Having washed and rinsed herself thoroughly, Satsuki sank into the warm waters of the hot springs with a content smile.

The baths all to herself?! Bliss! Absolute bliss!

But alas for her, she would not be alone for long.

Hikaru stepped out into the bathing area. If he was surprised to see Satsuki, it showed only in a brief slowing in his steps, and perhaps a brief widening in his eyes. But he said nothing as he carefully set aside the towel, likewise sinking into the water.

He sank deep, going in until the water was up to his chin, his hair floating all about him. His white lock seemed to resist becoming submerged, floating atop the surface like sea foam. He stayed there, breathing slowly in, slowly out.

And then he rose, a few inches, at least. "Togashi-sama." He acknowledged his bathing partner, pale-eyed gaze drifting over towards her despite himself.

Satsuki, who had been lounging with her head resting on the edge of the pool with the towel as an impromptu pillow, lifted her head to see who had joined her.

"Ah, hey, Hikaru-san." She waved, clearly not bothering with moving or doing something like covering herself more. Her own hair had been braided and pinned up like a halo around her head, to avoid it getting into the bath-water. The princesses of the Crane were probably dainty flowers underneath all their robes, with soft supple skin that barely had any muscle underneath. Certainly not visible. The Dragon princess on the other hand seemed more like a warrior in her build, with muscle-definition fitting of an archer or a swordsman - one built for grace and agility, rather than strength. And then there was those vividly colored tattoos that were stark contrasts against her otherwise pale skin; the crane with its wings spread over her collarbones, the dragon wrapped around her arm and all the way down to her hand.

"... Your hair doesn't seem to be very cooperative," she said as she pointed to his white lock of hair. "It has a mind of its own."

Hikaru's eyes did trace over Satsuki's tattoos. How could a Crane not appreciate artistry? But mostly he looked at those strange eyes of hers. For his part, Hikaru's form was taut; fit, but with an almost visible readiness to move if required, and entirely lacking in scars.

He blinked slowly, one hand coming up to trap the errant lock. "Yes." He said. "Or rather, this part. It has always been such, even since I was a child. It was the despair of my mother. She spent hours and hours trying to make it behave." His lips shifted, just a little; a smile, perhaps?"

He looked at Satsuki again. "I had it when I was found. Before that... I can't remember. I somehow think not." He pursed his lips a moment. "May I ask what your earliest memory is?"

"Ahh, sounds like a mystery of sorts then. Yeah... I can get that. Hair being difficult that way." She tilted her head as she eyed him with unabashed curiosity. "You could always dye all your hair white if you don't want it to stick out? Since I'm guessing you've already tried dying that white lock."

Still, she liked seeing that smile.

"Earliest memory, huh? Hmmmm..." Sitting up a bit more straight, Satsuki craned her head back slightly to look upwards. "I remember mother coming home. I don't remember her being gone as such, when she went to help free uncle Hisomu... but I remember when she came home. Father so very rarely shows how he feels though not in a cold way, and is almost never surprised, but then... I just remember that he seemed to be so relieved. As if our entire home had held its breath before without us noticing, but then exhaled in great relief."

An idle smile settled on her lips. "I suppose that is a strange memory, but it's something that's stuck with me since. But what about you? Turnabout is fair play!"

"Hmmm..." Hikaru turned his gaze on his lock of hair. "Perhaps." He looked at her, lips curling up. "But perhaps that would just make all my hair behave like this lock."

He settled comfortably into the water as she spoke, leaning back, eyes closing. "I see." He said. A few moments, and his eyes slowly opened. "I think I understand that. The silent oppression, the worrying... the relief that came when it was gone. I expect your mother felt it too, even if she wasn't there." Hikaru had no children, but what mother would not be relieved to return to her children, her husband? His forehead creased as he thought of Nanzi and Doji, Ananzihime and Hidananzi...

Gently, Hikaru shook his head. "It is fair. But the first thing I can remember is Doji looking down at me. It was hard to tell, but I think she was smiling... the sun behind her. The rest of her retinue was there, but I only remember her." He looked at Satsuki. "It was just after the fire that I am told claimed the rest of my birth family. But I can't remember any of them. And I must have been nearly five. I wonder if that is strange, that I cannot remember earlier than that."

"Maybe," she snickered, trying to imagine what he would look like with white hair. For some reason, she thought it would go nicely with the whites and blues that the Crane wore.

"But I can't recall if I noticed father worrying, or that my brother and I were worried either. Which might be why I was so surprised to remember the sense of relief." For a moment, she felt she could catch that concern behind his brow. Which she understood, perhaps even more so now.

