It was told that the hot springs were supposed to be a place of near-magical healing powers where the blistering water and steam could wash away more than just the grit and grime of everyday life; they could also cleans your soul. Jo hoped that, for his sake, the tales were true. He’d never been to the hot springs before, despite having lived in Kumo all his life. The trip through the forest to their location was alien, giving him some cause to worry; but the path was well lit, and he was within the walls of his village, giving him leave to ignore his instincts to be on constant guard and allowing himself to simply relax and enjoy the quiet stroll.
The hour was late. From the position of the moon and the stars, Jo surmised it was about 2230 hours. It would’ve taken him less than a second and even less effort to look at his watch and discover that it was actually 10:32pm, but he enjoyed being able to tell time by the position of the sun and moon; and so, the timepiece stayed in the pocket of his tan suede jacket, its chain clipped to one of the belt loops on his jeans. The nights were getting cooler by the day, and the leaves were beginning to change colors, causing him to zip his jacket over whatever t-shirt he was wearing (usually black), and conceal his hands in its pockets. One thing was certain; winter was coming. Up in the mountains of Lightning Country, that meant several dark months of biting winds and driving snows that buried the village in a silent blanket of white. Spring came late, autumn ended early, and summer was only a fleeting memory of warmth and comfort.
Jo pulled out his watch anyway. It was a small thing, about an inch in diameter and a quarter as thick. The old man that ran the clock shop near his apartment had scoffed at such a young man owning a pocket watch, but Jo bought it anyway. In some ways, he was older than the shopkeeper; silver-grey hair, whiskers and all. Jo wondered what he would look like when he became that old. As of now his hair was the color of chocolate, and his facial hair grew in slowly, but evenly across his visage and down his neck, requiring daily shaving. Then he remembered that he was a shinobi, and his life expectancy was nowhere near that of the old watchmaker.
He ran his thumb over the unadorned brass casing that covered the timepiece, the metal warm to his touch after being so long in his pocket. He depressed the latch that released the spring-loaded door, revealing the simple beauty that lay within. The watch had a clear crystal face, the roman numerals hour markers engraved into its delicate surface and inlaid with polished brass. It wasn’t the numbers Jo was interested in at the moment, more the contents of the small gizmo that could be seen through its clear face. Innumerable gears of various sizes twisted and turned powered by the tightly wound spring in the center. Miniscule ruby bearings keeping their motion crisp and precise as the pieces turned the hour, minute and second hands in perfect time. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the beautiful complexity of it. Wheels within wheels.
The light from the streetlamp he was passing under illuminated the surface of the watch, causing the face to reflect the inside of the cover, and the second reason he’d bought the watch. Rather than bearing small tabs by which a picture could be held, the inside of the watch cover was polished and engraved; ”Time is still the infinite jest…” Jo found the words profound, laughing out loud when he first read them. When the watchmaker inquired as to what had tickled him so, he simply replied ’The piece mocks its own existence.’ It was an irony he could appreciate, as he should. It had cost him an arm and a leg to own a clock that mocks tic-tocks.
With a crisp “snap” he closed the timepiece and pocketed it; and not a moment too soon. Had he walked a few more feet with his face buried in his watch, he would’ve tripped over the bottom step of the springs. The building was large and ornate in a traditional sort of way, and emanated the feel of a tourist attraction that had been there so long that it had become a welcome part of the community rather than a hated eyesore. Climbing the steps slowly, Jo entered through the large double doors. The warm air within blasted in his face, the sudden switch in temperature making his cheeks burn and his eyes water. The inside was the same as the out; a well-worn touristy kind of elegance that saw enough use to feel homey.
”Good evening! How can we be of service?” Asked the cute young receptionist behind the counter in a voice so sweet Jo felt the sudden need to brush his teeth to ward off cavities.
”Good evening; I’ve never been a patron here before, but I hear the hot springs are great for healing the body and the mind; so I figured I’d come in and try them out.” Jo replied politely, not the least bit ashamed of his inexperience.
