-Mid-Morning-

  As Sen stepped out onto the bustling street, he rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off the stiffness that had settled in overnight. The warmth of the morning sun pressed against his back, but something else nagged at him—an uncomfortable itch crawling along his skin.

  The faint scent of smoke and tatami still clung to him from the inn, but underneath it, he could smell himself. A deep frown settled on his face as he scratched at his colrbone.

  (Tch… I stink.)

  Looking around, he scanned the street for any sign of a bathhouse. The town was waking up fast—merchants were already setting up stalls, peddling fresh produce, silks, and trinkets. The ctter of wooden sandals on stone mixed with the murmur of early shoppers haggling over prices.

  Further ahead, Sen spotted an old man carrying a bucket of steaming water, the scent of damp wood clinging to him. His keen eyes followed the direction the man came from, tracing it down the road to where thin wisps of steam curled into the air just beyond a row of buildings.

  (There… That should be a bathhouse.)

  Without hesitation, he started walking.

  The further he moved, the more diverse the crowd became. Unlike the street near the inn, which had mostly been filled with merchants and travelers, this part of town bustled with an unusual mix of people.

  Humans moved alongside humanoids of all kinds.

  A fox-eared woman, draped in a deep blue kimono, walked gracefully past a street vendor, her golden tail swaying slightly behind her. Nearby, a broad-shouldered troll with rough, moss-covered skin stood hunched beside a wooden cart, inspecting rge sacks of rice.

  Sen barely spared them a gnce—he was used to strange sights by now—but his instincts remained sharp.

  Further down, a lizard-like humanoid with glistening green scales sat on a wooden bench, sharpening a knife against a whetstone. His long tail flicked zily behind him, his slitted eyes barely acknowledging the passersby.

  As Sen continued, a small group of griffon-blooded beings passed him—a mix of human and birdlike features, with feathers sprouting from their arms and beaks peeking from their hoods. Their sharp, golden eyes flickered toward him briefly before they disappeared into the morning crowd.

  (Looks like this world really has a lot more weirdos than I can expect...)

  Despite the unusual company, Sen kept his focus. He finally spotted the bathhouse ahead—a rge wooden structure with white steam rising from the back. A blue noren curtain, marked with the symbol for "湯" (hot water), hung over the entrance.

  The scent of heated water, minerals, and faint herbal oils drifted through the air.

  Sen exhaled sharply.

  (Finally.)

  Without another thought, he pushed aside the noren and stepped inside.

  -Inside the Bathhouse-

  The moment Sen entered the bathhouse, the warm steam enveloped him, and the sound of water spshing against wooden walls filled the air.

  The space was simple yet soothing, with clean wooden floors and stone walls that exuded an air of rexation. Lanterns cast soft, flickering light on the tiled paths, while the air was thick with the scent of heated stones and fragrant herbs.

  At the entrance stood a young man—bare-chested, with a towel draped over his shoulder—standing behind a low wooden counter. His sharp eyes gnced up as Sen approached, sizing him up for a moment before returning to the work at hand.

  Sen paused, his gaze flicking around the room. Near the counter, a few patrons—humans, lizardfolk, and fox-ears—milled about, each carrying a towel and entering the changing area. Some had just finished their soak, while others were preparing to enter the bath. What caught Sen's attention was the simple exchange happening at the counter.

  One by one, the patrons approached, pulling two red coin from their pouches. The young man behind the counter accepted each coin without much ceremony, handing them a towel in exchange. The transactions were swift, no words exchanged beyond the sound of coins clinking.

  Sen observed the pattern carefully—two red coins per bath.

  As his turn came, the young man looked up, awaiting Sen's payment. Sen could feel the weight of the coin in his leather sack, his fingers brushing against the rough surface of the red coin. He was still adjusting to this new world, but the simplicity of the exchange was clear enough.

  Pulling out two red coins from his sack, he pced it on the counter with a slight grunt, his fingers brushing against the smooth coin's edge as he slid it toward the attendant.

  The young man took the coins, his expression unreadable but his movements swift and efficient. Without a word, he handed Sen a small towel, a simple piece of cloth that would likely serve both for washing and modesty in the bath.

