Hyouka:Volume 4 The Case of the Hand-made Chocolate

Story 6 - The Case of the Hand-made Chocolate

1

Today, it is common knowledge that there is more than one perspective to any topic. In this age, it is impossible to survive as a middle school student while being unable to consider the opposite viewpoint. But then again, if you take this one step further, that would mean that while we are under the impression that we know the things around us like they were flesh and blood, we just can't say for sure, and that is exceedingly bad for our psychological stability. So instead of pursuing the truth, we go for plan B, which is not looking into the authenticity of things above a certain depth, or in other words, we believe. This way, we can finally shake off the evils of duality and lead a perfectly normal life.

But recognizing everything in one's surroundings yet disregarding all inquiry would be a totally different problem. While believing in something is unavoidable, we should not accept things blindly. This is also common knowledge. To not accept it is unforgivable. While my personal principle does not draw a clear line regarding that belief, I wouldn't look down on people who do.

This was my follow-up to the tongue-tied Satoshi's lame excuses in this crucial moment. We were at a stairway entrance in Kaburaya Middle School after the day's lessons had ended. It was a little late, so there were only a few sparse figures of students. It had already turned dark on the other side of the open glass door, and the cold February wind blew in intermittently. Satoshi turned to look at me as if I had just saved his life, and gave me a thumbs-up.

"Ah, Houtarou, you do understand, right? The phrase 'To not accept it is unforgivable' was really interesting. Because, look, what if it were home-made cookies? You can't simply buy some cookies over the counter, decorate it with fresh cream or something and say, 'Voila, home-made cookies!', right? That's why, I basically, um, don't harbor any ill intentions, but..."

It was not every day that you could see something cause Satoshi to be so incoherent. Fukube Satoshi. He's someone I've known sinec I entered middle school, and our friendship is quite deep. He's short, gives off a weak image, and has a face that does not exude dignity or strength in the slightest, but in reality he's quite a courageous guy... But not this time. The opponent's too strong.

The person who had ambushed and cornered Satoshi was a small female student who could pass as an elementary school student. Her name is Ibara Mayaka. She has been in the same class as me since first grade in elementary school. This is only my opinion, but her appearance has not changed one bit in the nine years I've known her, if you discount the changes in her size. In addition, while we may have strong affinity, we have exchanged close to zero words with each other. Even now, Ibara doesn't listen to my words. With her head cast downwards, her left hand on her waist, and her right hand holding a present wrapped in red wrapping paper, Ibara let out a sigh and spoke in a low voice.

"Basically, you're trying to say this: For something to be called home-made chocolates, they have to be made from cacao beans. A chocolate plate that is melted in hot water and reshaped is not counter as home-made chocolate. So my Valentine chocolate is not home-made. That's what you mean, right?"

It was the 14^th of February, 2000 AD. Saint Valentine's Day. It's the day when chocolate sales skyrocket, and it is absolutely ordinary for advertisements to be manipulated if there is profit to be earned. In fat, doing it in February is a smart move. I'm sure that many people would like to believe that the last chance to confess one's love is right before the season of farewells. They certainly wouldn't think that this arrangement was planned.

This wasn't Ibara's first time confessing her feelings to Satoshi. In each of her previous attempts, Satoshi simply evaded the subject. But with today being Valentine's Day, that was impossible. Ibara was serious about it. Having been hit by Satoshi's careless words, she was seething with anger.

Her demeanor was still fairly stable, but I wonder what kind of light those downcast eyes were holding. Those were eyes that would even scare off a fierce god, I thought, but then again, I'm only having these nonchalant thoughts because I'm not involved in this. Satoshi, being the person concerned, took the full brunt of Ibara's stare, but he still managed to give a reply.

"I wouldn't go that far, but..."

"But that's what you wanted to say, right?"

"Well, put simply, yes."

Ibara raised her head, as her rage spewed forth.

"I see! So that's what you're trying to say! I, I took all that trouble... Just for Valentine's Day! Fine! I get it! If that's what you want..."

Without pause, she ripped apart the red wrapping paper in one breath to reveal a heart-shaped chocolate wrapped in cling film. She then tore up the cling film, opened her small mouth as wide as she could, and chomped down on the chocolate, which had gone hard due to the cold February wind. With a crack, the pointed bit at the bottom of the heart was bitten clean off and chewed noisily by Ibara.

"I'll definitely do it, got that?"

Both of us were taken aback by Ibara's unexpected actions. A few male students who just happened to pass by peered at us, probably curious about what was happening, but then soon retreated, knowing full well to let sleeping dogs lie. With the chocolate she had taken great pains to make destroyed, Ibara glared at Satoshi. She now had a scary expression that was neither anger nor sadness, just pure burning combativeness. Ibara thrust the broken heart at Satoshi.

