Tsuki no Tsuki

It had been cold outside the manor, and dying took a toll on a man. Although, he reflected as he sank to his nose in hot water, the afterlife could be much worse. Soapy scents permitted the steamy air, as attendants scurried to and fro getting ready for the lively evening crowd. He supposed he might be able to drink here come sundown. Now was the time for quieter patrons to relax and enjoy the heated onsen, as Fortune was taking full advantage of. You really shouldn't ask a man to die without having a good bath.

He'd casually taken both directions and bath tokens from a villager on his route to the palatial establishment, and amused himself by watching a young attractive attendant fumble with the eighty leather armor pieces he had stripped and left in their care. Vaguely, he worried his blades might rust in the humidity, and made a note to acquire some oil. Dunking under, he washed the last of the damp mist scent from his death journey out of his hair and thought about his next move. From the sound of things, he fighting should be underway shortly. He had more than enough time to get the lay of the land, scout the other fighters, and find the rest of the gods before the first match sprung. But even if he did not-he meant to be ready. Ready, and clean.

The soft steps of the bath house owner did not surprise Fortune, however, the lit of her voice caught him off guard. He had not expected the bathhouse owner to be a woman. Or a god. Or naked. Turning, his stomach gave a lurch as he beheld the goddess, unclothed and beautiful. It was very hard to keep his eyes from following her tattoo.

He at least had the sense to look slightly abashed. At being caught, or possibly his own stupidity. He flipped over and rested his arms and head on the edge of the bath. “My apologies, my lady.” How had she known he had stolen the bath tokens? It was hard to summon the urge to be punky when he was so relaxed. “I’m a newly departed soul, fated for combat in the first tournament rounds. Would you begrudge me this small pleasure?”

"If you let me stay, I'll be in your debt."

Fortune closed his eyes as a small damper of ash coated the bridge of his nose. He was trying very hard not to smile. Something about this woman intrigued him to no end. Reluctantly, he slid his arms from the tub’s wooden sides and heaved his wiry frame from the steaming water.
In disgrace or not, the bathing adept rushed forward with his affects, more out of habit than deference. Fortune shamelessly dressed while deciding on a comeback. His first notion was, of course, to refuse and swagger out. But he sensed there might be a better way to play this.
“Who’s Yurei?” He finally asked, slipping on his gloves.
“I-“

POP

The rouge was gone, a whiff of sulfur and dragon hanging in the otherwise pristine bathhouse.