CHAPTER 890: NOODLE GOD AND FISH SANDWICHES HALLUCINATIONS AFTER HOT SPRINGS

The trek back to the inn was a symphony of satisfied sighs and slightly off-key humming. Theo, still humming a tune about ramen-loving carp, nearly walked into a particularly sturdy-looking plum tree. "Whoa there, Theo!" Ayia chuckled, pulling him back from an involuntary embrace with the fruit-bearing branch. "Still dreaming of noodle recipes?"

"Can’t help it," Theo mumbled, rubbing his forehead. "That carp was practically radiating culinary genius. I bet it’s got a secret technique for making tonkotsu broth that would make even a mountain goat weep with joy."

"Speaking of weeping," Sam chimed in, stretching his arms wide, "my legs are about to stage a full-blown mutiny. I swear, I’ve walked enough miles today to circumnavigate this whole village. A hot spring sounds less like a luxury and more like a life-saving intervention at this point."

Kin, ever pragmatic, added, "And think of the fish-sandwich potential we’re missing out on if we don’t rest. My hypothetical carp is going to get all dry and un-sandwich-like if we don’t get moving."

Ryoko, who had been diligently sketching a cloud that vaguely resembled a disgruntled dumpling, looked up. "A hot spring sounds divine. I’m picturing myself soaking away all the existential dread of trying to capture that perfect angle of the cherry blossoms. My camera roll is basically a testament to the sheer effort involved in artistic documentation."

The conversation continued in this vein, a delightful blend of exhaustion and continued fanciful speculation, as they ambled along the path, the lingering scent of blossoms and damp earth filling the air. They agreed, with a unanimous and fervent enthusiasm usually reserved for discovering an undiscovered noodle dish, that a dip in the inn’s hot springs was precisely what the doctor – or perhaps the carp – ordered.

The Moon Blossom Village area had geothermal waters, so there were various hot springs places as they walked on the town streets. And the Flower Bunny Inn, as a top-tier inn in the village, had an amazing hot springs area.

Upon arrival, the inn’s exterior glowed like a freshly baked gingerbread house, its warm lights lovingly caressing every knot and whorl of its sturdy wooden bones. The place itself was the epitome of quiet reservation, the kind of silence that whispers, "Shhh, we’re contemplating the existential dread of dust bunnies." But then Theo and his friends breezed in, shattering that delicate peace with the joyous cacophony of a flock of hyperactive parrots who’d just discovered espresso. Their arrival was less an entrance and more an explosion of bubbling energy, like a shaken soda bottle finally let loose.

No sooner had they shed their travel-stained duds than they were off, a whirlwind of excited chatter and barely contained glee, to the inn’s legendary hot springs. Naturally, as all respectable hot spring establishments do, they’d erected the age-old, gender-segregating fortifications. Thus, Theo, Max, and Kin, with a knowing nod and a mischievous grin, split from the girls, marching into their respective, suds-filled territories.

The very first decree upon entering the steamy sanctuaries? A ritualistic, thorough scrub-down. This wasn’t just hygiene; it was a pre-soak sacrament, a purification rite before the true immersion. Anyone who dared to bypass this sacred cleansing would likely be banished to the chilly, less invigorating lukewarm ponds.

Theo, after a brief but intensely philosophical wrestling match with Max over the *exact* optimal angle for observing the enigmatic steam patterns – a debate that probably involved more dramatic hand gestures than actual science – finally made his way into the men’s section. He located a patch of water so perfectly positioned that it practically had a velvet rope around it, and sank in with a groan that was less human and more a symphony of pure, unadulterated bliss. Beside him, Max, bless his artistic soul, was already attempting to sculpt the grumpy fish’s legendary beard out of the spring’s abundant froth. "You see?" Max sputtered, a suds mustache clinging precariously to his upper lip. "It’s all about the texture, mate! This is clearly the genesis of a beard-soup, not some sort of beard-sandwich. The nuances are *crucial*."

