KENJI SATO
These are not real. Four words, no question mark. Sato holds a shoe in each gloved hand and can tell which one is the rep before you can.
Kenji Sato does not ask questions. He holds a shoe in each gloved hand, tilts his head a few degrees, and says what he sees. "These are not real." It is not an accusation. It is a measurement.
Tokyo is a collector's city, and Sato is a collector's officer. He knows the original of almost everything that comes through the hall, and he minds fakes the way a musician minds a wrong note: it bothers him before he can explain why. Rep sneakers are his subject. The toe is a little long. The sole is the wrong white. He does not need the magnifier Whitcombe carries. He has the real pair at home.
Haneda runs a normal line, and Sato has no interest in cards or denim. Bring him watches and he will note them, because Tokyo pays for them and he knows it, but they are not his subject.
He is quiet, neat, and fair. He will find the fakes and say so in four words. Then he will stamp whatever the form says he should.