”Well, welcome then! I hope you enjoy your first time here with us! All the other shinobi who come in say it’s great for relieving sore muscles after long days of training; and nothing is quite as relaxing as a good scrub and a long, hot soak!”</B><i></i> For a second, Jo was confused as to how she knew he was a ninja, then he remembered the forehead protector tied around his head. He’d been wearing it for long enough now that he forgot it was even there except when he put it on in the morning and took it off at night. ”We offer many services; everything from a simple soak in the springs, to a full body massage, and a full spa! We also have a five star restaurant and a full bar in the back, and drinks can be delivered to you in the springs!” She said, motioning to the price board behind her.
”I think I’ll just have a shower and a soak.” The prices weren’t too steep, but a good long soak was all he really needed. Besides; he still had to buy groceries, and the watch had taken out a chunk of his savings.
”Great! The men’s’ locker room and showers are down that hall, and the exit to the hot springs are clearly labeled!”<i></i> She pointed to his right. As she tallied up his total (minus a generous military-service discount) she recited the rules of the springs from memory. ”Obviously, there are no men allowed in the women’s locker room, showers, or hot spring area, and vice versa. There’s no full nudity in the coed area; towels are provided if you didn’t bring a bathing suit. Last but not least; any inappropriate behavior will result in removal from the property with the risk of being permanently banned depending on the severity of the actions. Any questions?”
”No, ma’am.”
<B>”Great! Enjoy your stay! Remember, we close at 2:00am on the dot; regardless of whether or not you’re dried off and dressed!”<i></i> She giggled at her own joke. Jo hoped they’d never had to throw anyone into the street soaking wet and naked just to prove they weren’t kidding.
Jo entered the empty locker room and stripped off his clothes, folding them neatly and placing them in his assigned locker before heading to the showers. There was no one around, but even if there had been, he wouldn’t have cared if anyone saw him naked; especially other guys. His years surviving all the bullshit the Academy could throw at him with classmates of both genders had washed away his modesty when it came to his body and its functions. More than once he’d had to bathe, change clothes, and relieve himself in the presence of male and female classmates and senseis. There was no privacy or false modesty among soldiers. Besides, he had nothing to be ashamed of. His years of intense physical training had carved a lean muscular physique out of the slightly chubby boy he had once been; though his barrel chest and broad shoulders made him seem more hefty that he was when he was wearing clothes. Not to mention his other physical assets. He was a healthy, growing teenage boy after all.
He roughly scrubbed himself down in the solitude of the men’s showers; only slowing and gentling his assault on the oil and dirt that came with the job description of being both a teenager and a shinobi when he encountered the new scar that ran horizontally along his right hip. The memento from his last mission had finally started to heal after his trip to the hospital, though it turned out a little different from what he expected. The puffy purple scar tissue that covered the wound was raw and sore to the touch, having just recently closed enough for him to remove his bandages without fear of springing another crimson leak. He gently dabbed the area clean with a washcloth last, rinsing himself thoroughly before wrapping a white, knee-length towel around his waist and entering the coed portion of the hot springs.
The cool night air had the steam rising thick from the surface of the pools, the moonlight and lamplight giving the water and mist a bright silver sheen that was completely mesmerizing. There was a large pool near the front with adjacent smaller pools around it. On the other side of the large pool was several smaller ones, each one labeled as getting hotter the farther away from the main pool you went. Jo chose a pool way in the back, second-to-last from the hottest pool that was labeled with a caution sign and a legal waiver for any injuries sustained from its contents. He slowly eased himself into the steaming hot water, the sudden change of temperature from the cool night air to the nearly blistering heat melting away his goose bumps. The water was almost too hot for him to handle, but only really caused him pain when it met the new flesh on his hip. He stopped then, letting the heat and pain numb the cut before slowly sinking in up to his neck. There was only one thing left to do. He took a deep breath and plunged his head under the water, completely submerged. He held his breath for as long as he could, the heat making his head swim. Then, like a breaching whale, he exploded from the water, gasping in the sweet, cool air and slicking his wet hair back out of his face. Leaning back against the rock wall of the pool, Jo allowed himself to sit on the submerged ledge and relax.
For a few long minutes he just stared at the water, allowing his mind to empty itself and become a calm white noise. It wasn’t meant to be. Just as they always did when he let his guard down, the faces of the men he’d killed in the Capitol a couple of weeks ago flooded to the forefront of his mind. All of a sudden, the spring water was hot blood; its redness filling Jo’s vision and cascading in rivulets down his arms as he lifted his hands from the water.