"Remember this, Fuku-chan, I mean, Fukube Satoshi!"

"Wha-What?"

Stunned, Satoshi asked without thinking. Ibara replied with a sonorous declaration.

"Next year! The 14^th of February, 2001 AD! I'll make a masterpiece that even you'll accept, and cram it right into your face! You better remember it!"

Beginning to cry, Ibara rushed down the corridor. Her retreating figure faded at the staircase and soon disappeared. When I looked back, I saw that Satoshi had an awkward expression on is face, but he shrugged as if that was usual. I asked,

"Is that alright?"

"Perhaps I was a little mean..."

"Wasn't she crying?"

"Mayaka? Nah, she'll be fine."

Satoshi said as he removed his shoes from his locker. I did the same and shrugged, deciding to forget about Ibara. Her caustic words were probably just a channel for her to vent her grief, I thought, but then again, I'm not involved in this matter.

More importantly, Ibara was planning to give Satoshi home-made chocolate next year, but I wonder if that would really work out. After all, there are only a few days to the high school entrance examinations. Both of them are aiming to get into Kamiyama High School, but if one of them messes up, they'll be separated, and as they say, out of sight, out of mind. However, I also have to prepare for the exams, and I don't have the luxury to worry about them. The cold February wind blew in onec again, causing me to shiver uncontrollably.

2

... That's what I remembered about what happened last year.

Come to think of it, I was slightly more indifferent about it last year compared to this year. It's most probably because Ibara and I were really estranged at that time, so it couldn't be helped.

All three of us graduated from Kaburaya Middle School and entered Kamiyama High School together without a hitch. Then, for some reason, all of us chose the same club activity. I think of Satoshi as a friend, and Ibara obviously liked Satoshi, but the three of us are fundamentally not a close group of friends who would hang out together. The fact that all of us entered the mysterious, meaningless Classics Club one after another would be, if put poetically, a practical joke of fate; if put prosaically, the end result of a course of events.

Speaking of the club known as the Classics Club, just the three of us would be absolutely inadequate for its activities. In the Geography Lecture Room, which the Classics Club borrows, there are four members. The last one is the most hard to please.

That difficult person raised her voice, breaking my peaceful reminiscing.

"Eh? What did you mean by that? I'm curious!"

I turned back, and the first thing to come into my sight was long, black hair. I couldn't see her face since her back was facing me, but I could still tell what facial expression she was having right now. When she says the usual "I'm curious!", her large eyes, the only part of her that betrayed the impression of a Yamato Nadeshiko , would widen even more, and her cheeks would become slightly red. Thanks to her extreme curiosity, the Classics Club has been able to function as a club without boredom over the last year. Since I would actually prefer boredom to work, that troubled me to no end.

Chitanda was having a face-to-face conversation with Ibara in the middle of the classroom. I was flipping through a book nearby, but probably thinking nothing of me, the two of them were exchanging words at their usual volume. If I hadn't shifted my attention to the matters of the past, I would be directly receiving the contents of their conversation. Not that I wanted to eavesdrop, but I could hear Ibara's reply.

"I mean, chocolate remained as a drink for 4,000 years not because the South American people did not have any ideas, but because they lacked the technical means."

Seems like those two have been conversing about chocolate this whole time. It would be more accurate to say that Ibara was lecturing Chitanda, though. That's probably the reason why I suddenly remembered about Valentine's Day last year. Last year..., yes, about one year has passed since then. It was now February in the year 2001 AD. To conserve electricity, the heaters in school could not be set about 16 degrees, leaving much to be desired. While I must commend their efforts to save energy, I hate being cold.

But as if thrusting aside the cold, Ibara was talking with ever-increasing amounts of enthusiasm.

"After the Spanish conquistadors brought chocolate to Europe, some time was needed for it to spread as a luxury grocery item. That's because after pulverizing cacao beans, all that could be produced was a sticky liquid with more than 50% fat content. In a time when coffee was readily available, they didn't want to drink something like that."

"I cannot tolerate caffeine, so I cannot drink coffee, but..."

After a short pause, Chitanda continued.

"A drink with a 50% fat content does not seem to be good."

Well, it seems like she's tried drinking mayonnaise before.

"It was actually quite bad for digestion."

"But it still spread, right?"

"It became really widespread after people started adding sugar to it. It even became a drink superior to coffee for the English. Moreover, because of its high caloric content, it was often used for medical purposes. It was quite a high-class beverage at the time."

"It was used as medicine?"

"Yes, as an aphrodisiac."

I could sense Chitanda tilting her head.

"Eh? How do you spell that?"

Ibara was about to answer, but then she stiffened, and the conversation stopped temporarily. I raised my head, which was buried in my book, to take a peek at Ibara's expression, and noticed a distinct flush on her face. She was having a hard time trying to spell the word she had brought up without thinking.

