Chapter 20 — She Was Gentle

They said that she was gentle. That there was nothing more precious in this life than a kind heart. As vibrant as rays of golden sunlight, her benevolence and her smile shall too split the clouds and turn the shyest leaves lush. Whenever they thought of her, they told her that her name was like the sun that shined across four seasons. Four seasons to encompass the days of the year, and she shall shine just the same. For as long as she could walk her own two feet, her footsteps had always trailed to the sides of others, ready to be anywhere that she was needed. It was simply her nature.

But most of all, Yotsuba must remember to breathe. There will always be someone somewhere that would need her help; someone whose days grew brighter with her around. But it would all mean nothing if she did not remember to help herself. It was a little embarrassing for her to admit, but Yotsuba had taken a bit of time to learn something so painfully obvious and simple. She was grateful that she did. Now that she stood facing the air of late autumn, the daydreaming girl had slowly allowed for the gentle coldness to fill her lungs. One hand placed over chest and the slowest seconds she could count in her head. One… two… three…

Then finally, breathe. "It's almost time for winter…" Yotsuba muttered, brushing some of the fallen leaves with the tip of her slippers. A slight shiver settled over her skin and she promptly adjusted the collar of her yukata. The breeze had grown colder in these past few days. The old, worn-out fabric that made her attire was poorly suited to handle the colder days, and the age hardly helped at all. Bits of the silk had frayed near the ends of the sleeves; the color had long-since faded. In fact, if Yotsuba could think about the days they had spent at Toraiwa as children, then these would most likely have been the same robes that the inn's visitors wore—perhaps much older than that, even.

Yotsuba leaned against the open doorway, watching the slender tree branches add one more reddish leaf to the autumn litter. Looking back, Yotsuba would have never thought how much work their grandfather truly poured into the inn. In these past months, their grandfather had told her many things. He said that all roads walked upon in this life—from hers, theirs, and the next stranger—were made of different stones and carved in different scars. Just like their mother, a weary soul deserves a brief respite. A moment's rest. He said to her it took someone who was gentle— someone who knew what burdens could weigh a heavy heart to be able to offer solace along their hardships. He said that was what it meant to give hospitality.

There were a lot more things Yotsuba wanted to learn. A plethora of things that she could still learn, if only there was enough time.

Their grandfather passed away on an August afternoon. It all seemed like it was only yesterday when she and her sisters gathered at his beside. Though the elderly man had found the strength to return to Toraiwa, his condition had slowly gotten worse as the seasons changed. Perhaps he had always wanted his final resting place to be within the walls he had always known. The place that offered him the greatest peace. In those short days, their grandfather had instructed Yotsuba on the proper care and etiquette that came with undertaking the mantle of an innkeeper. He taught her how to manage, how to maintain, how to aid those who found their way past their front doors.

Again, Yotsuba sighed. "If only there was more time, Grandpa." Her fingers rested on the thin wooden door frame, feeling the low rattle of the old door. Compared to when the five of them were able to visit altogether, the state of Toraiwa Inn was in a bit of better state. Not exactly in its most pristine or operational condition, but neither was it as dusty and decrepit. It was simply good enough. Good enough to warrant a blissful smile on her grandfather's face as he took his slow, feeble strolls across the cleaned hardwood floor, letting his old eyes settle across the verdant garden. The light scent of flourishing flora teased under his nose.

"Ah…" he said, stopping by one of the flowers in the garden. His old fingers stroked the delicate petals, smiling. "Yotsuba, are these new? Did you plant them here?"

"Oh, I um… I did," she replied. "Er.. what do you think? Does it not fit well? I thought that it would be… you know, p"

"No… no… I think that they are perfect."

Now, as the present-day Yotsuba gingerly pinched the tips of the flower petals, she could not help but fall back on those comforting words. She would need all of it. It was the least Yotsuba could do. It was the only thing she felt confident that she could do. "How were you able to do this all on your own?"

