Kokichi Mikimoto successfully cultivated the world’s first cultured pearl in 1893, at the end of the 19th century. The cultured pearls he “invented” quickly became known throughout the world but faced unexpected resistance.

“Cultured pearls are only imitations made to resemble natural pearls,” it was claimed, which resulted in a lawsuit lasting three years in the early 20th century, known as the “Paris Pearl Trial.” However, the legal battle ultimately worked in favor of cultured pearls, as the court ruled that “cultured pearls are no different from natural pearls,” thus proving their legitimacy.

Rita had of course meticulously researched the background and history of pearl cultivation, but there was something even a skilled curator could not figure out: how are cultured pearls actually made?

Convinced that her upcoming exhibition would not be feasible without a full understanding of pearls, she turned to me to assist with the research.

It was about six months ago that Rita approached me with the unexpected proposal. She asked if I would join as an assistant researcher for the exhibition, to lend her my sense of style and interviewing skills.

Over all the years we had known each other, this was the first time she had ever asked me to help with her own project. There was no reason to refuse, so I took the job without a moment’s hesitation.

Straight after, I was asked to investigate Japanese cultured pearls. An email came in with a list of research assignments, and one of them was “To accompany interviews in Toba and Ise-Shima.” I knew instantly the two things Rita was after.

One was to see for herself the birthplace of Japanese cultured pearls. The other was to reunite with our old friend who had become an ama diver in that very place. When I messaged her, “Right?” she replied with just one word: “BINGO!”

I contacted Aomi right away. True to form, our good friend immediately understood what Rita wanted and began making the necessary arrangements. She explained about our situation to Haruko, a senior ama diver, who promised to introduce us to some very special people for our research.

“Honestly, Aomi, you are…” Rita rolled her blue eyes and sighed, “truly the best. Then and now.”

Our gathering with the ladies of the sea turned into an unexpectedly lively girls’ night. Haruko took out various delicacies from her cooler — abalone, rock oysters, and even Japanese spiny lobsters she had reserved at the market — drawing grasps of delight from us. Nagisa and Misaki grilled them over the charcoal stove while also busily pouring beer and opening bottles of sake, doing their utmost to entertain us.

The abalone and oysters sizzled over the crackling charcoal fire, as the delicious aroma of the sea filled the entire room. Meanwhile, Rita slurped up the grilled oyster juices pooled in the shell, repeatedly exclaiming, “This is absolutely amazing!”

“Now listen, I just adore shellfish — abalone, oysters, akoya pearl oysters — they’re all so lovely. Shellfish, you see, are gifts from the sea,” Haruko said, her eyes soft with a faint, tipsy warmth. “Shellfish are part of our lives.”

“Oh, Mom, that’s an exaggeration,” Nagisa laughed. Then she added, “They’re not part of our lives. They are our whole lives.”
Misaki shrugged her shoulders. Aomi and I looked at each other and smiled.
Rita whispered to the two of us: “What did she say? Hey, what did she say?”

Outside the window, a perfectly round moon floated in the clear night sky.
The moonlit sea lay vast and calm, carrying the soft sound of gentle waves to the window.