At first, she thought she had fallen into the pond. And yet, the water felt strangely shallow.

No, not merely shallow.

Far too shallow.

A chill dampness clung to the back of her skirt as she slowly opened her eyes. Instead of sinking into a pond, she found herself sitting awkwardly in a small puddle no larger than a rain-filled hollow in the earth.

For several moments, she simply stared.

Then she looked up. The temple grounds she had been standing in only moments ago were gone.

The crimson maple leaves that had painted the autumn landscape had vanished as though swept away by a dream.

In their place stood vibrant green trees, their leaves lush and full beneath the glaring sun. The heat pressed against her skin—so intense that one might have mistaken it for the height of summer.

"...What?"

The word escaped her lips before she realized it.

She scrambled to her feet and turned in a slow circle. The tourists who had crowded the temple paths were nowhere to be seen.

Not a single voice.

Not a single footstep.

Only the rustling of leaves stirred the silence.

"Satoko?"

She called out once.

Then again.

And again.

No answer came.

An uneasy feeling began to creep into her chest. The world suddenly felt too large.

Too quiet.

As though she had been left behind by everyone else.

Her heartbeat quickened.

Where... Where am I?

"Excuse me, young lady. Are you all right?"

The voice came from behind.

Sai nearly jumped.

Turning around, she found a woman standing there, perhaps in her forties, dressed in a plain kimono.

The sight was so unexpected that Sai froze. The woman looked as though she had stepped directly out of a historical drama.

"Miss? Can you hear me?"

The concern in the woman's voice finally pulled Sai back to herself.

Ah. She had completely stopped thinking.

"Y-Yes! I'm fine. I just... slipped and fell into a pond."

"A pond?"

The woman tilted her head.

"There isn't a pond anywhere around here, as far as I know."

Sai glanced down. The woman was right.

Aside from the puddle she had landed in, there wasn't a trace of water nearby. The woman studied her for a moment before smiling kindly.

"You look troubled. Why don't you come rest at my house for a bit? It's nothing special, but it'll be more comfortable than standing out here."

Sai hesitated. Her skirt was soaked.

She had no idea where she was.

And at the moment, this woman was the only familiar presence in an utterly unfamiliar world.

Besides... she didn't seem dangerous.

At least, Sai hoped not.

"I'd appreciate that very much."

"Good. Come along, then."

The woman introduced herself as Yoshi, and together they began walking.

"I run a small eatery nearby," Yoshi explained.

"Nothing fancy. Just simple meals for travelers passing through."

"What's the restaurant called?"

Yoshi laughed.

"A grand name would be wasted on a place like mine. It's only a tiny shop. We've never bothered naming it."

The warmth in her voice made Sai smile despite herself.

As they talked, the forest gradually began to thin.

And then she saw it.

A town.

Wooden houses lined the road ahead.

Smoke drifted lazily into the sky.

People moved through the streets dressed in garments she had only ever seen in period dramas.

Sai's footsteps slowed.

The scenery before her felt impossibly familiar.

Not because she had seen it before.

But because she had seen it countless times on television.

This looked less like a town and more like the set of a historical drama.

No. Surely not.

She couldn't jump to conclusions.

There had to be another explanation.

There had to be.

Trying to sound casual, she glanced toward Yoshi.

"Kyoto must get a lot of visitors, doesn't it?"

Yoshi blinked.

"Kyoto?"

The woman repeated the word as though hearing it for the first time.

"Hmm. That's an unusual way of saying it. Most people just say the Capital or the Imperial City."

Sai's heart skipped.

"I-I meant that! That's what I meant."

She laughed awkwardly.

Yoshi accepted the explanation without question.

But inside, Sai's thoughts had become a whirlwind.

No way.

No way, right?

Trying to steady herself, she asked another question.

"By the way... what year is it?"

"This year?"

Yoshi frowned thoughtfully.

"If I remember correctly, it's the second year of Kōji."

The second year of Kōji.

Kōji 2.

The year 1556.

The Sengoku period.

For a moment, the world seemed to tilt beneath her feet.

She knew the words.

She understood what they meant.

Yet reality refused to catch up.

The Warring States era?

Really?

How was that even possible?

More importantly...

What was she supposed to do now?

"Here we are."

Yoshi's cheerful voice broke through her thoughts.

"My humble home."

A small thatched-roof house stood before them.

It was not large.

Nor particularly impressive.

Yet there was something comforting about it.

Something gentle.

The interior was simple.

A kitchen, a few floor cushions for guests, and a modest dining area.

Calling it a restaurant felt generous.

It resembled a family home far more than a business.

"It's lovely."

The words came naturally.

The house felt strangely nostalgic.

Warm.

Welcoming.

As though it had been waiting quietly for someone to return.

Yoshi laughed softly.

"Thank you."

Then she rose to her feet.

"Wait here a moment. I'll fetch one of my daughter's old kimono."

"Oh, no, really, you don't have to—"

But Yoshi had already disappeared into the back of the house.

A short while later, she returned carrying folded garments.

When she handed them over, Sai froze.

She had never worn a kimono by herself in her entire life.

If she couldn't put it on, would that seem strange?

Probably.

Very strange.

Yet she genuinely had no idea how.

How was she supposed to explain that?

"Um..."

As she struggled to find the right words, Yoshi smiled gently.

Without asking questions.

Without demanding explanations.

She simply helped.

Before long, the kimono had been properly arranged.

Yoshi stepped back to admire her work.

"I thought it might be a little small, but it fits perfectly."

"Thank you."

Sai lowered her gaze.

"But... are you sure? This belonged to your daughter, didn't it?"

Something softened in Yoshi's eyes.

For a moment, her smile became tinged with sadness.

"My daughter passed away from illness while she was still young."

The words were spoken quietly.

Without bitterness.

Without complaint.

"My husband died in battle many years before that."

Only Yoshi remained.

Alone in the little house.

Sai did not know what to say.

No words felt adequate.

Yet Yoshi's expression remained peaceful.

As though time had taught her how to carry sorrow with grace.

Then, quite suddenly, she smiled.

"If you'd like, why not stay here with me?"

Sai blinked.

"Stay?"

"You don't have anywhere to go, do you?"

The question caught her completely off guard.

"How did you know?"

She hadn't explained anything.

Hadn't revealed anything.

She had even managed her customer-service smile.

Or so she thought.

Yoshi grinned triumphantly.

"A mother's intuition."

The answer came without a trace of hesitation.

And somehow...

Somehow, it made perfect sense.

Sai found herself laughing.

Yoshi laughed too.

The sound filled the little house with warmth.

And in that moment, Sai made her decision.

"If you'll have me..."

She bowed her head.

"I'd be grateful to stay with you."

"Of course."

Yoshi's smile widened.

"The pleasure's mine."

And so, in a world five centuries removed from her own, Sai found herself welcomed into a small roadside eatery.

Beginning the next day, she would help run the little restaurant alongside Yoshi.

Neither of them yet knew how profoundly that decision would change their lives.

Thank you for reading! Your comments, likes, and support mean a lot to me and help keep this series going.