Through Awakened Eyes

Omoide barely registers that Keibiin has left him alone in the onsen until the shoji hits the wooden frame with a snap. 

The vibrant colors alone are enough to make his heart studder and he holds his breath.  The bath itself is a rectangle with a stone bench that runs down both sides to the end.  The open end of the bath gives the appearance that the water just continues to flow over. 

He sways his hands beneath the water next to him.  The water laps at the sides of the bath as some spills over into a continuous drain trough that runs the length of the sides of the bath eventually falling over the edge to the outside.  There is a wooden boarder that appears to be floating just on the surface surrounding the entire bath with raised blocks in the corners. 

Looking more closely at the corner blocks, he sees this is where the water is flowing into the bath, keeping a constant temperature and clean flow of water.  He listens for the sound of a motor or pump that is forcing the water through but can only hear the water itself and the sounds of nature that flow in through the open end of the space.

His eyes travel to left, where a frosted glass wall is situated on top of a two foot dark wooden base.  The glass panels are about half the height to the ceiling.  There are what must be spotlights behind the panels.  Their light flows up and to the ceiling, coloring the frosted glass in sunset colors of burnt orange and yellow-red.  Looking to the right, he sees the same panels repeated but these also reflect the sunset that adds its own shades of red along with long shadows of the mature cherry tree that can be seen through the open end of the covered bath.

Omoide is once again lost in the beauty and serenity of the space he is in, being completely relaxed and content.  He leans his head back against the wooden frame of the bath and lets his eyes close. 

A gentle breeze brings the scent of cherry blossoms and another floral fragrance  that he can't quite place.  Even the smell of the cherry blossoms seem so sharp like it's the first time he has experienced it.  Along with the floral notes in the breeze, he can feel the heat and dampness of the onsen steam caress his face to further sooth his mind and spirit.

Omoide is reluctant to open his eyes just in case this has all been some illusion induced by his most recent summoning.  He inhales deeply and slowly opens his eyes to only once again be totally mesmerized by the sight above him.  He exhales with his mouth wide open in wonder.

The sun has set even further and the inside of the covered onsen has now been gently lit by tiny lights intertwined in the bamboo latticework above him.  It gives the impression of thousands of stars twinkling in a midnight sky except this sky has several purple satellites hanging from the vines above.

He breathes in again and can finally place the other strong floral notes.  Wisteria. The entire bamboo latticework above the bath is supporting a massive wisteria vine.  Its flower clusters hanging down like grapes on a vine.  They sway in the gentle breeze and drip with condensation from the rising steam of the heated bath.

As the sun finally falls behind the horizon, the wisteria flower clusters pick up the lighting from below and above as well as the reflections of the bath causing them to look as if on fire, a blue-purple flame that could burn a soul to oblivion with their stunning beauty.

As if on cue, the last of the sunlight fades and the night sky changes from reds to blues to black, a gentle light comes on under the cherry tree just outside the building.  At the same time, a screen begins to drop from the ceiling, blocking out the evening breeze but not nature's nighttime symphony that begins with crickets and toad song.

How long has it been since he sat in a garden and just listened to the world?  Taken time for himself to do nothing at all.  Why can't he remember ever seeing the world in this light, in these colors?  Is that what Desire is for a soul?  Has the recent lifetimes he has lived been void of color, of sights and sounds and scents - of Desire?

He turns to the stairs and walks up them slowly, looking back over his shoulder and taking in the entire view behind him before he turns back and opens the sliding door to the ensuite connected to the his temporary room.

Omoide steps over the raised entryway and immediately feels the warmth of the heated tiles under his feet.  The door closes silently with only light snap when it connects with the frame.

The ensuite is breathtaking.  To the right of the entryway sits a simple white porcelain tub framed in dark polished wood and tucked up against three wide frosted windows that look out into the cherry tree grove.  The windows are framed in the same aged bamboo that covers the onsen.  Two pendulum lights hang from the white-washed slat ceiling which is vaulted in a gentle angle to the interior wall.

There is a tapestry hung on the wall just before the end of the bath.  Omoide moves closer and touches the deep red background and then traces one of the cherry blossoms and its branch.  The texture is rough and he can see this was hand woven, probably from died hemp fibers.  It could be countless years old.