Then, in a blink of an eye, the visions left him just as swiftly as they came. Jo’s breath was ragged and it took a couple of minutes for him to bring it back under his control. He sighed then, a great, deep, heaving sigh, and leaned his head back against the stone; squeezing his eyes shut and praying that Raiden would give a poor young soldier some peace.
The hour was late. From the position of the moon and the stars, Jo surmised it was about 2230 hours. It would’ve taken him less than a second and even less effort to look at his watch and discover that it was actually 10:32pm, but he enjoyed being able to tell time by the position of the sun and moon; and so, the timepiece stayed in the pocket of his tan suede jacket, its chain clipped to one of the belt loops on his jeans. The nights were getting cooler by the day, and the leaves were beginning to change colors, causing him to zip his jacket over whatever t-shirt he was wearing (usually black), and conceal his hands in its pockets. One thing was certain; winter was coming. Up in the mountains of Lightning Country, that meant several dark months of biting winds and driving snows that buried the village in a silent blanket of white. Spring came late, autumn ended early, and summer was only a fleeting memory of warmth and comfort.
Jo pulled out his watch anyway. It was a small thing, about an inch in diameter and a quarter as thick. The old man that ran the clock shop near his apartment had scoffed at such a young man owning a pocket watch, but Jo bought it anyway. In some ways, he was older than the shopkeeper; silver-grey hair, whiskers and all. Jo wondered what he would look like when he became that old. As of now his hair was the color of chocolate, and his facial hair grew in slowly, but evenly across his visage and down his neck, requiring daily shaving. Then he remembered that he was a shinobi, and his life expectancy was nowhere near that of the old watchmaker.
He ran his thumb over the unadorned brass casing that covered the timepiece, the metal warm to his touch after being so long in his pocket. He depressed the latch that released the spring-loaded door, revealing the simple beauty that lay within. The watch had a clear crystal face, the roman numerals hour markers engraved into its delicate surface and inlaid with polished brass. It wasn’t the numbers Jo was interested in at the moment, more the contents of the small gizmo that could be seen through its clear face. Innumerable gears of various sizes twisted and turned powered by the tightly wound spring in the center. Miniscule ruby bearings keeping their motion crisp and precise as the pieces turned the hour, minute and second hands in perfect time. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the beautiful complexity of it. Wheels within wheels.
The light from the streetlamp he was passing under illuminated the surface of the watch, causing the face to reflect the inside of the cover, and the second reason he’d bought the watch. Rather than bearing small tabs by which a picture could be held, the inside of the watch cover was polished and engraved; ”Time is still the infinite jest…” Jo found the words profound, laughing out loud when he first read them. When the watchmaker inquired as to what had tickled him so, he simply replied ’The piece mocks its own existence.’ It was an irony he could appreciate, as he should. It had cost him an arm and a leg to own a clock that mocks tic-tocks.
With a crisp “snap” he closed the timepiece and pocketed it; and not a moment too soon. Had he walked a few more feet with his face buried in his watch, he would’ve tripped over the bottom step of the springs. The building was large and ornate in a traditional sort of way, and emanated the feel of a tourist attraction that had been there so long that it had become a welcome part of the community rather than a hated eyesore. Climbing the steps slowly, Jo entered through the large double doors. The warm air within blasted in his face, the sudden switch in temperature making his cheeks burn and his eyes water. The inside was the same as the out; a well-worn touristy kind of elegance that saw enough use to feel homey.
”Good evening! How can we be of service?” Asked the cute young receptionist behind the counter in a voice so sweet Jo felt the sudden need to brush his teeth to ward off cavities.
”Good evening; I’ve never been a patron here before, but I hear the hot springs are great for healing the body and the mind; so I figured I’d come in and try them out.” Jo replied politely, not the least bit ashamed of his inexperience.
”Well, welcome then! I hope you enjoy your first time here with us! All the other shinobi who come in say it’s great for relieving sore muscles after long days of training; and nothing is quite as relaxing as a good scrub and a long, hot soak!”</B><i></i> For a second, Jo was confused as to how she knew he was a ninja, then he remembered the forehead protector tied around his head. He’d been wearing it for long enough now that he forgot it was even there except when he put it on in the morning and took it off at night. ”We offer many services; everything from a simple soak in the springs, to a full body massage, and a full spa! We also have a five star restaurant and a full bar in the back, and drinks can be delivered to you in the springs!” She said, motioning to the price board behind her.