"To hold a meeting, then..."

"To hold a meeting, then?"

"Anyway!"

Ibara forcibly changed the subject. I was about to laugh at her disconcerted manner, but somehow managed to stifle it. I know how to spell it, I think.

"For the chocolate drink to be edible, it wasn't enough to simply squeeze the oil out. A method to add an alkali had to be developed in order to neutralize the acidic content and cause the oil to break down."

This technical discussion seems to have piqued Chitanda's curiosity, so Ibara's attempt at changing the subject was a success.

"Alkali? I've never heard of adding that to food... except for Chinese noodles."

Ibara continued in a somewhat relieved manner.

"However, even after doing that, the beans still had a crunchy texture, causing it to be distasteful, so they had to be crushed even more. Chii-chan, how small do you think the grains are?"

The diameter of chocolate grains? I've never considered it before. The book in my hands suddenly seemed uninteresting, and I started thinking about Ibara's question, but I couldn't imagine how small they would be.

In contrast, Chitanda hummed quietly and answered the question.

"I see. I've only heard this from the people who sell what at home, but the diameter of wheat flour is 40 to 50 micrometer. Are chocolate beans that small?"

But Ibara shook her head as if she prided herself on having this knowledge.

"I've heard that they're actually 20 micrometers in diameter!"

"... That's amazing!"

Is that a figure I should be surprised at? With no means of comparison, I could not understand at all. Is 20 micrometers that different from 50 micrometers?

... Ah, is it because there's a difference of 2.5 times?

Chitanda nodded a few times with eager admiration.

"That sounds like a difficult number for a mortar and pestle."

"Just like how you can't make ice cream without an ice cream machine, it's impossible to make chocolate from cacao beans using household equipment."

"That's a shame. Fukube-san wants chocolate made from cacao beans, right?"

Ibara let out a small sigh upon hearing those words.

"I didn't know last year that chocolate was so difficult to make, but neither did Fuku-chan, so it's fine."

"It's fine, you say..."

As Chitanda gave her reply, a smile appeared on Ibara's face. No, not the refreshing kind. To exaggerate, it would be something like this: "As her throat rumbled, I shuddered, and couldn't stop cold sweat from forming on my back. A dark enthusiasm caused twisted pleasure to spread on her lips." With clenched fists, she looked up at an oblique angle and announced,

"I'm going to make the best home-made chocolate ever! If Fuku-chan still complains, I'll lock him up and slowly explain all this to him with additional data. If that doesn't work... I'll just shove it into his mouth!"

One shouldn't incur a woman's enmity. If it's wrong to generalize about women, then I would say that I wouldn't want to provoke Ibara's resentment. Her words might be exaggerated, but they can't be treated as a joke. Unfortunately for Satoshi, the little joke that he used to reject the chocolate last year is still hanging over his head, and now it has turned out like this. Well, as they say, you reap what you sow.

As expected, Chitanda had also been pulled in by Ibara's tenacity, and was using her hands to soothe Ibara. She then asked a question to return the conversation to its original track.

"So what are you making? I know many types of candies you could make with chocolate, but..."

Having decided a long time ago, Ibara answered immediately.

"I plan on making one with a heart-shaped mold."

"Eh? But that's..."

"I know that it's quite plain, but last year's was a failure. I'm going to make sure he accepts this time."

Just when they had finally gotten to the main point, Ibara suddenly leaned forward. Chitanda also responded by drawing closer, such that it was as if their foreheads were about to collide.

"So, I want to make the best chocolate. I'll need things from a Western-style confectionery. Chitanda, do you know of any shops that sell that kind of stuff?"

For some reason, Chitanda lowered her voice and answered,

"Let's see... There should be a store that sells ingredients for professionals near the wholesale market. We could try that place."

Ibara also replied in a small voice.

"Could you take me there?"

"Of course. Would this Sunday be fine?"

"It's settled, then... and make sure you keep this a secret from Fuku-chan."

"My lips are sealed."

And thus the two girls shared an unbreakable promise.

I'm fine with it, but I'm a guy, and on top of that I'm also Satoshi's friend... If they deemed me trustworthy enough to refrain from informing Satoshi, I certainly wouldn't feel bad about it, but either way, it seems that I wasn't counted as one of the room's occupants. As I was having this thought, Ibara called out, as if having just noticed my existence.

"Ah, Oreki."

"... Yeah?"

I answered as if I had also jut noticed Ibara. Without minding my tone, Ibara gave a rare gentle smile.

"Make sure you don't say anything either."

"Sure."

"If you do..."

I already agreed not to! So please, stop staring at me with those eyes!

After school the next day. Ibara and Chitanda were holding another discussion about chocolate in the Geography Lecture Room. Not wanting to eavesdrop, I decided to head home.