After a lengthy stretch of her muscles, Yotsuba turned and picked up the cleaning supplies beside her. Her mind must have still been caught in a daydream, shaken awake by the sound of a toppled bucket and sudsy water spilling across the floors. "Ah, shoot!" Yotsuba exclaimed. She quickly began to pick up the cleaning tools, moving them aside until all that was left with a soapy puddle. She looked around, mumbling to herself, "Gotta find a towel… gotta find a towel… towel… tow… el…"

Her search brought her behind the reception desk, further where the storage room for customer amenities was located. She scoured past the neatly folded yukatas, pillows, blankets, towels, tissues… "Ah! Towels! Here they ar—"

"Yotsuba?" a voice called out, echoing along the halls. "Yotsubaaa? Are you down he—whoa! W-w-whoa! AHH!"

Yotsuba shot up, just in time to hear the nearby voice let out a shriveled yelp. A low squeak sounded from where their slippers slid along the floor, and Yotsuba could only warn her a little too late as she rounded the desk. "Oh my god! Itsuki, I'm so sorry!" she called out to her sister. "I just spilled water there. The floor is all slippery!"

"I noticed…." Itsuki said with a slight wince. "Ow… ow…"

"Sorry…" Yotsuba gave a halfhearted laugh, reaching over to help up her sister. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"Just my… ow… just my butt. I landed pretty hard." When she was back on her feet, Itsuki tugged the length of her yukata, then ran her palms down the backside, feeling the soaked portions of her clothes. The unpleasant scent of dirt and soap seeped into the fabric, and Itsuki grimaced at herself as she stood looked over her body. "I need to go get changed again…"

"Let me get you a change of clothes! Better yet, you should hop into the springs. Wait right here—oh, I should probably put down a wet floor sign too. I wonder where if there's one in the back…"

"Yotsuba, it's just the two of us here." Itsuki placed a hand on her hips, eyeing her bashful. "The only person that would have been useful for is me."

"Heh… good point. By the way, what's that thing you've been holding onto this whole time?"

Itsuki looked down to where she tightly held onto a book, pressed against her chest. She quickly flipped through the pages, going from cover to cover until she breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank goodness. I was worried that it might have been ruined."

"What was?"

"Uesugi-kun's teaching book. The one I'm borrowing from him." Itsuki showed it to her—'The ABCs of Becoming a Good Teacher', as the title read. At a glance, the book showed signs of wear. The corners of the cover and pages were dog-eared, stubbornly curled upward no matter how long it was pressed down. The spine was embedded with a pale, jagged line down the middle that looked like the crack of an old road, undoubtedly from having its pages repeatedly opened and flipped through.

"Were you up late studying again?" Yotsuba asked. "I saw your light on last night."

"I… may have reviewed a few pages before bed."

"Even when your next college term hasn't started yet? You really should be taking this time to rest, Itsuki."

"Yeah, I know. It's just that, whenever I think about my certification exam, I can't help but think there is just so much I can still do."

"But you still have a few years, right?"

"I don't want to get too comfortable," Itsuki retorted. "Two years will go by before I know it. All I know is that, by the time I have to sit down and take the test, the first thing I'll wish is that I had more time. If I have time to spare, then I should spend it studying!"

"You know, you're starting to sound a lot like Uesugi-san," Yotsuba nagged. "And it's my job as your sister to stop you before you turn into a grump like him. Now you must be starving, right? Get changed and we'll have breakfast."

Itsuki crossed her arms, grumbling under her breath, "I suppose you're right. Then, could you hold on to this for me?" She handed Yotsuba the old teaching book. "I'll be back soon. The spare robes are in that room you just came out of, right?"

"Yup! They'll be to your right when you walk in. The adult ones are on the higher shelf; women's kimonos are closer to the door."

"Thanks."

"Are you okay with the usual for breakfast? I think I got grandpa's recipe nailed down this time!"

