.”
“Take all the time you need, Miss Louise.”
Louise’s warm smile returned. “Thank you for being so stubborn, sweet- Seiji,” she quickly corrected herself.
“Thank you for keeping her safe for all this time.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The walk from the train station to his grandfather’s shop felt longer than it ever had before. Excitement and anxiety fluctuated within Seiji with every step he took. Knowing that Shizuku was but a few moments away from him knotted up his stomach. What would she think of him after all of this time? Would his calloused fingers gross her out? Has he changed very much over the last three years? A similar feeling settled over him about presenting Louise to his grandfather. What would his reaction be? What did Miss Louise write in her letter? How would he feel about it all?
At last, Seiji’s eyes settled on his grandfather’s antique shop for the first time in what felt like forever. On a chair beside the door, sat a familiar face smiling down at a plump, sleepy cat in her lap. Seiji expelled a sharp sigh of relief at the sight of her, resulting in a puff of air that cut into the winter chill before him. He felt tears start in his eyes as he wondered how long Shizuku sat waiting for him on the front porch in the cold. As he drew nearer to the shop, Shizuku’s head perked up at the sound of his footsteps. She stood promptly to her feet, causing Moon to leap out of her lap and trot away.
“Shizuku!” Seiji waved with his arm fully extended, absolutely thrilled that she could hear him utter her name this time.
“Seiji!” Shizuku rushed off of the porch to meet him, and threw her arms around him. “Welcome home!”
Seiji clung back. “Finally,” he breathed. “Thank you, Shizuku.”
Shizuku leaned out of his arms and offered him a smile warm enough to shield him from the weather. Seiji felt himself blush, feeling compelled to kiss her, but realizing they had never even had the opportunity for their first kiss before he left for Italy. Three years of missing her seemed to flood over him all at once, and he quickly pulled her in for a second, tighter embrace. He felt like crying again, but held his breath to remain strong.
At first, Shizuku giggled. “Seiji!” When he did not reply, Shizuku latched onto his coat and squeezed fistfuls of the fabric. Seiji felt her breath stagger, and heard a sniffle muffled by his shoulder. “I missed you too.”
“Well, I didn’t say it enough in any of my letters,” he said, cradling the back of her head. Her hair felt so perfect, so soft. It was so good to be home.
“You didn’t have to.”
The sound of boots creaking on the porch floorboards rang out, accompanied by the teasing voice of his grandfather. “I thought I heard a fuss out here.”
Seiji and Shizuku parted, and Seiji quickly wiped his eyes dry. “Grandpa!” He ran over to hug his grandfather.
“Welcome home, Seiji,” said Grandpa Nishi, giving his grandson a loving pat on the back as they embraced. He then reached for the doorknob and waved the two of them inside. “Now, it’s far too cold out here for any of us. I’ll make us something hot to eat so that we can hear all about the end of your apprenticeship.”
“And then you’ll have to repeat it all for my parents when we go there after!” added Shizuku, jittering with enthusiasm.
After the door closed behind him, Seiji gripped the strap on his travel bag, and he said, “Before we have lunch, I have something I need to give you, Grandpa. It’s actually something important.”
Grandpa Nishi stopped in his stride, and turned his full attention to his grandson. “Important?” he chuckled. “Well, what could this be?”
Seiji reached into his bag and carefully retrieved the wrapping paper that contained the statue of Louise. His heart pounded boisterously as he passed the package over to his grandfather, who took it in both hands. As he tore away the ivory paper and revealed the stoic face and blue eyes of the white cat in the pink dress, his hands began to tremble. A gasp escaped Shizuku, and she clapped a hand over her mouth at the sight of the statue.
With a wavering voice, Grandpa Nishi asked, “How in the world did you find her, Seiji?” Just as the question passed his lips, and the final piece of wrapping had been removed, a sealed envelope fell to the floor between his feet.
Seiji swiftly kneeled down to save his grandfather the trouble of retrieving the letter. “She was in an antique shop in Germany. The shopkeeper said she knew you. This letter should explain everything.”
Grandpa Nishi ogled wide-eyed at the handwriting on the front of the envelope, surely recognizing the gentle curves of his own name for the first time in decades. He slipped the letter into a pocket and offered Seiji a grin. He then shifted his attention to the Baron, who still stood in the very same place Seiji remembered. His grandfather approached the Baron.
