Horitake and Mitsuri soaked in the hot spring, and the night passed without words.
"Without words" doesn't mean nothing happened—quite the opposite. Everything happened, but it can't be said or mentioned.
You get the idea.
Waking up, Mitsuri's first sight was Horitake sleeping beside her.
Blinking away her daze, she gazed at his handsome face, recalling last night. Her face flushed red.
Though shy, she couldn't help but swoon over him.
Horitake-nii… so handsome! I've finally found a great husband. Amazing!
In a mix of infatuation and shyness, Mitsuri playfully poked his nose.
Horitake stirred, waking up.
His first sight was his beloved in his arms—a wonderful feeling.
Seeing Mitsuri's flushed, shy face, a warm, indescribable feeling welled up in him.
This is my woman!
With Mitsuri, Horitake felt more connected to this world.
Before, despite his active role, he'd felt like a fleeting guest. Now, that feeling was fading.
He hugged Mitsuri closer, whispering sweet nothings.
Thankfully, neither was overly sentimental. After some morning cuddling, they got up to face the day.
As they dressed, the old woman's voice came from outside:
"Have our honored guests awakened? Shall I prepare breakfast?"
Horitake replied:
"We're awake. Please prepare breakfast."
After washing up, the old woman had set a meticulous breakfast on the table, thoughtfully arranged.
Horitake sat across from Mitsuri, eyeing the traditional Neon breakfast: rice, miso soup, grilled fish, side dishes…
He'd long grumbled about eating rice so early, but after years, he was used to it.
Glancing at Mitsuri's bowl, he faltered.
Red bean rice.
This…
Horitake felt awkward.
The old woman's intuition was uncanny! How did she know!? Well, maybe their antics last night were too loud.
Recalling briefly, Horitake thought—Mitsuri's eightfold muscle density was no joke. Without his lightning-enhanced body, he might not have…
Anyway, it turned out fine.
It made sense. The noise they made would've been hard to miss, so the old woman preparing red bean rice for Mitsuri was logical.
Horitake smiled, easing Mitsuri's shy embarrassment:
"It's the old woman's kind gesture. Let's eat, Mitsuri. We've only seen half of Kusatsu. We promised to explore it all."
"Okay, Horitake-nii."
With Horitake at ease and Mitsuri flustered, they finished breakfast.
After, they donned yesterday's kimonos and continued exploring.
Freshly a woman, Mitsuri's charm and aura soared, drawing many stares, some wide-eyed.
Luckily, no fools caused trouble, or Horitake would've shown them why flowers are so red!
Today's outing was like before—strolling, eating, enjoying Kusatsu's hot springs, relaxing, and bonding.
They also visited famous Kusatsu attractions.
Like Sainokawara.
In this unique hot spring landscape, green rocks piled high, springs gushed everywhere, shimmering in the sunlight, captivating Mitsuri.
Along the paths were ancient stone tablets, poetic plaques, and a striking red torii gate. Deeper in was Kusatsu's vast Sainokawara open-air bath.
Horitake and Mitsuri passed on the open-air bath—they had their private courtyard spring.
They also watched Yumomi and Yutsubaki.
Yumomi involved stirring scalding hot spring water with long wooden boards to cool it without diluting.
They caught a Yutsubaki performance.
Led by the bath master, women in simple attire lined both sides of the pool, rhythmically stirring the water with boards, singing in unison.
Their stirring followed a pattern—sometimes gentle, sometimes vigorous—causing the water to surge, creating a lively spectacle that enthralled onlookers.
To enhance the experience, the bath master occasionally invited tourists to join.
Mitsuri seemed eager but feared wetting her kimono, so she just watched, engrossed in the songs.
Horitake merely accompanied her.
He couldn't appreciate the dance or songs of Yutsubaki.
Those familiar with Neon culture might know its traditional songs and dances, but their style… was, well, peculiar.
Horitake couldn't find a better word than peculiar.
Despite years in this world, adapting to Neon's etiquette, food, and clothing, its song and dance remained beyond him.
But seeing Mitsuri's enjoyment was enough.
After Yumomi and Yutsubaki, they visited Yudamari Pavilion.
The pavilion itself, built by a hot spring, wasn't remarkable, but the spring was.
Its temperature was so high it steamed.
How high?
High enough to boil eggs in the misty waters.
Yudamari Pavilion's specialty was hot spring eggs.
Unlike typical Neon hot spring eggs, these were genuinely half-cooked in the springs.
Staff suspended bamboo baskets filled with eggs from poles over the spring, cooking them to a perfect half-done state before distributing them to tourists.
Most got an egg; the unlucky waited for the next batch.
Mitsuri delicately peeled her egg, carefully sipping the half-set contents, cheeks flushed with joy:
"Delicious…"
Horitake, unimpressed, thought it was just a regular hot spring egg.
He'd grown used to Neon cuisine, even raw eggs, so a hot spring egg wasn't special.
But Mitsuri, beaming, asked:
"Horitake-nii, it's good, right?"
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That chapter ended on a bit of a cliff, didn't it? 😅 Don't worry, the next one's already on Patreon! [If you'd like to support my work, check out my: patreon.com/DaoistRoeoNQ]