"Remembering the first one to find you, sounds natural. And Doji is very pretty and amazing." While she had confessed her anxiety about not disappointing Doji's high standards, she also spoke with a genuine sincerity of her aunt's finer qualities.

"I... hmmm... I've heard before of some people who are unable to remember something from their past, because it is too painful to remember - that the soul simply just shuts it out to avoid being hurt. It was, is, similar for a friend of mine, whom likewise was taken in by the Saru - mother has declared that all orphans will be cared for in our lands. Have you tried meditation perhaps to look inwards, for answers?"

"She is." Hikaru's eyes brightened, just a little. "Truly, there is none like her, in this world or in any other. It has been both an honor and a blessing to serve her..." Clearing his throat, Hikaru briefly averted his gaze. When he looked back, his pale eyes were back to normal. "I admire her very much." He said.

"I have not..." Hikaru frowned thoughtfully. "In a way, I meditate with my art. There is something about painting especially, that allows the mind to drift. Or when I lose myself in playing the flute, and I realize the sun has gone down..."

He looked at Satsuki, tilting his head ever so slightly. "Is meditation like that? Or... how does it work?" He made a vague gesture with one hand, scattering some droplets.

"It can be a form of meditation, yes," she nodded. "Meditation can be a lot of things. Most people do it similarly to how you do; engaging in a light activity that allows them to just... clear their mind, relax, find their center."

Satsuki chewed her lower lip in thought for a moment. "And then you have a next level, which is a deeper form of meditation - it's very similar to the tea ceremony I know auntie Doji has taught. It is... in a way it's restorative. Yes, it's relaxing too like the previous step, but in the way that you feel a sense of rejuvenation afterward. I've seen some of the artisans of the Saru give the kind of performance that makes you feel like that too. As if you just awoke through the performance, with a fresh bath and clean clothes - ready for the day!"

Her arms crossed as she became a bit more serious again. "And then there is guided meditation. This is something that can be done for specific things... like it can be done in training to better understand a problem or understanding a technique not yet mastered, but I suppose it could also be done for trying to remember things. Unlocking memories, in a way, yes."

"I see." Hikaru considered a few moments, then gave one of his tiny smiled. "I would like to experience one of those performances sometime. If only I had not been required to turn back so early into Dragon Lands..." His eyes went distant again. "Yes, a fresh bath. Refreshing at the end of a difficult day as well." He brushed one hand across his face, leaving droplets running down his even features.

"Guided meditation..." Hikaru said the words slowly, as though testing them. His thoughtful frown returned. "Is this something you have done? Does one person guide another, or... is a person their own guide?"

Hikaru's white strand of hair was floating again. In fact, it had drifted forward, as though reaching towards Satsuki. Lips shifting, Hikaru reached out, pulling it back to rest over his bare shoulder. For the moment, anyway.

Her serious nature broke temporarily witnessing the errant hair that did as it pleased, and she hid a snicker behind a raised hand. "I think your hair is attracted to me," she said teasingly, but then focused herself once more.

"Guided meditation is when you have someone guiding you through it. Usually a teacher. You'll sit together, and as you close your eyes to find your center, you treat the voice of the one guiding you as the anchor-point. Or focus. Following the voice, you'll be guided through the obstacles in your mind... this is something my teachers did with me as I learned the ways of a shugenja, to help me better focus on finding my connection with the elements. I've heard it said that my mother's tribe would do something similar to guide the spirit of a spiritwalker back to their body, if they had been gone for too long."

Hikaru looked at her a moment. And then, almost reluctantly, he smiled. "I apologize for my hair's manners." He said, dipping his head a little. "In the baths is hardly the place for expressing such sentiment." He gave the white lock a bit of an extra tuck back.

He listened as she spoke, his expression neutral, his pale eyes interested. "I see..." He said. After a few seconds, he took a deep breath, shoulders rising and falling. "In the Crane, we focus on external expression. What is inside, we create outside, as painting or poetry..." his eyes flickered briefly at the word poetry. "That requires us to look inward. But to go that deep..."

His eyes briefly traced her tattoos once more. "Have you tried to create art after meditating? I wonder what it would be like."

She chuckled but let that subject drop. Hikaru seemed easily embarrassed about his white lock... which she could understand.

"Hmm... no I don't think I have. I'm more a performer than an artist, myself. Like... I like music and dancing, compared to sitting still. Would it work for that too?"

"I am not surprised to hear that." Hikaru said mildly, considering her. Yes, she was rather full of energy.

He nodded. "But yes, of course. Is music any less an expression than painting or sculpting, because one is fleeting, and the other is not? Some would say the ephemeral nature of music or a dance makes it all the more to be valued, because it is unique. A moment once passed is gone..." Once more his expression turned pensive.