"Oh, that will be fine. But are you sure you wouldn't want some help? I can bathe quickly and—"

"Nope!" Yotsuba interrupted, waving a quick finger over her sister's nose. "I told you, Itsuki, you are here to help me practice You are my guest. A good host is all in their hospitality, and it all starts with a properly cooked meal. Now, are you going to bathe and get changed, or did you want to eat sitting down with your butt all soaked?"

"Fine, fine…" Itsuki made her to the back room, grabbing a clean set of clothes before making her way back to the springs. Her sister had already dashed off, making quick work of the earlier spill. In the distance, Itsuki could hear the faint rummage of kitchen supplies clashing and clanging against each other until they loudly fumbled onto the floor, accompanied with the clumsy groan of her over-enthused sister. For a moment, Itsuki thought of poking her head in and asking Yotsuba again if she really did need some help, but the fifth sister knew well enough what sort of stubborn answer she would get in return.

"She'll be fine… I hope…" Itsuki shook her head. It would only be for a few days, but during her break between university trimesters, Itsuki figured that a change of pace would be welcoming when it came to studying for her future teaching certification exam. It was still a few years away before she could try for the exam, but it never hurt to get an early start. Besides, she cherished this place These old walls that seemingly shone brighter in these past months; these meticulously scrubbed floors that lowly creaked beneath her feet. Just as their mother had found tranquility within the steam over spring waters, Itsuki had too found all her muddled thoughts slowly distilling as her body sunk into the warm bath. Stray bits of her red hair slipped between the folds of her towel, falling past her brow and slowly beside her cheeks before she would carelessly tuck them back underneath, letting a tiresome sigh deflate her chest.

Relief. The thought would not often cross her mind, but a future without Toraiwa Hot Springs left a painful scar within the walls of her heart. One less piece to prove that their mother and their grandfather once existed in this world. Their grandfather had understandably questioned the idea. The past was just that—the past. The five of them had their own lives to live, just as their mother had, and just as he had. Perhaps a day would come when they would truly have said their goodbyes to this place, be it as the women they were today or the women that they will be in the future, there was no dream worth forfeiting for a legacy.

"Are you sure that is what you want, Yotsuba?" their grandfather had then asked her on that day where they gathered at his hospital bed. "Your mother, your grandmother, and I have already lived our lives. We have already made our peace with Toraiwa. You girls should do whatever it is you want for your own happiness."

"I am sure, Grandpa." Yotsuba had answered. "I've never been more sure of anything else in my life. Please."

"Even then, it might not…" His voice trailed until it would fall silent. One long look was all it took. One look into those blue eyes, bright and brimming as the endless expanse of the sea, yet somehow, void of any space to mask hesitation.

"Please," Yotsuba had repeated. "Please teach me, Grandpa."

In a way, Itsuki felt guilty. Back then and right now, she could not help but feel a little guilty. It made sense why their grandfather was cautious over the idea. Of course, they had no reason to doubt Yotsuba—if anything, they were all thrilled over the idea. And for that reason, Itsuki could not help but wonder—was it simply too much of a burden to place on her? Neither of the five sisters cherished this place any less than the other, but it seemed selfish, in an odd way, to rely on just one sister to watch over Toraiwa while the rest did as they pleased. Itsuki wondered to herself, was it so wrong to feel just a little guilty? Was having another passing day, week, month, year, or years where she could so readily dip her feet into these waters a little too convenient for—

The quickened slide and clap of the slide door snapped her away from her daydreaming, sitting upright with a jolt up her spine.

"Breakfast is ready!" Yotsuba exclaimed, taking bold steps into the women's bath. "Itsuki! I've been calling for you the entire time; haven't you been hearing me?"

"H-huh…?" Itsuki stood upright. "Wait, you were? Sorry, I…"

Yotsuba laughed, handing her sister a towel. "Well, no matter! I got you now, so come on! Get yourself dressed and head over to the dining area. I heard your stomach growling before I even walked in."