”I think I’ll just have a shower and a soak.” The prices weren’t too steep, but a good long soak was all he really needed. Besides; he still had to buy groceries, and the watch had taken out a chunk of his savings.
”Great! The men’s’ locker room and showers are down that hall, and the exit to the hot springs are clearly labeled!”<i></i> She pointed to his right. As she tallied up his total (minus a generous military-service discount) she recited the rules of the springs from memory. ”Obviously, there are no men allowed in the women’s locker room, showers, or hot spring area, and vice versa. There’s no full nudity in the coed area; towels are provided if you didn’t bring a bathing suit. Last but not least; any inappropriate behavior will result in removal from the property with the risk of being permanently banned depending on the severity of the actions. Any questions?”
”No, ma’am.”
<B>”Great! Enjoy your stay! Remember, we close at 2:00am on the dot; regardless of whether or not you’re dried off and dressed!”<i></i> She giggled at her own joke. Jo hoped they’d never had to throw anyone into the street soaking wet and naked just to prove they weren’t kidding.
Jo entered the empty locker room and stripped off his clothes, folding them neatly and placing them in his assigned locker before heading to the showers. There was no one around, but even if there had been, he wouldn’t have cared if anyone saw him naked; especially other guys. His years surviving all the bullshit the Academy could throw at him with classmates of both genders had washed away his modesty when it came to his body and its functions. More than once he’d had to bathe, change clothes, and relieve himself in the presence of male and female classmates and senseis. There was no privacy or false modesty among soldiers. Besides, he had nothing to be ashamed of. His years of intense physical training had carved a lean muscular physique out of the slightly chubby boy he had once been; though his barrel chest and broad shoulders made him seem more hefty that he was when he was wearing clothes. Not to mention his other physical assets. He was a healthy, growing teenage boy after all.
He roughly scrubbed himself down in the solitude of the men’s showers; only slowing and gentling his assault on the oil and dirt that came with the job description of being both a teenager and a shinobi when he encountered the new scar that ran horizontally along his right hip. The memento from his last mission had finally started to heal after his trip to the hospital, though it turned out a little different from what he expected. The puffy purple scar tissue that covered the wound was raw and sore to the touch, having just recently closed enough for him to remove his bandages without fear of springing another crimson leak. He gently dabbed the area clean with a washcloth last, rinsing himself thoroughly before wrapping a white, knee-length towel around his waist and entering the coed portion of the hot springs.
The cool night air had the steam rising thick from the surface of the pools, the moonlight and lamplight giving the water and mist a bright silver sheen that was completely mesmerizing. There was a large pool near the front with adjacent smaller pools around it. On the other side of the large pool was several smaller ones, each one labeled as getting hotter the farther away from the main pool you went. Jo chose a pool way in the back, second-to-last from the hottest pool that was labeled with a caution sign and a legal waiver for any injuries sustained from its contents. He slowly eased himself into the steaming hot water, the sudden change of temperature from the cool night air to the nearly blistering heat melting away his goose bumps. The water was almost too hot for him to handle, but only really caused him pain when it met the new flesh on his hip. He stopped then, letting the heat and pain numb the cut before slowly sinking in up to his neck. There was only one thing left to do. He took a deep breath and plunged his head under the water, completely submerged. He held his breath for as long as he could, the heat making his head swim. Then, like a breaching whale, he exploded from the water, gasping in the sweet, cool air and slicking his wet hair back out of his face. Leaning back against the rock wall of the pool, Jo allowed himself to sit on the submerged ledge and relax.
For a few long minutes he just stared at the water, allowing his mind to empty itself and become a calm white noise. It wasn’t meant to be. Just as they always did when he let his guard down, the faces of the men he’d killed in the Capitol a couple of weeks ago flooded to the forefront of his mind. All of a sudden, the spring water was hot blood; its redness filling Jo’s vision and cascading in rivulets down his arms as he lifted his hands from the water.
Then, in a blink of an eye, the visions left him just as swiftly as they came. Jo’s breath was ragged and it took a couple of minutes for him to bring it back under his control. He sighed then, a great, deep, heaving sigh, and leaned his head back against the stone; squeezing his eyes shut and praying that Raiden would give a poor young soldier some peace.