Shaking it off, he looked at Satsuki again. "I judge my flute playing better than my dancing, as much as one can judge such things, but I can dance. Is that your preferred method of expression?"

The pensiveness struck her as odd, and she regarded him with some curious concern.

"... That, or playing the guqin. Mother taught me lots of different instruments, but I like the guqin the best. Just the... complexity and layers of sounds. I like it a lot." She nodded firmly and then tapped her collarbone, or rather, the tattoo there. "Father said that the crane, while a symbol of longevity and grace, is also a mark of artistic beauty and expression - much like his dear sister, Doji. Maybe I was blessed a bit with her talent, since I have this too." A sense of admiration was in her tone with those words.

"Is anyone arranging some musical contest or something one of these days? I think that would be pretty great, compared to... drinking-games and rowdy parties."

Hikaru saw the concerned look, and gave the tiniest shake of his head. "It is a very fine instrument indeed. I would like to hear you play it sometime." Hikaru said. His pale eyes traced the lines of her tattoo. "And the artistry of your tattoo is very fine, as well. I have heard of such art, but this is the first time I have seen it." His eyes came back up to find hers.

He smiled, just a little. "I quite agree. Loud parties are not for me. Pursing his lips thoughtfully, he considered. "I have not heard that there is. Doji-sama is arranging a play. I understand that I will be playing the role of Lord Nanzi in it." He paused a moment. It was a strange thought.

Eyebrows going up, he looked at Satsuki. "Perhaps you might take a role in it, as your mother?"

"Ah yeah, I heard that there was going to be a play too! I... well, my cousin is good at convincing people sometimes, and I kinda said yes? I'll be a more minor role though, an Imperial samurai. I think it's supposed to be uncle Sora, so I'll have to do my best to imitate him!"

It was going to be a disaster one way or another probably. Because she seemed the type to be wholly committed to imitating Sora most accurately.

She held up her arm and scooted closer, clearly unconcerned about their state of undressed in the baths. "They're quite beautiful, yes?" The way she held her tattooed arm out, Satsuki clearly wanted Hikaru to get a better look. "It's not as amazing as the ones father have, but this is his work; I've seen people from tribes that would use tattoos for decorations too, but they don't have the colors or details or artistry that father puts into his work."

"She is." Hikaru said dryly, then blinked. "Wait, you're going to be playing Jiyo Sora-sama?" He shook his head, considering that a few moments, and then the corners of his lips curled up. "I very much look forward to seeing that, Togashi-sama." He murmured. The thought of the bright and energetic Satsuki playing the dour older man... would she do something to change her eye?

His reverie was interrupted by Satsuki suddenly moving closer, displaying her tattoos. And skin. Hikaru's gaze briefly shifted away, and he took a deep breath. A moment later, and he turned back, his expression its usual polite interest. "Quite beautiful..." He said, eyes tracing the tattoos; up close, one could more easily distinguish the fine details. "Who was the artist? Someone in the Dragon? Your mother or father themselves?"

Perhaps dislodged by his headshake, his white lock of hair had escaped his shoulder, and drifted back towards Satsuki.

Her skin was indeed beautiful too. Glistening from the water. And the coiled dragon, shimmering in firey gold seemed to reflect a light that was not present in the baths.

"My father is the artist. He personally bestows such tattoos to his most talented students. Like the crane manifests those blessings of grace and artistry, so does the dragon manifest the blessings of the heaven and the heavenly dragons."

Spotting the errant white hair again, Satsuki this time reached down and with a gentle motion let the hair drift over her finger before raising it carefully from the water.

"You have a touch of something beyond Ningen-do upon you, Hikaru-san. It probably explains why this hair seems to have a mind of its own."

Hikaru appreciated beauty. As a Crane, how could he not? And so if he allowed his pale eyes to admire some of that strange, enticing glisten, Hikaru felt no shame for it. Could he capture such beauty in a poem, or on a canvass? He might dare to try.

Slowly, his gaze swept back up. "I am not surprised to hear that. The touch of the Kami is something I have seen many times, but I never tire of it. There is something divine in your tattoos, then..."

He paused, lips briefly parting, then pressing together as her fingers found his hair, soft to the touch, and almost tingling her fingers. He met her gaze, something strange in his pale eyes. "I have often wondered that. I thought it might be the touch of Lady Doji on me. Or perhaps the mark of destiny. I am a strong believer in destiny."

Another brief hesitation. "Does your skin shine as it does for a similar reason, Togashi-sama?" He asked softly.