"G-g-growling?!" Itsuki wrapped her arms over her belly. "You did not! It wasn't making any kind of sound."

"No, I'm sure I heard it! It made this long, weird, growly noise like this. Ahem. Ggrruuu…"

"Quit it, Yotsuba! You're just making that up—"

They quickly fell silent, overcome with a loud rumbling between Itsuki's wrapped arms that she could only wrap tighter, as if it could muffle the sound. Stiffly, she would stand, rolling her lips between her teeth as her face turned bright red.

"Ah ha…" Yotsuba gave a halfhearted laugh. "Looks like my hunch was— "

"L-look! I'm stepping out, alright?!" Itsuki marched out of the water, hastily wrapping the towel around her chest. "There! Now, just let me get dressed!"

A pleasant, whetting aroma. Pink, piscine flesh, split apart with the effortless glide of her chopsticks, as if the frail, wooden length of it were as sharp as any able chef's knife. Soft, tender. The flesh teetered between a loosened form, ready to collapse from the slightest nudge; and stubborn enough to hold together as it lifted upon a clump of fine rice. If her appetite would allow her the patience, Itsuki would have delighted in the idea of taking the flavors one by one. The pickled side dishes that settled on her tongue, the miso soup that warmed her insides, and the spectacle of everything so eloquently displayed in front of her. That alone was a mark of improvement, and if she had the patience for it, Itsuki would have congratulated her sister.

Instead, her lips would much rather wrap tightly around the ends of her chopsticks, humming a sweet melody of salt and savor that met her tongue. Beside her, Yotsuba sat patiently on her knees, holding onto a serving plate on her lap as she watched her hungry sister go through the dishes she prepared. "You must have really been hungry, Itsuki," said Yotsuba with a giggle.

Itsuki wiped her mouth a napkin. "Sorry. When I woke up, I took a quick glance at some of the sections I read last night. I only meant for it to be a short review, but before I knew it, it was almost past breakfast. Oh, thank you."

Yotsuba finished pouring them tea, sliding one mug over to Itsuki's side of the table. "Okada-san and Fujita-san taught me a couple of things about serving to customers. She helped me with the presentation."

"Okada and Fujita… Ah, Grandpa's former employees, right? Did they stop by again?"

Yotsuba nodded. "This morning when I was cleaning up. They even asked when we'd be ready to open up again, so that they can come back and work here. Ha ha…"

"They're sweet ladies," said Itsuki, sipping her tea. "We owe them a lot for checking up on the place while Grandpa was sick."

"Yeah. They told me that Grandpa was a good boss to them, and that they'd want to come back into hospitality." Yotsuba sighed.

"Something the matter?"

"It's nothing. I'm sure they didn't mean anything harmful by it, but it really feels like I should hurry. I want to nail all this stuff down and do just as good of a job as Grandpa did. Did you know Grandpa was only eighteen when he opened up Toraiwa? That's two whole years younger than us!"

"Yotsuba, you shouldn't feel like you're in a rush," said Itsuki. "Grandpa did things his way, and you—"

"I know I shouldn't rush," Yotsuba quickly added. "It's just a thought I have sometimes. Nothing more."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. More importantly, why don't we have breakfast first? If we keep talking, it'll grow cold. I want to know what you think."

"Oh! You're right." She fixed the chopsticks in her hand, followed by her posture—a habit she had developed from her off-and-on hobby as a food critic. It had been a while since she last visited that persona; college had taken too much of her time these days.

With every sampled dish, Yotsuba leaned ever so slightly towards her. There was a pause to her breath as she watched her sister, wondering exactly what sorts of thoughts ran through the mind of someone judging her cooking. "So…" Yotsuba asked, trailing the ends of her words, "how is it…?"

"Hm…" Itsuki thought for a moment.

