Horitake and Mitsuri soaked their feet in the hot spring foot bath, their faces radiating bliss and relaxation. They sat there, eyes closed, soft smiles playing on their lips.
After a while, Mitsuri murmured dreamily, "Horitake-nii, I don't want to work anymore. I want to live here forever."
Horitake, equally languid, replied, "Mitsuri, I'm tempted too, but we've got responsibilities."
"Yeah, responsibilities… ugh, forget it. For these few days, let's just relax and enjoy ourselves. I don't want to think about anything else."
"This is just the start, Mitsuri. This is only a foot bath. There are all kinds of springs ahead where we can soak our whole bodies and really unwind."
"That sounds… amazing."
The old man nearby watched their blissful expressions, utterly baffled.
He'd greeted countless visitors at the entrance to Kusatsu's hot spring stream and seen many enjoy the foot bath, but none had melted like these two.
What had this couple been doing? What kind of work left them so drained that a mere foot bath reduced them to this?
After soaking for a bit, Horitake snapped out of it first, glancing at Mitsuri.
"Mitsuri, time to wake up. This foot bath's done—there's more to come."
Still dreamy, Mitsuri pouted playfully.
"Nooo, Horitake-nii, I don't want to get up."
"Oh? Not moving? I saw a taiyaki stand over there, plus tons of other tasty stuff. Sure you want to stay put?"
Those words hit Mitsuri like a lightning bolt!
Her eyes snapped open, and she yanked her feet from the water.
"Let's go!"
Horitake chuckled, but then… his gaze was caught by Mitsuri's bare feet.
How to describe them?
Pale, smooth, and adorable.
Horitake blinked, smacking his forehead in frustration.
Weird, I don't have a foot fetish. What's going on?
Thankfully, Mitsuri quickly slipped on her shoes and socks. Horitake did the same, and hand in hand, they began exploring the shops lining the hot spring stream.
First stop: the taiyaki stand Horitake mentioned.
The taiyaki had a crispy exterior and a fluffy interior, with sweet-but-not-cloying red bean paste that carried a refreshing, sandy texture. Utterly delicious.
So delicious, Mitsuri wanted to devour dozens.
Horitake hurriedly stopped her, pointing out more food ahead, convincing her to move on.
Next was a takoyaki stall.
(No idea if takoyaki existed in the Taisho era, but let's say it did.)
They grabbed some takoyaki, munching happily.
It was tasty, with generous chunks of octopus—unlike those shady stalls that skimp on the octopus or use none at all, just dough.
Then came desserts at a daifuku shop.
Horitake picked chestnut daifuku, Mitsuri chose strawberry. Both savored every bite.
The street offered more: tamagoyaki, yakitori, wagashi, oden, grilled fish, sushi, ramen, teppanyaki, mochi, tempura… and on and on.
They ate to their hearts' content!
Horitake was full by now, but…
Watching Mitsuri, still eagerly devouring her way through the food stalls, a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead.
He'd forgotten her bottomless appetite.
Could his monthly salary handle this?
It should be fine. If not, he'd dip into last month's pay for backup.
Good thing he was a Hashira now, with a heftier salary, or he'd never keep up with this girl.
They ate from day into evening, nearly hitting every food stall along the hot spring street.
That was terrifying!
Ever been to a night market or festival, wanting to try every stall but getting full after a few?
Mitsuri didn't. She genuinely ate her way from one end of the street to the other, hitting almost every shop!
Truly fearsome!
Was this what made Mitsuri, Mitsuri?
Aside from his wallet's panic, Horitake wasn't fazed—he was delighted.
Mitsuri ate like a champ but didn't gain weight or bloat.
What Horitake loved most was her expression while eating.
How to put it?
Despite her gluttonous nature, Mitsuri savored her food. Her face radiated genuine joy, infectious happiness that made you feel the bliss of good food alongside her.
Simply put, Mitsuri's eating had an uncanny ability to evoke empathy. Watching her smile, you knew she was truly happy.
Horitake, seeing her beam with each bite, couldn't help but feel joyful, swept up in her delight.
Her bottomless appetite? He didn't mind it—he loved it. It made her adorable, authentic.
Is this what they mean by "beauty is in the eye of the beholder"?
Mitsuri, however, thought differently. She was sure Horitake would hate her for this!
After conquering the entire street, she stood content under a newly lit streetlamp, glancing around.
Then it hit her—what she'd done all day.
Oh no! Horitake-nii saw my embarrassing side!
Horitake approached, holding a yakitori skewer.
"Mitsuri, one more?"
Her face flushed red. Mortified, she crouched under the streetlamp, burying her face, too ashamed to look at him.
Horitake caught on.
"Oh? Full already? Done eating?"
Still hiding her face, Mitsuri mumbled, "I'm so sorry, Horitake-nii. You saw my awful side. You… you probably don't like me anymore, right?"
Taking a bite of yakitori, Horitake shook his head.
"No way, Mitsuri. Seeing you eat so happily? I like you even more."
"You're just comforting me," she muttered. "Who'd like a girl who eats that much? It's… it's not ladylike!"
"Who says?" Horitake countered. "Mitsuri, you're an adorable girl. Anyone who says otherwise, I'll knock their head off!"
Still crouched, Mitsuri refused to look up.
"You don't have to console me, Horitake-nii. I know girls like me aren't likable.
Ever since I was little, I've been different.
As a kid, I could lift our family's pickling stone, scaring my mom half to death.
As I grew up, my appetite got huge—freakishly so.
After eating a hundred seventy sakura mochi, my hair turned this weird color!
Because of all this, every blind date I went on failed. No one could accept me like this.
How could anyone like someone like me…?"
Her voice broke with a hint of tears.
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