The following day, Col awoke before dawn. It was the time of night when the moon still shone brightly and the mountain air was at its coldest.
Those around him often praised him for being a hard worker who did not mind waking up early, but the truth was, he was sleepy. To him, it was all for show. As he mentally reviewed the list of duties he had to do today at the bathhouse, he realized something odd.
Outside, he could hear voices and footsteps on gravel.
And above him was an unfamiliar ceiling, and he was in a different bed.
“…Ah.”
He remembered that he had left on a journey.
Then, when he moved to get up, he realized there was another person in the bed. It was Myuri, who only behaved when she was asleep. He had put her to sleep in the other bed, so she must have switched during the night.
It was hot under the covers, thanks to her body heat and fluffy tail.
They had argued over this and that last night, and the reason Myuri wanted to travel was most likely because she was bored of the village. Though she worried about him with some reluctance, the worry itself was real.
Her silver hair looked strangely dewy even though it was not wet or oiled. If he ran his hands through it, the strands would slip through his fingers. Holo was proud of the beautiful lay of the fur on her tail, but Myuri’s pride came from this color that she inherited from her father.
As he stroked her head, her animal ears twitched. But there was no sign of her waking. She probably would not wake up if he shook her shoulders. He smiled slightly and got out from under the blanket.
He opened the window, and it was cold enough outside to freeze his breath, though there was no wind or snow.
There were already people moving about in the square, which had been busy late into the night, and the riverbeds beyond it. They were probably heading out to catch the morning markets in the watershed towns.
He closed the shutters, put on his coat, took his scripture in hand, and went down to the first floor. The ice in the back well had already been broken, so he scooped up some water into a tub and washed his face and brushed his teeth with the smashed end of a tree branch, then did his daily recitation of the scripture. Other guests came to wash their faces as he did so, and they took advantage of the situation by bowing their heads to his recitation, taking it as protection for the road. It was like catching rain in a tub, but he did not dislike the frank practicality of the merchants.
The problem was that even though he did his recitations for longer than usual, the sun still had not risen, and he had no work to do afterward. He grew bored, and that troubled him slightly.
In the end, since it would also be a waste to do nothing, he headed to the riverside and helped with the loading and unloading of cargo. When the sky began to lighten, he returned to the room.
“You work too much, brother…”
He finally managed to wake Myuri, who could sleep through any disturbance, and when he recounted all he had done so far, she fussed about his excessive zeal.
Though she sat up straight, her eyes would not open because of how tired she was. She hugged her tail for warmth and yawned loudly.
“This is what it means to travel with me. Are you giving up?”
Her ears stood up straight as she struggled to open her eyes.
“N-no fair!”
“It is fair. All right, put your ears and tail away and wash your face. Get ready quickly or I’ll leave you behind.”
“Sheesh!”
She puffed up her cheeks and tail, then retrieved a handkerchief and other things from her bag. Upon closer inspection, there were two combs and three brushes. He could not see what she needed so many for. As he pondered questions more difficult than those of theology, Myuri left the room with an odd parting comment.
“I’m going to groom my hair in the baths.”
When he turned toward her, the door had already closed.
Then, before long, she came running back in.
“B-Brother, where are the baths?!”
“The baths?”
“Th-there’s nothing but a well, and…and when I looked inside, th-there was ice in it…I can’t wash my hair without the baths!”
Myuri was half in tears, and like a priest hearing a profound complaint, Col lifted his head. After that, he nodded slowly as if he deeply agreed.
Hot spring water bubbled up everywhere in Nyohhira, to the point that it was disposable. Myuri was born and raised there. There were many stories of noble girls who left their manors for the first time and discovered how blessed they had been, but he did not imagine such a tale would play out before his eyes.
It would be a lie to say he did not gain a slightest sadistic enjoyment from it.
“There are no baths here. This isn’t Nyohhira.”
“Oh…”
“Is this too hard? If it is, then you can…”
“I won’t quit! I won’t!”
Myuri declared her intentions and, with wide strides, stomped back out into the hallway.
It was a strength of hers that she was not easily discouraged, at least.
The hair care that the dancer Helen told Myuri about consisted of the following: After combing the hair out, go over it carefully with a long-haired brush and a short-haired brush, both made from the mane of a horse, and then a brush made of pig’s hair. Col thought it odd that so much brushing did not instead damage the hair, but at any rate, it was practically self-harm for Myuri to wash her hair while it was so cold out.
When she returned to the room, her lips were blue, and she was shivering.
“…Honestly.”
He removed his overcoat and covered her with it.