"Please be brutally honest with me, Itsuki! If I'm going to be serving this in the future, then it needs to be perfect. I could never get it the way Grandpa did, but I think this is pretty close, right? Be straight with me."

"Honestly? I don't think they taste similar at all. They're completely different in just about… well, if I were to say, everything."

Though she asked for her most blunt and honest opinion, Yotsuba could not help but slump over, landing her back against the tatami floors. "Really…? But I was so confident this time…"

"I-I mean," Itsuki switched her tone upon seeing her sister's defeated expression, "that's not necessarily a bad thing, it's more like… what I mean to say is that it's probably better if…"

"Argh! Okay! Alright!" Yotsuba shot herself back up, clenching her fists. "Next time for sure! I'm gonna get it just right, so I hope you still have an appetite."

Itsuki pinched the ends of Yotsuba's sleeves as she started for the kitchen. "You didn't let me finish, Yotsuba. Now, sit back down. What's gotten into you? Why are you so all-over-the-place? Is something on your mind?"

Yotsuba sighed, resting her elbows on the floor table. She fiddled a little with a spare set of chopsticks, swirling one of the side dishes until it was a sloppy pile. After a while, she spoke, "I knew it wouldn't be easy…"

"Hm?" Itsuki muffled a response from her stuffed mouth, as she already resumed with her meal.

"Taking over Toraiwa, I mean. Grandpa taught me so much before he died, and yet, I feel like I haven't learned a thing. I was never good at cooking. Not one bit. I'm lousy at cleaning to the point I leave messes all over the floor for people slip on." Yotsuba massaged her shoulder, letting out a tired groan. "Really… the only thing I can do decently around here is just physical labor. I'm just too dumb to get a grasp on this kind of thing."

"Now, now. Don't say things like that about yourself like that, Yotsuba. You'll start believing in them at that rate." Itsuki reached over the table, helping herself to some of the pickled vegetables that Yotsuba had tousled earlier.

"You actually like that?" Yotsuba raised a brow.

"I never said I didn't," she replied, happily placing the vegetables in her mouth. "Grandpa liked to add a little more cabbage and ginger, and he sliced the cucumbers a little thinner too. But the way you did it is also pretty good! The thicker cuts adds a lot more texture, and I think you're using more sesame too. I can really taste it better this way."

"Whoa. That… actually was all correct. How did you piece together all of that?" Yotsuba tilted her head. "Itsuki, are you like, some kind of food critic or something?"

"W-w-what?!" Itsuki almost choked on her last few bites. "What makes you say t-that? Of course not!"

"Oh? Well, you'd make a pretty good one, I'm sure." Yotsuba shrugged. "So… you like it?"

Itsuki nodded. "I do. I'm quite enjoying my meal, actually. It doesn't have to be exactly like Grandpa's, you know. If you cook this for visitors, I'd think this would be more than enough. It's exactly what I would want—something that tastes like it came from home."

"Itsuki…"

"Besides," the fifth sister continued, picking up the last bits of the grilled salmon. "Are you forgetting one of the most important things Grandpa said about running the inn?"

"Heh…" Yotsuba dryly chuckled, scratching the back of her head. "He said so many things and they all sounded so important."

"Mom used to say it too. She said Grandpa taught her it. I think it went something like…" She clasped her chopsticks between her lips, humming her thoughts. "'Nature never hurries, and yet everything is accomplished.'"

"Ooh! I think I remember that one. Grandpa used to always say that, because it was like that when it came to people too. He said that people come here when they need to…"

"'… when they need to slow down for a little.'" Itsuki finished, looking towards Yotsuba. "And I think that also applies to you too, Yotsuba."

"For me?"

"Don't you think so?"

