This came to me while I was visiting family this summer. Should be a two-part story I believe.
I hope everyone is having a wonderful summer and that you enjoy this story.
The summer air is warm, warmer than anticipated for Rilla she finds out as she fans herself. It was September and Leslie had told her she would love autumn in Japan. True the colours were breathtaking in all their gold and reds, but still, she felt homesick on her honeymoon of all things to be homesick on! Maybe because she didn't know where home was anymore, or maybe it was because she was married and she longed for the comfort of her mother's arms. Not the constant fluttering that hasn't stopped since the first night as a wife. Not that Ken wasn't a good substitute, but was there ever a substitute for a mother's hug?
Her husband,—Ken had gone out to order dinner for them, still knowing enough Japanese to do simple tasks for them or ask simple things. He made Japan seem magical and foreign in a romantic way, and in reality, it was foreign but for someone who had never left her small Island. Everything was foreign to her, especially when setting her sight on the toilet that was off their room. The train and boat journeys tired her out and now nestled inside of a hotel Ken called a Ryokan she tried to relax, but still, she couldn't. She had no idea where they were and she had been too tired to really pay attention to the scenery earlier this morning and last night.
She looked around the room to explore, soft mats were underneath her slippered feet, while there were short chairs and tables with cushions stacked up in a corner as well. Full sizes chairs were facing the window, along with a coffee table. Or was it a tea table? In another room, there is bedding laid out on the floor, pillows and duvets neatly folded and stacked. Futon's Ken told her in passing.
A futon—did this place not even have a real bed? Was she spending her honeymoon sleeping on a mattress on the floor?
Then it hit her.
Her honeymoon- a proper honeymoon.
Not in a hotel in Charlottetown, where she had fallen asleep on him from the day's festivities. Not some fancy Toronto Hotel that made her blush like a virginal bride she was as he kissed places of her body she hadn't thought would be so sensitive. How she still as she shivered and shook until he held her close realizing how frightened she was.
Plenty of time, he mumbled, no point in rushing things if they had a lifetime to be with one another.
Still between the trains, boats and her prolonged sea sickness. He had been patient and kind about everything.
She shakes her head as she looks out to the clear blue skies. The building was old but taken care of. Rustic her mother would call it. Thatched roofs, was what Ken had told her, roofs made of straw and grass? It was pretty in its own way, but not what she had imagined at the same time.
There was a knock on the door and when Rilla opened it was a young girl, younger than her own twenty-one years of age holding some colourful cotton garment.
She spoke rapidly to a blinking Rilla,
Yukata? Is that what this robe was called? It was light purple with shadows of cherry blossoms and swirling clouds,
Rilla was confused, though it felt like the girl was here to dress her. Another moment of silence before she nodded her head, and she found herself being undressed to her embarrassment. Did they not wear corsets? Apparently not, though she couldn't complain too much about this development. In the end, it took a length of rope and a white belt that was tied tightly and pulled in her waist slightly, to keep the robe tightly closed around her.
Another whirl of words she didn't know, but something gave her the impression the young woman would be back tomorrow to dress her once more.
"You are dressed!" Ken says entering the room, still dressed in his travelling suits. "You and the maid got along then?"
"I think so?" Rilla says unsure. "I am not used to not being able to speak to people, I just stood there like a doll as she practically dressed me?"
"It will get easier, and once you explore more, see more of the area you will enjoy it. Dinner will be along, I asked for simple things to start with." Ken explains. "I can't wait to show you the onsen—the hot springs, they are divine Rilla. You can soak away every worry from your soul in one, there is one private one to rent, there is a woman's one that you can use as you wish daily as well."
"I don't have a suit?" Rilla frowns, of course, he wouldn't think about such things when telling her to pack.
"You don't need one dearest," Ken says grinning. "It is a bath after all, and it will just be the two of us this evening."
He doesn't say it suggestively, but still, she blushes all the same as a new bride often does. She was still not used to close quarters, or seeing him shirtless in the mornings. She's still too shy to dress for bed in front of him. Marriage was still a mystery in many ways to her, and what happened in the dark of the night between a husband and wife? Surely her parents-they had six children after all? No… she shouldn't think of such things.
She is lost in her thoughts as Ken comes back from the other room, dressed in his own robes and slippers. It was strange to see him in such clothing, but she also felt like she would have felt out of place in her travelling dress. Suddenly there was a knock at the door and it was Ken who opens it for the workers who are carrying their dinner. It's laid out on the short table, Small dishes of various vegetables and meats, soup with noodles and a pot of rice. Another one lights a fire to ward off the cool air that was creeping through the walls and windows of this place. She follows Ken, sitting down in the chair, more like kneeling, before looking over her dinner when she realizes there are no forks or knives. Just long wooden sticks and a spoon.
"You hold them like this," Ken quickly explains. Placing a stick almost like she's holding a pencil, but shows her how to keep a grip with her third finger, before placing the second between her first two fingers, her thumb keeping both of them steady. "Chopsticks are what the English call them."
"Chopsticks?" Rilla repeats, as she copies his motions and watches him pick up pieces of food, placing them in a bowl with some of the rice.
She eats slowly at first unsure of what was served to her, the food while strange to her was good she found out as she began to eat with relish. At one point, she looks up to find her husband grinning at her. She blushes and takes a smaller bite of food with delicate precision.
The nervous flutters begin once again.
Dinner, an evening stroll, bedtime—
It was bedtime that send her mind and heart beating. How long have they spent travelling? A week along on the train, over a week technically, and another ten days on a boat to Japan before another few days on a train into the northern part of Japan that brought them here. Over two weeks of travelling, kissing in corners, but never more. Not on a train, she deserved more than a train, and then seasickness claimed her and while the room on the boat was spacious, it wasn't time for that either.
Now it felt like an electrical current between them, or at least it felt like that to her.
"Come I want to show you around," he takes her hand. Helping her stand up once dinner was finished. She put on their sandals and Ken slides the door open. Down the hall, people bow to them as they pass by and Ken returns the sentiment.
"Bowing is a polite greeting," he whispers to her. "They won't expect it of us, but it is their custom," Ken further explains.
They walk outside, it's cooler out, as the sun is slowly setting in the sky. The entire hotel is like a compound of buildings, explain each one and certain symbols to look out for. He showed her the door to the lady's public bath. You could hear laughter in the distance coming from the mixed bath. More than once a local citizen stopped to stare at them pass by.
"Your hair is something not seen here," Ken explains. "If I remember correctly they fawned over Persis with her blonde curls as well once upon a time.
"Konbanwa," Someone says to them in passing, and Ken returns the sentiment with the same words and bows to an older man.
"That meant Good Evening?" Rilla asks thinking back to the short lessons of Japanese she had on the train from him. "Konnichiwa is good afternoon?"
"Yes, and yes, Ohayō gozaimasu formally is Good Morning," Ken says pressing a kiss to her temple.
Her heart fluttered once more, straight down into her belly.
Tonight her honeymoon officially begins.
Tonight-she would be officially a wife.