3.
Jiro didn’t really feel like washing himself in the sulphur spring, so
having warmed himself in the water, he sat on the edge of the bath and
allowed his thoughts to drift. The hot water that came from the faucets in
the area used for washing appeared to be fresh, but he didn’t feel like using
the soap the inn provided.
“Is it al right if I come in?” Utako said.
“Of course,” Jiro answered. She slid the door to the room open just a
little and stood holding it.
“When I was folding your shirt and things the maid came in and said—
Oh, let me do that for you, you go join your husband in the bath. I really
don’t like it when she does that.”
Utako was still wearing her light brown dress. She carried her yukata
under her arm.
She looked quite nonchalantly at Jiro, who was naked. This wasn’t at all
what Jiro had expected.
“It’s a bath. They won’t let you get away without bathing.”
“Really.” Once she had closed the door, Utako hardly hesitated to come
into the bath.
Jiro got no more than a glimpse of the color of her skin before he averted
his eyes. The whiteness of her skin was beautiful.
Utako sat very still, sunk up to her neck in the water.
Jiro sat facing the same direction, looking out at the white flowers of a
bush clover that spilled over the rocks near the window.
Utako lifted her shoulders from the water.