  Sen took the towel, nodding slightly in acknowledgment of the exchange. He didn’t care much for the customs, but the immediate purpose was clear—he’d paid for his soak.

  As the attendant gestured toward a door leading deeper into the bathhouse, Sen made his way past the changing area, stepping carefully around the low wooden benches where others were stowing their belongings. The steam grew thicker the closer he got to the bath itself.

  Inside, the bath was a rge stone basin, filled with steaming water, the surface rippling gently as others soaked, their quiet murmurs blending with the sound of water flowing from the stone spouts. The atmosphere was calm, almost meditative, and Sen felt the urge to sink into the heat immediately.

  But first, he paused to watch. He noticed that some of the other bathers—a few humanoids with horns, a pair of elves with bright hair—were carefully washing themselves with small wooden buckets, filling them with water from the spouts and pouring it over their heads.

  The process was slow and deliberate, a routine of rexation and cleanliness that Sen had never quite learned to appreciate. He could just dive in, but the others seemed to take their time.

  (Should I follow their lead?)

  Sen eyed the steaming water longingly. His body was stiff, sore from the road, and the warmth promised a rare moment of peace. He decided to follow the others’ example.

  With a deep breath, Sen picked up a small wooden bucket, filling it with hot water from one of the stone spouts. The heat of the water nearly burned his fingers, but he gritted his teeth and poured it over his head, the sensation both painful and relieving.

  The steam rose around him, his muscles rexing under the warmth. The other bathers continued their quiet routine—some washed their faces, others massaged their arms, and a few just rested at the edge of the stone basin, their eyes closed in contentment.

  After a few moments, Sen stepped into the bath itself, the water reaching just past his waist. The heat seemed to melt away the aches and the tension in his bones, and he finally let out a long exhale.

  (That feels much better.)

  As he continued to rex, he picks up snippets of conversation around him, catching a few words that sound familiar.

  He closed his eyes again, allowing himself to float in the warm water, focusing on the sounds of the nguage around him. He could hear the nguage of humans, elves, fox-eared people, and even trolls—each unique, but all speaking the same base nguage, their words flowing naturally in this shared space.

  Sen focused on the sounds of their speech, each time noting a new word, a new phrase that might help him communicate better. His ears caught another exchange between the fox-eared woman and the lizardfolk.

  The woman stretched her arms, then said, "Watashi wa kyou mo isogashii kedo, subete wa daijoubu."

  The lizardfolk replied with a gruff ugh, "Sore wa yoku aru koto desu ne."

  Sen ran the phrases through his mind a few times, locking them in his memory. The flow and rhythm of the chat felt natural now. He wasn’t certain he grasped every detail, but he could catch the general idea of what they were saying.

  (So this is how they talk in their everyday lives…)

  The calming sounds of the bathhouse and its visitors gradually seeped into his bones, the warmth and the nguage merging seamlessly. Sen let out a satisfied sigh. It felt like he was slowly piecing together an understanding of this world, through both the nguage and the comforting simplicity around him.

  He took his time, soaking in the heat and relishing the tranquility he hadn’t experienced in ages. The nguage—though strange—was beginning to feel less like an obstacle and more like a pathway.

  Eventually, after a good while of soaking and listening, Sen rose to his feet. His muscles had loosened up, and the tension in his body had mostly faded.

  The water swirled gently around him as he took one st gnce at the bathhouse. He sensed a faint buzz of comprehension as he stepped out of the stone basin, his skin warm from the heat.

  -Back on the Streets-

  Stepping back into the crisp morning air, Sen felt light and rejuvenated. He wiped his face with the small towel he’d been given, feeling a quiet pride in making progress with the nguage.

  The soft sounds of Japanese still lingered in his mind, a constant reminder that his journey here was about more than just survival—it was about adapting, learning, and exploring this new world.

  The streets outside were now bustling, filled with the sounds of morning activity.

  People rushed to their shops, street vendors shouted to attract customers, and groups of travelers passed by, chatting about their pns for the day. Sen didn’t catch everything, but he had picked up enough to realize there was still a lot more to learn.

  With his sack slung behind his back, Sen took a step forward into the Streets.