In his quarters at the barracks, Eiji stripped out of his armor and hung it on its stand. From his trunk, he removed his hidden bottle of shochu and uncapped it. He lifted it and tilted it back, taking a long draught. It was a cheap bottle, and he frowned at the aftertaste. But it warmed his stomach and loosened his muscles all the same. He walked to his window and pulled it open, letting the sound of the rain fill the small room.
He set the bottle of shochu next to his armor stand and then took a rag, a stiff-bristled brush, and cleaning solution from his trunk. He took another drink from the bottle, this second one going down more easily than the first, and then set to cleaning his armor. He did it slowly and systematically, rubbing the smooth surfaces in methodical, slowly expanding circles. He used the small brush to polish the crevices where the plating was folded back along the trim. After it was clean, he took a bottle of polish and rubbed the entire suit of armor, from the broad smooth chest and back pieces to the intricate detailing of the helmet. He worked every millimeter to a mirror sheen. By the time he was finished, there were but minutes left before he was to meet Yuuhei.
Eiji looked out the window at the rain and, surprising even himself, burst into deep laughter. He kept laughing for several minutes, and when he was finished, he took another swig from the bottle of shochu, and shook his head.
“What the hell am I doing?” he muttered to himself. “I have no idea what to say to her, Kurotou…”
He then set about packing all of his belongings into his traveling bag. Some changes of clothes, a grooming kit, the envelope containing his saved pay, his calligraphy set, two small books of poetry — one modern and one from the pre-Imperial era — and finally the bottle of shochu. There wasn’t much, so it didn’t take very long. When the bag was packed, he took his armor, now dried, from its stand, and loaded it too into its case, together with its cleaning kit.
Eiji picked his sword off its rack, checked to make sure it was locked into its scabbard, and then stuck it sheath-first through the handle of his armor case. He used it to lift the case up, swung it over his shoulder, and with his free hand, he picked up his traveling bag.
“Here we go,” he said, dousing the room’s lamp and stepping through the door. He slid it shut with a click behind him.
Eiji ended up at the bathhouse before Yuuhei. He went in and checked his belongings at the entrance, stopping to remove a clean change of clothes from his bag. The receptionist handed him a towel and a metal claim tag tied to a loop of string. He slipped the loop of string onto his wrist and entered the male section.
The baths were fairly empty. Occasionally the sound of two or three women talking floated over from the female section; on his side of the partition there was just one other man, who was already in the baths – a fellow soldier that Eiji thought he vaguely recognized. But then it could have been anyone.
Eiji undressed. He folded his uniform, put it into a cubby, and set his clean clothes and towel on top of it. He pulled a wooden stool from the stacks and set it in front of one of the shower heads, then took a seat. He turned on the shower, squeezed a little liquid soap into his palms from the dispenser, and began to wash himself.
The cleansing felt more absolute than any he could remember before it. The first shower of his leave. He imagined he was somehow washing the war from his skin, that he was peeling off a layer of his himself that he would not need for a while. The cool water of his final rinse was bracing on his liquor-warmed skin.
When he was clean, he stood, restacked the wooden stool, and stepped into one of the steaming baths. He lowered himself slowly to a seat, sliding further and further down until the water reached his neck. He closed his eyes and drew in a long, slow breath, letting his lungs fill with the fragrant, earthy air. He held the breath in for a few moments and imagined he could feel the swell of oxygen dissipating as it radiated out from his chest and into every part of him. It filled him with a calming kind of strength. He exhaled just as slowly, and opened his eyes. For a time the only sound was that of dripping water, and he savored the intense quiet.
Soon enough he heard Yuuhei enter the bath. He didn’t look over, but he could hear him pulling up a stool, running the shower and then cutting it. After a few minutes, he saw him step into the bath off to his left.
“Kurotou,” said Eiji, nodding to Yuuhei as he sat.
Yuuhei nodded back. “Yo, Eiji.”
They were silent for a moment, each listening to the sound of the dripping water and the murmuring of the women on the other side of the partition.
“It feels different already, doesn’t it?” Yuuhei said.
“Quite,” Eiji couldn’t help but smile.
“I don’t feel like I’m in the same day as when I woke this morning. Or the same city even, for that matter.”
“Already,” Eiji nodded. “It almost doesn’t feel like the same lifetime.”
As their voices evanesced into the cavernous wooden chamber, absorbed into walls and ceiling, soon again the only sound was that of the dripping water. After a few minutes, there was a splashing as the other soldier stood, stepped out of the bath, and walked to the cubbies, where he began to towel off.
“So,” Yuuhei winced, rubbing at his shoulder and rotating his neck. “You aren’t really going to come with me to Roppukyu, are you? I know I said that, but if I have to babysit you on top of everything else, I’m not sure I’ll ever find Eiko.”
Eiji smirked. “I was only coming out of concern over whether you could handle it by yourself.”
Yuuhei laughed, tilting his head further until his neck popped. “You say that like I haven’t already been able to handle myself on the Front.”
“It’s not the Front I’m talking about,” Eiji said. He half-stood to pick a wooden ladle off a hanger on the wall and took a seat again, using the ladle to pour water over his head. “I know you know all about that. I meant that I thought I should stick around for answers and advice, once you got there and realized you didn’t have the first idea what to do with a woman.”
Yuuhei threw his head back and gave a long laugh. He shook his head. “Feeling more certain of yourself now, eh?”
“What the hell,” Eiji said. “If I don’t do it, I’m going to spend the rest of my life thinking that I had all that time and couldn’t even do the one thing I wanted to do most with it.”
“Aah,” Yuuhei nodded. “Good to hear it. I was afraid you would just sit in your quarters and do calligraphy for two weeks straight.”
Eiji shook his head. “It would have been nagging me even if you hadn’t said anything. It just would have seemed hazier, more complex, and it probably would have taken me longer to work up the resolve to really act on it.”
Yuuhei laughed again. “This from a man who’s been in the journals for feats of bravery. Are you sure it isn’t you who needs me to come along for questions and answers?”
“Thanks,” said Eiji, “but I think I’d trust your expertise to get me thrown out of the café or arrested sooner than to find me love.”
Yuuhei shrugged. “You only get one life. Why play it careful, right?”
They laughed.