“You don’t have to feel sad anymore, Baron,” Grandpa Nishi said, discreetly dabbing the corners of his eyes dry as he placed Louise beside him. “Louise is right here.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
After enjoying hearty bowls of homemade ramen, Grandpa Nishi walked Seiji and Shizuku to the door. His chest tightened as his grandson and his soon to be granddaughter-in-law pulled on their winter coats, feeling the outline of Louise’s letter inside of his pocket. Seiji opened the door, inviting the light of the afternoon sun into the antique shop.
“I’ll be back after dinner, Grandpa,” said Seiji as he and Shizuku stepped out into the cold.
“Take your time,” said Grandpa Nishi. “And good luck.” He offered his grandson a wink.
“Thanks for lunch!” Shizuku bowed and smiled sweetly up at Grandpa Nishi.
“Anytime, Shizuku. You two be safe, now.”
“We will,” assured Seiji. He spotted Moon on the front porch, evidently waiting to accompany them to the train station. “We’ll have Moon with us.”
“See you later!” Shizuku waved, and the two of them set off toward the train station with Moon at Shizuku’s side.
Grandpa Nishi stood in the doorway, watching the pair adoringly until they were out of earshot.
Seiji stiffly extended a hand to Shizuku. Even the hair on his head seemed to stand on edge with nerves. “It’s cold,” he said matter-of-factly. “Maybe we should hold hands?”
“Because it’s cold? Dummy.” Shizuku giggled, and she swiftly scooped his hand into her own. “Ooh!?” She stopped in her tracks, grasped his hand with both of hers, and pulled it up to her face to inspect it. “Are those callouses?”
With his free hand, Seiji scratched the back of his head and avoided Shizuku’s eyes. “Um, yeah...”
Shizuku squeezed his hand and beamed up at him. “You’ve been working so hard. I’m so proud of you.” She resumed holding his hand at her side, and they continued walking.
Blushing, Seiji replied, “I’m proud of you too, you know. The latest version of
Whisper of the Heart
is incredible!”
“My editor called me yesterday! She said it’s finally ready to send off to some publishers to see if they’ll take it.”
“Really?!” Seiji seemed to get a little skip in his step. “Shizuku, that’s amazing. My name’s going to be the first one on it in the library.”
Grandpa Nishi closed the door and made his way over to the fireplace. He reached for the letter in his pocket. He stood examining the prim, sweeping handwriting across the face of the envelope once more. When he felt ready, he settled into his green armchair and carefully opened it. With unsteady hands, he withdrew a handwritten letter and began to read.
Dear Shiro,
It’s me, Louise. Where do I possibly begin after all this time? Your wonderful grandson, Seiji, found me in the antique shop I opened in Germany. He reminds me of my own grandson. I’m grateful he granted me the opportunity to finally give you an explanation about why I disappeared before you could return (if you ever did).
It was a split decision on a moment’s notice. When the war came, I thought I’d be able to pull through here, but I eventually had no other choice but to get out of the country. I’d hoped I’d be back soon enough to explain everything to you, but days turned to weeks, weeks to months, and months to years. The longer I spent away from Germany, the slimmer I knew the chances were of ever getting to see you again. When I finally did come back, and I couldn’t find you, I built a life around your absence.
When I first opened my antique shop, I hoped that, if you were to ever return to the country, that you might be able to find me more easily that way. Instead, I fell in love with the antiques the same way I fell in love with you. The pieces and their stories became my passion. Each restoration healed my heart a little bit.
The cat statue, who your grandson sweetly referred to as Louise, was fully fixed up before I fled Germany, and I’ve had her ever since. She was the tangible proof I had that the time we spent together wasn’t one of my daydreams. And, while I’m happy with the life I’ve built here, a corner of my heart has always beat for you. I’ve missed you, Shiro. I hope I hear back from you.
With Love,
Louise
Grandpa Nishi set the letter down in his lap, and wiped away the tears that had spilled over onto his cheeks. He reached for a pen and paper from the end table beside his armchair. He searched within himself to find the words to express to Louise that he felt the very same way. Despite living separate lives and building their own families over the spanning years, the warm glimmer of the memories they shared always followed closely behind each of them. At this point in his life, a widower in his golden years, finally being able to reach Louise felt like coming home. He pressed the pen to the paper and began to write.
Dear Louise,
I hope this finds you well...
As the sun set on Grandpa Nishi’s antique shop, the orange glow spilled through the window onto the table where the Baron and Louise stood side by side. Their eyes glistened brightly in the sunlight. However, there was no longer any trace of sadness in their expressions, as though the statues had expelled a sigh of relief that had lived trapped inside of them for decades.
THE END