The Florist and the Screw Maker

Serialized Novel 'Ittou-an' 42

Ten days had passed since that party.
It was the day after that when the phone at Sugimoto Florist rang.
“This is Kato from the secretary's office at Todoroki Industries. Thank you for the magnificent flower arrangement at our anniversary party the other day. Mr. Todoroki was very impressed and would like to thank you in person. I know you are busy, but could you spare some time?”
Koharu, holding the receiver to her ear, glanced at Genzo. Genzo shook his head in silence.
“Unfortunately, my father is busy right now. I will call you back.”
After hanging up, Koharu sighed, “You’re doing it again.” Genzo kept pretending not to hear while changing the water in the buckets.

Three days later, the phone rang again.
“This is Todoroki. Please excuse my secretary Kato’s behavior the other day. I apologize for bothering you while you are busy, but...”
This time, Genzo picked up the receiver himself.
“A florist only needs to accept payment for flowers. I will accept your sentiment alone.”
He said just that and hung up abruptly.
Koharu opened her mouth in disbelief.
“Dad, that man is the chairman of Todoroki Industries. It’s a big company.”
“Titles don’t matter to a florist.”
Genzo replied curtly.

Three more days passed.
Returning from his morning procurement, Genzo noticed a figure standing in front of the shop.
It was a man in his late sixties. He had a sturdy build and a short, cropped haircut. His large hands were gnarled. At first glance, he looked like some kind of craftsman, but there was an undeniable weight to his presence.
“Are you Mr. Sugimoto?”
“That’s me.”
“I am Todoroki.”
Genzo stopped in his tracks. The man continued quietly.
“I thought I wouldn’t get anywhere over the phone. Please forgive my intrusion, but I came here directly.”
Genzo observed the man in silence. Genzo had a habit of looking at people’s hands first. Deep stains of machine oil were etched into the skin between the nails of Todoroki’s hands.
“...Would you like to come in?”
At Genzo’s words, the corners of the man’s eyes softened slightly.

When he led him to the back of the shop, Koharu hurriedly brought tea.
Todoroki slowly looked over the freshly purchased flowers waiting for their turn in the buckets.
“...They are beautiful.”
“I just bought them at the Ome market this morning. I do the selecting myself. I look at the face of the flower rather than the market price.”
After a moment of silence, Todoroki said as if savoring the words,
“It’s the same for us.”
“With screws?”
“Yes. Even with screws of the same specification, the precision varies from one to another. If you only chase the numbers, you can’t grasp the real thing.”
Genzo glanced at Todoroki’s hands.
“Do you still go out to the workshop floor?”
“Every morning. I believe my work is finished once I leave the floor.”
“You still have oil on your hands.”
“I was worried about the condition of a machine this morning. I couldn’t help but touch it.”

The talk of flowers and the talk of screws overlapped in a strange way.
When Genzo said, “Every flower has a different face,” Todoroki replied, “Every screw has its own quirks.”
“Even if they are made by machine?”
“Yes. That’s why, in the end, I check with my eyes and touch with my hands. Nothing beats human intuition.”
Genzo pulled a chrysanthemum from the bucket.
“This one has the best face today. It’s not about logic; that’s just the only way to put it.”
“That sense of ‘not knowing’ is probably what deserves the most trust.”
At Todoroki’s words, Genzo looked at him with a different gaze than before.

“So,” Genzo began, “do you still intend to invite me to dinner?”
“Of course.”
“You’re a persistent man.”
“I’m often told that,” Todoroki said with a wry smile. “But I really wanted to tell you. The moment I saw the flowers at that party, I saw my hometown. The old tree that grew behind the factory in Takaoka, Toyama, and the wildflowers that bloomed at its feet. Beyond just thanking you, I wanted to ask how you arrived at that scenery.”
Genzo sipped his tea in silence. Koharu quietly placed a refill down.
“Takaoka... a town of metal, isn’t it.”
“Yes. It’s a production center for copperware, a land that has faced metal for a long time. I grew up there and came to face screws.”
Genzo thought for a while, then finally looked up.
“Dinner is a no,” Genzo said.
Todoroki raised his eyebrows slightly.
“But,” Genzo continued, “I know a good place. It’s more of a place for sake than a meal, but I’ll guide you if you like.”
Todoroki looked at Genzo with slight surprise. Then he laughed quietly.
“Thank you.”
“No need for thanks,” Genzo said. “Just, I want you to take one flower.”
“For me?”
“It’s the chrysanthemum with the best face today. Decorate your factory with it.”
Todoroki accepted it with both hands.
Koharu was peeking from the back of the kitchen. She felt like it had been a long time since she had seen her father make a face like that.

That night, Genzo and Todoroki passed through the noren curtain of Ittou-an.
“Welcome,” Hiroko greeted them. She widened her eyes slightly when she saw the person next to Genzo.
“Hiroko-san, he’s an acquaintance,” Genzo said. That was all.
Toku-san and Oshige-san were at the counter.
Oshige-san stared at Todoroki.
“Gen-san, that’s rare. Bringing someone along.”
“It’s fine once in a while,” Genzo said.
Todoroki settled into the counter. He slowly looked around the shop. The plain wood counter, the modest lanterns, the sound of a kitchen knife leaking from the kitchen.
“It’s a good shop,” Todoroki said quietly. It wasn’t flattery; it was said as if his true feelings had just come out.
Hiroko smiled.
Haruto brought the appetizer.
“Tonight’s turnip has a high sugar content,” Haruto said with a straight face. “It’s 12 degrees. Because autumn has deepened.”
Todoroki looked at Haruto for a while. Then he ate a piece of the turnip.
“It’s sweet,” he said quietly.
“That’s because it’s 12 degrees,” Haruto said, and returned to the kitchen.
Todoroki looked at Genzo. Genzo said, “That’s the kind of man he is.”
Todoroki laughed softly.
“A man who looks at the face of flowers and a man who speaks in numbers are in the same shop.”
“This is that kind of shop,” Hiroko said quietly.
Todoroki sipped his warm sake.
The night at Ittou-an began slowly.