“And while you were performing ablutions outside, a letter came.”
Out of some respect, he used the term “ablutions” for her willpower to wash her hair in ice water simply for appearances’ sake. He, of course, also meant it sarcastically, so she eyed him spitefully.
“Wh-wh…what…achoo! L-letter?”
“It seems to have come by boat from Nyohhira.”
It apparently could not reach them the night before, so it spent the night at a checkpoint farther upstream and came on the first vessel out that morning. A considerable amount of money had been paid for its delivery, so the captain who brought it mistook the missive for an important, confidential letter of a noble.
“It’s from Lawrence…and Holo.”
He opened the letter, read the inside, and could not help a wry smile. Myuri, curled up inside the coat that was clearly much too big for her, tilted her head like a kitten. Col handed the letter to her, and she made an unreadable smile. Though it had taken extraordinary effort to teach her, she was able to read to a certain extent as a result.
In the letter, there were countless spelling mistakes to show that Lawrence was panicking as he asked about Myuri’s safety, stating that he would go get her as soon as possible, but a large X had been mercilessly drawn over it.
Then, something else was written in the margin with unique handwriting.
“‘T-take care of,’ Broth…Achoo!”
“It says, ‘Take care of Myuri,’” he responded with a sigh, and Myuri returned the letter, sniffling and teeth chattering. “I was slightly hoping they would stop you.”
Holo had brushed aside Lawrence’s opinions, though he was the head of the household. This family would certainly be one of strong women.
“Spare the rod and spoil the ch…Hachoo!”
He looked at Myuri, and after she sniffled, a wide grin that displayed her canines appeared on her face.
“I’m the one who should be spared.”
Myuri was about to protest when she sneezed loudly again.
After writing a response to Lawrence and Holo, they ate the previous night’s leftovers as breakfast. They left a letter with the innkeeper, finished their preparations, and headed to the riverside. A fire was still blazing there, so Myuri dried her damp hair. Passing boatmen smiled at the sight, thinking she had fallen into the well.
They bargained around to find a vessel to take them to Atiph, and eventually they struck a deal to travel on a boat loaded with firewood, chickens, and other cargo for scheduled deliveries to towns along the way. It had little space for carrying passengers, which the captain treated as a side job, so it was nowhere near a comfortable ride.
But the sun finally rose and warmed their bodies, and Myuri, who had been preening herself like a little bird beside him, was napping, perhaps out of boredom. It was pleasant.
He could imagine what was happening in the bathhouse right about now and who was doing what. Perhaps this was what it meant for Col to leave the life he had led for more than ten years. And though he had promised Myuri he would come back in order to soothe her, there was also a good possibility that he would not. Lawrence and Holo had sent him off understanding that. He could only be thankful to have met such good people.
As he sat consumed with his thoughts, the boat sailed downstream. The current was gentle, and the river was wide. This journey of two, which had happened so completely against his will, ended its second day without event, and the third day was the same.
Myuri also wanted to wash her hair on the morning of the third day, but she had learned her lesson to some extent and came up with the idea of first boiling water in the inn’s kitchen. However, she also made the shocking discovery that she would need money for fuel and coal. Maybe she had never imagined that it cost money to have hot water.
In the end, she washed her hair in a half-frozen well, but this time she adjusted her approach and finished with minimal shivering. He was looking forward to seeing what she would try next time.
Before long, the stones on the riverbed grew fewer in number, and the grassland views became more frequent. Gently sloping plains stretched out all the way to the mountains that were faintly visible in the distance. It seemed they had reached the Dolan Plains. Col became drowsy watching the scenery, but it was terribly exciting for Myuri, who had grown up high in the mountains. She excitedly stared at the view and waved to the travelers walking along the riverside roads.
Then finally, beyond the sloping plains, the town of Atiph came into view atop a small hill, along with its famous checkpoint.
“…!!”
It was difficult just to keep Myuri from suddenly standing up in the boat, so Col was worried that her ears and tail might come out. She gave a wordless cry in enthusiasm, and he had trouble gently prying off her tight grip on his arm.
“Brother! The town! So big! The river! It’s true! The chain!”
It was like she forgot how to form full sentences in her excitement.
But he was genuinely surprised to see the very thing their other captain had described, looming over them with more presence than he had imagined. It was not the kind of chain that was used to keep vaults closed—each link was big enough that Myuri could fit her arm through it. Each joint was lined up neatly and the chain hung above the pair.
“C-captain! Are you sure it won’t fall?” Myuri asked, having regained some composure, and the captain, with sloping shoulders and a mustache under his nose, spoke without a smile.