Next door to Nazo's tobacco shop was a small tea stand. Some might call it a cafe, though they had no coffee, only two types of tea, and one small table with two chairs on the sidewalk. The tea shop usually opened about 30 minutes before Nazo's store. When the mood struck, he would stop by for what he considered a mediocre oolong, and brief conversation with the curt and abrasive owner, whom he called Homura-san. He wasn't sure if that was really her name, but it is what he called her.
Homura-san was at least 20 years older than Nazo, Her tea shop had been in the same spot for decades before Nazo had even considered renting the space next door for his tobacco shop. At some point in the past, Nazo’s shop had been a pottery or housing goods retailer. In the past, hand-made tea kettles, plates, and cooking pots were the norm. As time passed, these goods became mass-produced across Japan and China. Old artisan pottery and home goods shops disappeared as they could not compete with the fair quality and low cost of the items sold at department stores, such as Matsuya.
The pottery shop had sat vacant for nearly a year after its owner passed away. His wife had passed the year before him, and they never had any children to inherit the shop. Nazo’s life had been a bit aimless through his late teens and early twenties, and the opportunity to be in charge of his own destiny was attractive. He obtained a loan from a large tobacco company to help start the shop. After 24 months he had built up a significant base of regular customers, and was able to pay off the loan.
It was a day in his third year of business that the Chinese woman had appeared in his shop. And, the next morning, Homura-san was sitting in one of the chairs outside her tea shop, smoking her usual Pianissimo cigarettes, which Nazo despised for their rotting peach fragrance. But he was feeling parched and thirsty, and nosey, so he decided to stop by for some tea, and to indulge in some austere conversation.
As Homura-san walked from her seat to prepare the water for his tea, she looked at him drearily. His stoic charm stared back at her, waiting for whatever prickly comment was about to fly towards him. He took a seat in the other chair, as she glanced at the kettle, then back at him. She ashed her cigarette and said, in her abbreviated way, "Pretty China girl come by yesterday". Nazo wasn't surprised or impressed by this remark. He continued his stoic and unwavering stare at her, with his legs crossed comfortably. She had obviously been nosing into his shop and his yesterday had become the object of gossip. Nazo reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew a single rolling paper from a cardboard envelope. Then he reached into his jacket pocket for a small pouch of tobacco, which he expertly laid into the paper, with hardly a glance, as he continued to glare at Homura-san. As he raised the fresh cigarette to his mouth, he reached into another jacket pocket for his lighter, but Homura-san already had hers at the ready and reached out to put her flame to his shigaretto. He sucked in deep as the tip glowed brightly, and then exhaled in the general direction of Homura-san.
"What do you know about some pretty China girl?" he said, somewhat nonchalantly.
Homura-san studied Nazo's face as he said this. She was trying to determine if he was enchanted with the pretty girl, or perhaps embarrassed by her question, or if he maybe just didn't care at all. His cheeks and his lips looked tense, and his arms and shoulders seemed to be locked into place for a moment. With this, Homura-san smiled.
"You know what pretty China girl, stupid man". She said to him. Normally, she might not add the insult. But she felt it might pry lose some emotion, and then she'd get what she really wanted.
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But Nazo had played this game before. He just rolled his eyes at her comment. He decided to push back a little. "Maybe I find someone beside you to tell me how to drink tea?". He knew this would confuse her, since it was both a compliment and insult all in one comment.
Homura-san had been here before as well. "You think you so smart, huh? Why you always leave tea in kettle so long? You must like bitter. Maybe pretty China girl bitter like tea."
Nazo wanted to tell Homura-san that she was "bitter like tea", but he stopped himself before the words came out of his mouth. Instead, he offered, "Maybe pretty girl come by and treat me like man, treat me like king. Maybe pretty girl treat me better than spicy tongue Japanese tea maker?"
The kettle whistled, and Homura-san got up and poured the water into a tea vessel. She prepared his oolong by placing a pinch of loose leaves into small perforated container, which she dropped into the vessel. She placed a cup and the vessel on a small bamboo platter and bowed half-heartedly as she presented the tea to her patron, placing it on the table.
Nazo bowed his head shortly in response. He got up and took the bamboo tray next door to his shop. He was caught off guard when he saw that the "pretty China girl" was approaching his door. She was walking briskly and looked like she might just pass him by. But, she stopped just before his door as he was struggling to pull it open without spilling his tea. She quickly grabbed the door handle so that he could enter unhindered, but averted her eyes as he tried to thank her. Once inside, Nazo quickly put the tray on the display case and turned to find Biyu directly next to him.
Biyu started first. "My father, he likes good tobacco."
Nazo looked confused, but listened.
"What do you think will make good gift for Chinese businessman?"
Nazo, still a bit confused, gazed around at his cases and shelves for a few moments. Then unlocked a case on the left end of the shop. There was a small metal box, made of copper or maybe bronze. He placed it on top of the case, and opened the lid.
Biyu looked in to find what appeared to be several longer than average cigarettes, with a distinctly purple paper casing.
"These are Onshino Murasaki... considered finest in all of Japan", Nazo proffered.
To Biyu, they looked elegant and rich. She immediately assumed they were very expensive. "Oh... those are so nice".
"But must be too expensive for me?", Biyu suggested.
"One thousand yen for each", Nazo told her.
Biyu's eyes broadened and lit up. She put her hand to her check and then her mouth. "Oh. So much."
Nazo knew this might be an opportunity. And he found Biyu to be very attractive in this moment. He tried to play it cool, leaving the metal box open for her to continue to covet the luxurious cigarettes. He poured his tea into the cup, and took a few sips as he considered his next step.
"If you have dinner with me tonight, I give you special discount. One hundred yen each.".
Biyu blushed, as she understood all of what he meant by this. She knew her father would be so impressed and proud if she brought back such a luxury. She giggled slightly at the thought.
"But I'm very picky eater!" Biyu told him.
"That's ok, I only eat steamed rice", Nazo responded quickly, intending it to be a joke.
"Oh." Biyu responded, a little confused.
"I am joke. I eat many things, we go wherever you like", he said.
"Oh, so silly man."
Nazo explained she should meet him at the shop around closing time. He would have the purple cigarettes expertly packaged and wrapped and ready for her. They would walk to one of his favorite places to eat. She would become enamored with him and his conversation. He would become infatuated with her innocence and demureness.
Biyu was leaving the next day, but left Nazo with her contact information. Both were feeling elated, but subdued by the reality that they would likely never see each other again.