Kenji blinked. “The sign? That’s just old advertising. They don’t actually—”
“I know,” she interrupted, then flushed. “I mean. I’m looking for someone. They said to meet here. A man who uses the mazome soap.” Mazome Soap de Aimashou
The sign outside the bathhouse said, in faded, hand-painted letters: Let’s meet with mixed soap. Kenji blinked
“It’s the same recipe,” he said. “From the same shop. I never switched.” ” she interrupted
She’d laughed and kissed his cheek.