For a while, Yotsuba sat quietly. Her fingers found their way to the tea mug she had long since poured for herself, yet had never found the time to savor the first sip. Small traces of warmth still lingered around the ceramic dimples that fit her fingers—not quite as hot as she would have liked it, but better to be enjoyed sooner than later. She had remembered the countless times she had found their grandfather seated just like this, watching the colors of the season dance in their different shades. Sometimes he would not notice her; sometimes he would be sound asleep.

When their grandfather died, he had left all he owned to his granddaughters. Toraiwa Hot Springs was passed on with all five of their names as equal ownership, along with the rest of his savings. He said that it would have been enough to keep the place together for next two to three years—even longer, if they shrunk the seasonal windows the inn stayed open. Himakajima was a small, almost unnoticeable island, with only the allure of the warmer seasons and the tease of a carefree summer to bring visitors to its sandy shores. For those reasons, as well as their grandfather only being able to hire only a few helpers for the short term, Toraiwa Hot Springs had only opened in the late spring to midsummer.

"Slow down, huh…" Yotsuba repeated to herself. "You're saying I should take more time?"

"If that's what you need to do."

"That I don't have to do things exactly the same way Grandpa did it?"

"If that's what you want to do."

"Then…" The ends of her words trailed on, brought to a quiet hum as she remembered everything everyone would always say to her. There were times where it was time to go forward—to make decisions and to take action. And just as often, there would be times where she needed to quietly and gracefully slow down—to stop and ponder the steps she had since taken in this long, tiresome road called life. For Yotsuba, it seemed a little too easy to dwell on the things she did not know. How many more times did she have to be confused before she would realize just how natural it was to not know? After all, that was the first step to learning.

One hand placed over chest and the slowest seconds she could count in her head. One… two… three… then finally, breathe. Somewhere in this wide world of theirs, in this tiny corner of this tiny island, was a place where she was needed. A gentle kind of place. A place for all the weary ones that needed a brief respite and somewhere to rest their head. Every guest shall be honored; every guest as important as the last—even if that guest should be Yotsuba herself. For now, there was only one thing that set her mind at ease, whenever the days had grown a little harder than the last.

"Hey, Itsuki," Yotsuba finally said. "Before we come back, do you think you could do me a favor?"

"Hm? What kind of favor?"

Yotsuba slowly stood, letting out a long, relieved groan as her arms reached high over her head. The light of a late morning spilled into their room, and the thought of some fresh air did nothing but delight her as she made her way to the window, letting the cool autumn breeze blow past their hair. She turned to Itsuki, smiling. "Do you think you could do some shopping with me? I think… I might want to do some more garden work the next time I come back to Toraiwa."

'Dear valued Guest,

Thank you so much for your interest in Toraiwa Inn. As of this time, we will be closed until further notice, due to the recent passing of, Mihara Takeshi, the previous inn's owner, and our beloved grandfather. For over fifty years, Mihara-san's kindness had brought comfort and tranquility to all those that found their way to our doorstep. We honor his service to his community and wish him a peaceful rest with his late wife, Mihara Setsuko.

For more details concerning the future reopening, you may check our website or follow us at…'

Signed, Nakano Yotsuba, Fourth Eldest Granddaughter.'

Author's Note

A little something lighter to fill the month (and totally NOT something scrounged together out of procrastination, or the dread of not knowing how any of this stuff worked). I had this part of the story outlined since forever, but putting it all in practice was a much larger endeavor. Let's keep the A/N short for once, because words are totally failing me this month.

Anyways, thanks to those who left reviews on Chapter 19 and any recent chapters—Bob19248, Fox McCloude, PrimeZero, Quintaphract, segft, TheMist33, OkinaNeko, Inaho1906, chloetuco, Miimbot, and XGoGame! Thanks also to the reddit commenters—Small_Ruin_648, chloetuco, and OkinaNeko7. Nice to see the reception again—I guess people really are reading an Ichika x Fuutarou fanfic for Ichika and Fuutarou moments. Who knew, right? ┐(￣ヮ￣)┌

_φ(。。) "Man, oh man, what a month this week has been…"