I exposed the front of my trench coat to the February wind and joined the flow of people going home from school. Come to think of it, last year, when I was still in middle school, I would immediately start my journey home after school, no matter how early the lessons ended. My everyday life was devoid of purpose. I would reach home early, but I wouldn't have anything to do. I tried to think of ways to spend the time after school, but to no avail. Actually, with regards to the characteristic of a daily life lacking in purpose, this year was exactly the same as last year.

Following the crowd to the main street, I left the narrow footpath on the bridge and entered the shopping district. The winter sun, which was weak at the best of times, became even more unreliable when it came to evening. only now did I realize that the figures of my schoolmates had grown sparse. It's probably not because of the cold, but there were simply no people around. Instead, there were only cars driving past continuously.

With a sidelong glance at a dry goods store, a boutique, and a hairdressers', I proceeded along the tiled walkway. The sound of the flowing wind was mixed with the sound of electronics. I had gotten to the game center next to the hairdressers'. I was just walking past when I suddenly realized something. Out of all the bicycles lined up outside the shop, I recognized one of them. There was no doubt that this mountain bike, which had a worn-out cloth added to its left grip, belonged to Satoshi.

I checked my watch. It's not like I wanted to go in and have a few games, but I had no reason to hurry home. According to my motto, which is "If I don't have to do it, don't do it. If I have to do it, make it quick.", there was only one course of action... I should continue my journey home.

But the automatic glass door in front of me suddenly opened, and out came Satoshi. He probably noticed me inside, so he came outside to intercept me. Wearing his usual inextinguishable smile, he lifted a hand.

"Yo!"

"Hey."

Taking a glance at my expression, Satoshi spoke.

"Hmm, you don't seem to be in a rush."

Since that was obvious, I didn't reply. Satoshi pointed at the game center.

"You passed at just the right time. How about it? A game for old times' sake? I've created the sure-kill Satoshi Special, but it just isn't the same playing against the CPU."

He was challenging me to a game. I yawned.

"I haven't played for such a long time, though."

"Me too. But Houtarou, according to a report by the Central Education Commission of Inquiry, kids these days seem to be playing games all the time. If so, it would be a educational problem if one doesn't have an interest in games as a child."

Shrugging at that joke, I advanced to the shop. I had no reason to refuse.

The game center, which I hadn't been to in a long time, was illuminated way too bright, as if that was part of their plan to promote their image. I remembered it as a place heavy with cigarette smoke, but there didn't seem to be any smoke at all now. In exchange, there were also fewer people around. The small machines had been pushed to the back of the shop, while larger machines that I hadn't seen before were throwing their weight around in the center.

It's been a really long time. I wonder how long it's been since the last time I was here. I've almost never entered the game center on my own. That would mean that the last time I came here, I was most likely with Satoshi. We used to play here often last year..., no, it was two years ago.

I didn't recognize all those games displayed on the monitors. Well, it's understandable for someone who hasn't gone to a game center in two years. As if having entered a strange land, my eyes kept wandering about. With a backward glance at me, Satoshi smoothly advanced to the inner region of the shop, and turned around when he reached a game machine.

"How about this? You remember this, right?"

Satoshi had chosen a game that even I had seen before. To be precise, I used to play it with Satoshi quite often. There were two machines designed to look like cockpits placed next to each other. It was a game that simulated a robot battle. Even after two years, or an even longer period of time, this machine was still here. Satoshi held both his hands wide and raised his voice.

"Spraying shells and shooting beams! This is definitely a man's kind of romance, so I can't invite Mayaka."

"She probably wouldn't join you even if you invited her to some other game. Right, I'll accept your challenge. Although I don't think I can control it well."

"Nah, you'll remember it immediately. Please go easy on me."

With those last words, Satoshi smoothly slid his small figure into the cockpit. Shortly thereafter, I could hear stirring techno music coming from inside the machine.

I placed my shoulder bag outside the machine and removed my trench coat to reduce my weight, and entered the other cockpit. I inserted a 100-yen coin into the slot, and challenged Satoshi to a match. Satoshi's robot was the same as the one he used two years ago, a robot which specialized in mobility and was exceptional in aerial combat. It had a sleek form, a cannon built into its right arm, and a beam cannon protruding out of its body. I also chose a robot that I used in the past, one that followed the Battleship Giant Cannon Principle. It was a bulky machine with a low center of gravity. It held a smooth-bore cannon in its right hand, and had two laser guns on its shoulders.

After the two machines had been displayed on the monitor, the computer automatically selected the stage. It was the deck of a flying aircraft carrier. According to my vague memory, this stage had few obstacles, making it disadvantageous for Satoshi, whose robot was based on evading attacks. Well, that still doesn't make up for my two-year handicap.

"Get ready," a synthesized voice announced. The interface consisted of two joysticks and five buttons. "Go."

Translator's Notes and References

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