Ichiro's travel pass came in the form of a sealed scroll issued by a grizzled old samurai who had once served under Lord Toyotomi but now spent each day performing administrative tasks that did not require the use of weapons, though this did not stop the aged warrior from wearing both a long and short sword in what had to be a show of power.

Now, as he waited in the port for the next ship to arrive, he recalled some of the advice his parents had given the previous evening. Stay below deck at all times, and use the bucket that they provide. Pirate attacks are unlikely, but if one happens, jump off the ship as soon as you can. It's better to drown than to be captured.

As someone who had slipped in a bathtub as a young child and knew how frightening it was to struggle to breathe for even a few seconds, Ichiro didn't want to imagine what a pirate could do to him that might be even worse. He gripped his carrying pole tighter, wondering if it was too late to turn around and head back home, only for the man next to him to point into the distance before shouting. "Look, I think that's our ship!"

Ichiro squinted, and sure enough, he saw a long sengokubune drifting on the horizon. The vessel seemed to increase in speed as it approached until the curved and pointed bow, along with the sheer size of the hull, filled him with astonishment. Of course, he'd always known that transport and cargo ships could be large, but to see one in person was another thing entirely.

He tilted his head to stare up at the billowing white sail, immediately feeling his stomach tighten in discomfort as the chilly morning air numbed his cheeks.

******

By the time he arrived in Osaka at nightfall, Ichiro had eaten some of his mother's onigiri, thrown up twice due to nausea from the ship's rocking, lost his appetite, then fallen asleep from exhaustion before being rudely woken up by a sailor.

Afterward, he'd gathered his belongings and stumbled his way back on to land, mouth dry with thirst and head plagued by a splitting ache. He needed to find somewhere to rest fast, and though finding his uncle's house would have been the cheaper option, the brightly lit ryokan that he discovered outside the harbor area proved too tempting to resist.

He approached the entryway to be greeted by the proprietor, a jovial older man in a striped gray kosode.

"Good evening, young man. Are you traveling alone?"

"Yes, I am."

"Just your luck. We still have one room available for ten mon, if you can afford it."

Accordingly, Ichiro produced a string of coins from his hemp bag and placed ten copper ones in the proprietor's open hand. The proprietor accepted his payment, then called for an attendant to arrive. "Saya, come here! Show this guest to his room!"

"Yes, sir!" A young girl in blue came running over as Ichiro removed his geta and stepped into a clean pair of slippers. She skidded to a stop in front of him and gave a customary bow before straightening her back. "Hello, mister. Let me help you with your luggage..."

He got to work detaching the baskets from his yoke, then passed the latter to her while keeping the former. She took it with surprise but regained her composure when the time came for them to head off.

Ichiro followed her to the floor above and through a short, narrow hallway. Saya showed him a closed shoji near the end. She pulled it open to reveal that a futon had already been spread out for him, with an indigo-colored yukata folded neatly on top. At the far side of the room was a small table with tea utensils arranged next to it.

The charming sight was enough to raise his spirits a little, so he turned to Saya in gratitude. "This is splendid. I shall surely sleep well tonight," he said softly, his voice coming out deeper and more hoarse than usual because of his sore throat.

To his surprise, Saya began to smile like a fool, her gaze falling upon his chest as she returned his carrying pole. "Oh, I wager you will... mister."

Ichiro hoped for the sake of her round face and youthful dimples that she wasn't trying to imply something less than innocent. He set aside his belongings and reached out to grip the edge of the shoji. "Well, I think I should change now..."

He stepped back and shut himself within the room before loosening his rough cotton kosode and letting it slip to the floor. Then, he made his way over to the futon and knelt down to pick up the yukata. It stood out in stark contrast to the shades of brown around him, and as he wrapped it around his body, he couldn't help but sigh at how soft the material felt against his skin.

Once he was finished, he slid the shoji open again to find that Saya hadn't budged at all from her previous position. He swallowed, knowing that such dedication and self-discipline were hard to achieve even for him.

"Thank you for waiting on me. What now?"

"I shall escort you back downstairs. Then, if you wish, you may bathe before dinner."

Ichiro considered the offer while remembering the payment that was necessary to enter a bathhouse. "It won't cost me additional coins, will it?" he asked in uncertainty.

Saya raised a hand to her mouth and giggled. "No, silly. This place is for commoners..."

"That is a relief." Ichiro relaxed his shoulders. "Please, show me the way. The sooner I refresh myself, the better..."

She obliged with a coy smile that made him realize how similar her behavior was to Chiyo's a month earlier. It was an odd phenomenon indeed, given that the two young women had never met, and he prayed for the sake of his sanity that it was nothing more than a coincidence.

******

Historical Notes:

- More formally known as bezaisen, sengokubune were large merchant ships used for coastal transport in feudal Japan before the arrival of Commodore Perry in 1853.

- Ryokan were inns that were common for much of Japanese history, though they tend to be overshadowed by hotels these days.

- Kosode were the commonly worn clothing in Japan from the Kamakura period (1185 - 1333) to Edo period (1603 - 1867). Over time, they evolved into a form resembling the more familiar kimono.