Mr Atsuko's Onsen

Excellence Award in the 'Top Secret 2016' competition

Mr Atsuko had never thought of leaving before. He was a man of duty, a man who saw things through. Month after month, through the window of his family’s popular bathhouse, the Atsuko Family Onsen, he watched the familiar view change with the seasons. His pint-sized Suzuki, gleaming yellow in the fall, by winter had disappeared under a mountain of silver-tipped snow, only to be revealed again in the spring, blanketed in a delicate pink veil of cherry blossoms. But this morning, as he gazed through the glazed glass of the front window to the white-blanketed world beyond, he briefly pondered his options. There were not as many as he would have liked.
Mr Atsuko was an honest man, grey haired and stooped, born and raised in this very house. He remained, as his father had before him, to tend to the family onsen: its milky blue waters steaming up to envelop the ancient camphor boughs above that held up the red tiled roof and offered a view to the snow-capped mountain range beyond. This was home.
Mr Atsuko lived alone with Kiku, his ginger and white cat, and truth be told on some days he felt lonely. Fewer locals came to soak their bodies in the warm waters of the onsen these days. Instead, the thermal waters were populated by tourists soothing their bodies after a day breathless, racing about on skis. Mr Atsuko shook his head at the thought.
He missed the old days, the bowing of heads, the shuffling of feet in soft slippers, the burble of convivial conversation rising above the steam and the gentle tinkle of hand-painted teacups filled with sencha. Smile and bow as he did, he had never really enjoyed serving the tourists. They traipsed snow through the onsen, they showered after – not before – entering the healing waters and once, he even found men and women in the same tub! But they were his livelihood, so he grumbled in silence.
Shuffling towards the front door, Kiku winding between his legs, he sighed reluctantly flipping the sign over, from shimatteiru (Clozed) to aiteiru (Opun).
But today was different, and for a moment he was as frozen to the spot as an icicle dangling from the cherry tree outside. He flipped the sign back over again. Shimatteiru (Clozed).
He gathered Kiku and opened the front door. Without haste or fear, he made his way down the familiar pathway to his pint-sized Suzuki, brushing just enough snow off the windscreen and door to get in. He buckled Kiku onto the seat beside him, who let out a small meow before curling up obligingly. He turned on the engine, taking a moment to look up at the cherry blossom tree, small buds beginning to show through the melting snow.
He had always thought he would remain at the Atsuko family onsen forever, but he realised, he was wrong. He had more options than he thought, like taking his cat for a drive on the open road ahead.

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