Dating Underwater8. Midnight Serenity

By the time we got out of the hot springs and were properly dressed, Hisoka had missed the last ferry back to Hiroshima. He never planned on spending the night and only booked one room. We had a good time talking naked in the water, but I was not about to let him sleep in my room. It was not a matter of trusting him. There was nothing aggressive about him and I never doubted for a second that I could easily take him in a shouting match. The problem that night was that I could not trust myself. Hisoka was a kind and sincere man who happened to look really good naked. Had we slept in the same room, he would have considered it inappropriate as a gentleman to suggest any indiscretions against my honor. But I might have jumped him.

As it turned out, he was never going to take the ferry and had no intention of spending the night. He took a private boat back to Hiroshima. He had a big meeting in Tokyo the next morning and wanted to sleep at home rather than commute across the country. That sounded reasonable to me.

My night was more relaxing. After Hisoka left, I spent the evening at the hotel. There would have been no point in going back to the village. Even the bars were closed by then. I thought about reading a book and going to sleep early, but my mind kept wandering back to the mineral water. We have heated swimming pools, hot tubs and all kinds of spas in Hong Kong, but no natural hot springs.

The women's shower/locker room was empty and I wondered if anyone would be in the pools. Showering off all the minerals from last time, it crossed my mind that the hot springs might not be open all night. This was an island where everything closed early. Had I been in the United States, it might have suddenly occurred to me that I was naked and alone in a part of the building that was deserted and might be closed. In my country, that is either a red flag or the beginning of a horror movie. But this was Japan. Getting Marion Craned in the shower is not the Japanese way.

When I walked out of the locker room, none of the doors were locked. Nothing prevented me from going to any of the hot springs. Had it all been closed, the shower most likely would have also been closed. The springs themselves were natural. Turning them off was never an option. Instead of a handful of senior citizens relaxing in the water, there was a single young man. He was in the hottest pool, far enough away from where I wanted to be, but he was probably my age. This might not have been a red flag, but it definitely looked like the beginning of a pornographic movie. And we were in Japan. Japanese porn can get pretty weird.

Fortunately, he was not a half man/half octopus and he did not even acknowledge my presence. He was busy cooking in his pot and might not have even seen me through the steam. After I dropped my towel and sat on my rock, I forgot he was even there.

The hot springs were always nice, but at night when there was almost no one there, it was more peaceful. Other than the simmering water and a light breeze rustling the trees, there was a silence that was as relaxing as the pool. I could see why the Japanese invented zazen.