He shivers slightly as he realized he is standing there, dripping on the floor in only his compression shorts.  The tile floor may be heated but the air is still cool.  Looking to his left and leaving the tapestry behind him, he see a cabinet with doors in the same style as the shoji.  He opens one, and finds the towels he was seeking.

Taking out a towel, he notices it's in the same deep red as the background of the tapestry with embroidered cherry blossoms trailing along the edges.  He shakes it out and tosses it over his head to begin drying his hair and then, his body.  The towel is warm and has the scent of cedar wood and lemon oil.  It is incredibly soft and thick so Omoide wraps up his body and just relaxes into the warmth, softness and calming scent of the towel.

After a few minutes, he sighs and rubs the towel through his hair again and then wraps it around his waist.  He reached under the towel and removes his shorts, hanging them over the side of the tub to dry.

Turning around he sees the glass walled shower across from the tub and next to the linin closet.  It's not huge but not small either.  'Could easily fit two people in there and there are two benches as well.' He thinks as he steps into the shower and lets the door slide shut.

He admires the sandstone look and feel of the tiles on the shower walls.  They appear seamless, like one giant piece of rock was carved out just for this shower.  Its simplistic yet elegant at the same time.

There are shower controls and multiple shower heads on both sides of the space.  In the center of the back wall, there is a control pad that lit up when the doors closed.  Looking over the options, Omoide concludes that this pad would control both sides of the shower in unison. 

He begins to scroll through the options.  Water temperature, shower head selection, steam head selections, water pressure, lighting and audio.  Omoide is mesmerized by the vast number of combinations available, just to shower.

He sighs and speaks to himself, "What about a nice, nearly too hot, shower with a strong enough stream to massage my back and shoulders like standing under a waterfall,  but a gentle stream falling down from above, like standing in a rain shower?" He chuckles and turns to leave the shower.

"Setting saved, adjusting water temperature, please stand by.  Do not open door." Announces a lilting voice from what must be, hidden speakers.  "Starting shower with saved settings.  Please adjust as needed."  The voice speaks again as the water slowly begins to flow out of the showerheads and a low rumbling noise can be heard, like a slow rolling thunderstorm.

Omoide quickly removes the towel from around his waist and hangs it over the double high shower door just as the first drops of water begin to fall from the rectangular showerhead nestled in the stainless ceiling.  The flow increases slowly as he leans his head back to capture some of the water in his mouth.

The water temperature is perfect and causes a light steam to fill the shower.  He feels water hitting his back with slightly increasing pressure.  He looks over his shoulder to see two shower heads, or more like jets, on rails moving up and down on the wall, hitting his back in just the right places.  He leans into spray a bit more and lets out a satisfied groan.

The sound of his own pleased voice startles him and he laughs a little.  "I guess I have been missing some of the little satisfying things in life.  How could all of this not been missed?  Did my Desire have to affect so much?"  He muses a bit more on this thought but lets it all drift from his mind as the just enjoys the feeling of his muscles being loosened by the hot jets of water hitting his back.

After a few minutes of the best water massage he can remember, Omoide concedes that he needs to actually shower and get something to eat.  "Uh, please turn off the massage jets.  I just need to wash now."  He said with some hesitation, not knowing the correct voice commands to use.

"Standard waterflow confirmed." The voice replies and the water pressure lessens from the showerheads behind him.  He notices the toiletries in the cut out in the shower wall and reaches for the products he needs as he starts his regular showering routine.

Once he has washed and rinsed, he asks the shower to shut down and it complies without complaint.  Omoide, on the other hand, was actually upset that the shower was done.  Between the onsen and this shower, he wasn't sure if he would ever leave this place for long.

He wraps himself in the towel that he hung over the shower door but notices more towels on a heated rack just outside the shower and grabs one, discarding the other towel on the floor.  Wrapping up in the warm cedar and lemon scented towel, Omoide turns towards the door that leads to his temporary room.

Just like in the onsen before, he really doesn't want to leave this room with all of its colors, scents and sounds.  He is once again captivated by all of the things he must have been missing without his Desire.