Hakone-Yumoto Onsen With my fingertips still warm from the bath, I lingered over the marquetry pattern

At dusk in mid-January, I stepped out of the hot spring and looked out over the Hayakawa River in Hakone-Yumoto. The cold air brushed my cheeks, but the warmth from my bath still lingered inside me. I let out a quiet sigh, and my breath formed a little cloud in front of me. That alone made me feel the detour had been worth it.

In my hands was a small box made with Hakone marquetry. I’d chosen it after my soak because I was drawn to it. I wanted another look at the fine pattern, so I lifted it in both hands and held it to the light. Different shades of wood sat side by side, forming neat little shapes.

As I followed one shape with my eyes, another appeared beside it. I tried to find the pattern I’d been looking at a moment ago, turning the box back a little to check. I was trying to focus, but my gaze kept wandering somewhere else. It was such a small box—how could it have so much to look at?

When I looked up from the box, the Hayakawa River came into view. I’d been studying those tiny patterns, so I was a little surprised by how open the view was. I readjusted my grip on the box as I listened to the river, and felt like I was enjoying more than just a soak—I was enjoying my time in town, too.

When I get home, I’ll show this box to my friend. She’ll probably ask what I’m going to put in it. I chose it for its pattern, so I hadn’t decided what to keep inside yet. It made me chuckle again: I wanted to treasure the box before I’d figured out what to put in it.

I watched the river a little longer, then put the box away. My fingertips were still warm from the bath, and the marquetry pattern I’d studied again and again was still clear in my mind. I hope that every time I open the box at home, I’ll remember this evening, too. I’m so glad I stopped in Hakone-Yumoto before heading back.