Reunited – Chapter 15

The next day is rough for Kentaro. He spends the entire morning green and unhappy.

“Why’d he drink so much last night?” I whisper to Jiro at breakfast as Kentaro heads to the bathroom.

“I have no idea. Something’s up with him. He was quiet most of the night. He didn’t do anything embarrassing, just kept drinking.” Jiro shakes his head, and I return to my bowl of rice when Kentaro comes back. From the corner of my eye, I watch him. He sulks over his bowl, picks at individual grains with his chopsticks, and breathes deep, swallowing to keep the nausea away. When he thinks I’m not watching, his eyes laser in on Jiro’s hand over mine at the table. I wonder…

Sakai lays out our plans for the day. Mariko, Beni, and I will check out the local merchants with Usagi. Sakai, Jiro, and Oyama will all head towards the sea to the produce and fish markets. We’ll meet up at the ryokan in the afternoon for naps or rest before dinner.

Kentaro flops back on the tatami mat and groans while everyone gets ready to go.

“Kentaro,” I whisper, sitting seiza at his side and poking him in the ribs. “This is a massive hangover. You’re going to be drunk for days.”

“Ha. Funny. Leave me alone.”

“Ah. A bitter hangover.” I go to the closet where all of the futons and pillows are stored, grab a blanket and pillow, and bring them back for Kentaro. I have no doubt that he’s going to pass out on the tatami, and if he wakes up uncomfortable, he’ll only be surly. “Here.” I drop the blanket and pillow next to him. “Sleep it off.”

“Yes, boss.”

The local merchants between our ryokan and the center of town are happy to see us when we walk in the door. After hearing about the segregation from Kohaku, I was worried we would have trouble here, but so far, everyone is bright and amenable. Jiro told me not to buy too much, to save our money for emergencies, but I’m on a mission to find a few things lacking in Yamato.

We pass by a dry goods store, and I veer in, grabbing Beni who was on her way into a shoe shop next door. Hundreds of barrels crowd the expansive shop filled with dried beans, fruits, candy, fish… the list is endless. I grab a handful of paper bags and a pencil and select items to bring back home: little sweet and sugary candies for Aunt Kimie and Lomo, rice crackers for Miko, dried fish for Oyama (he’ll know what to do with them), dried fruit for Jiro and me, a stack of white rice paper for Jiro…

And then I smell it. A smell so luxurious, so robust, my mouth starts to water. Way at the back of the store are barrels of coffee.

I shuffle, entranced and wide-eyed, towards the beans, and the man attending to the barrels softens and asks me what I’m looking for. I feign shyness to cover up my awkward impersonation of their dialect and ask for a strong roast with an oily bean, just the way Lucy and I like it. He swiftly picks out two different beans and explains that this store has a deal with farmers in the mountains to the north which is the only place coffee grows. Their coffee is exclusively roasted here.

He offers to grind the beans for me, but I wave him off and explain we have our own grinder at home. Locking eyes with me for a moment, I blush and bow to cover my differences. The alienness of my rounded eyes and freckles stand out.

While Beni slips into the shoe store next door, I take up position outside in the shadows on this sunny and warm day to watch people walking past. Almost everyone dresses in kimonos or casual shirts and pants. A few business men down the street wear suits like Maeda, but they are a rarity. Still, this must mean there are tailors here and factories for making fine cloth on the continent.

Many of the men walking by wear wedding bands, simple metal rings on their left ring finger. No women wear gems, but several have simple bands as well. Maybe gems are hard to come by, and metal is precious like it was on Earth. But many men carry swords. I have to believe most of the katana are made here on Yūsei, not heirlooms from Earth. Metal can’t be that precious. It must be relegated to swords first, jewelry second.

“Are you all done, Sanaa?” Usagi steps up next to me and takes the bag of goods from my hands. “You look tired.”

“Yes and ready for lunch. Come across the street with me?”

We stop at the window of a jewelry shop. Earrings, rings, necklaces, bracelets, pins, brooches, and hairpins are on display. In the corner of the window is a small sign that reads, “Stop the Heian Initiative.” I point to it, and Usagi’s eyes scan the words before he nods his head.

All the women working in the shop light up and chime, “Welcome!” as we enter. They might think we’re a couple, so I smile and bow before slipping my arm through Usagi’s. He smirks at me before laughing, and we revert back to speaking Japanese.

“I think Helena could use a little gift for all the hard work she’s been doing lately.”

Usagi nods and smiles. “She doesn’t wear her jewelry anymore because she can’t manage the clasps.”

“What about a bracelet?” I’m immediately drawn to a set of wooden bangle bracelets. They’re smooth and thin, and they stack beautifully. “Oooh, real wood.” I press them between my hands and close my eyes. The organic, wooden rings radiate warmth back into my palms. “Yes, these. And they’ll be easy to take on or off.”

We meet up with Beni and Mariko on the street. The morning clouds are starting to clear, and I’ll need to go inside soon. I can’t handle the blue sky when I’m tired and aching.

“I’m so picky about shoes. It’ll be ages before I find something I like here.” Beni pouts and looks down at her shoes. We all wore our functional walking shoes. They didn’t look that different from what the Watanabes own.

After a soba noodle soup lunch, we make our way back to the ryokan via another avenue. Mariko runs into a convenience store and purchases snacks for later when we’re forced to stay in for the evening.

A block away is a saké brewer. Two large brown balls of cedar, sugidama, hang outside with tags indicating a new brew is available. The sugidama sway in a strong breeze that whips down the street, and I wrap my haori coat tighter to keep the chill out.

I enter into the shop behind Usagi and survey my options among the fifty different varieties of saké and shochu lining shelves two feet deep. I could spend hours in a store like this. I wonder if they have tastings.

“Oi!” An old man totters out of the back room and waves his hand at us. “No women allowed!”

What? No! I turn to the door and see the sign that I walked straight past. “But?” I gesture at Usagi. I’m here with a man. Isn’t that good enough?

“No. He can stay. You must go.”

This is ridiculous. How can these people do business turning away half the population? If they were smart, they would understand most women, even in Nishikyō, do all the shopping for the household.

I pull Usagi down so I can whisper in his ear. “Don’t buy the good stuff. Anyone who turns away my business will not profit from me.”

“Okay,” he says with a small smile.

I narrow my eyes at the shop owner, turn on my heel, and stalk out.