Meanwhile, in the ethereal mist of the women’s section, Ayia, Shizuka, and their companions were also experiencing their own brand of aquatic nirvana. Ayia, with a sigh that could melt glaciers, let her head loll back against the pool’s edge. "You know," she murmured, her voice a gentle ripple in the otherwise hushed sanctuary, "this is *almost* as satisfying as stumbling upon the carp’s secret, highly guarded ramen recipe. Almost." Shizuka, typically a creature of quiet contemplation, offered a rare, radiant smile, the water’s warmth seemingly dissolving every last trace of her usual bashfulness. While Kaori, their big sister, was using the hot springs to relax the weariness accumulated throughout long hours working at the company.

Ryoko, determined not to be outdone by the seductive embrace of sleep, battled valiantly against her own eyelids, fighting off the blissful surrender the warm water offered after a day that had clearly tested the very fiber of her being. It was Aurora’s first time in a hot spring, so she was a little shy, but the other girls handled it well and made her feel comfortable to enjoy the wonders of the hot waters.

This shared immersion, this communal shedding of the day’s adventuring weariness, forged an unspoken, potent bond. They were all, in their unique and glorious ways, allowing the world’s petty anxieties – and the persistent, nagging pressure to capture that *perfect* photograph or decipher the ancient carp’s culinary secrets – to simply dissolve into the mineral-rich, steaming water.

Just like that, they spent the next hour soaking in the hot springs and relaxing their weary bodies from their day’s activity. But they couldn’t spend the whole night as passing too much time in hot water was bad for the body, and in some cases, the person could even faint. Plus, they combined to check the town’s spring festival that night. Thus, an hour later, they left the hot spring wearing traditional bath robes with flowery details.

Everyone had a satisfied face as they sat around the private inn’s garden. They were not in a hurry to go to the festival, so they decided to just relax after their hot springs bath for a while.

"Right then, operation ’De-prune-ification’ is complete," Theo announced, giving his floral-patterned robe a theatrical flourish, as if it were a magician’s cape. He surveyed the serene garden, a smug satisfaction radiating from him like heat from a well-fed stove. "My skin is now smoother than a politician’s promise, and my brain is officially reset. Next mission: conquer the spring festival and perhaps, just perhaps, find a ramen-tasting carp that will share its tonkotsu secrets with me. It’s a long shot, I know, but a man can dream, can’t he?"

Ayia, meticulously adjusting the knot of her robe, let out a soft giggle. "Oh, Theo, your culinary obsessions are truly a force of nature. I, on the other hand, have achieved a level of relaxation that I suspect even the most stoic of cherry blossom branches would envy. My existential dread has been thoroughly steamed away. Now, if only I could bottle this feeling and sell it as ’Instant Bliss’ – I’d be richer than that hypothetical carp."

Max, sprawled on a nearby bench, grunted in agreement, his limbs looking suspiciously like they might still attempt a breakaway if not properly anchored. "Richer than a carp? Mate, I’m just hoping for a decent bowl of noodles later. My stomach’s rumbling louder than a landslide. I’m convinced I could out-eat that carp if it were a contest, especially after that soak."

Kumiko, ever the voice of reason, chimed in, "And let’s not forget the hypothetical fish-sandwich potential. While Theo is busy interrogating aquatic life, some of us have practical concerns. I’ve been mentally cataloging all the dipping sauces available at the festival. A good sauce can elevate even the most mundane ingredient, you know. It’s all about balance, much like the perfectly calibrated temperature of that hot spring. Speaking of balance, Ryoko, have you managed to sketch any inspiration from your post-soak serenity?"

Ryoko, who had been gazing at the twilight sky with a look of profound contemplation, finally blinked. "Well," she began, a hint of amusement in her voice, "I’ve discovered that the gentle steam rising from the hot springs creates a rather pleasing bokeh effect when you squint. It’s like the universe is giving my artistic eye a spa day, too. And yes, Miko-chan, I’m already planning the composition for a series of paintings titled ’The Existential Anguish of Overly Relaxed Beings as They Hallucinated About Noodle Gods and Fish Sandwiches’."

There was silence for a while before everyone started laughing out loud.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

They didn’t expect Ryoko to say something so funny. Their bubbling energy and happy laughter filled the quiet inn with happiness.