“Dad, can I go to the city with Tim today?” Koharu asked during breakfast.

“If you wish, dear. Then you and Tim could take a new batch of papers with you and deliver it to the market,” Yoshida replied.

“Thank you, Dad. I love you so much,” she answered happily.

“Then, after breakfast, you should take Tim for a tour of our paper production workshop. Please also wrap up the papers ready for delivery,” Yoshida asked her.

“Sure, Dad,” she replied.

We ate our breakfast quickly, especially Koharu, who seemed to be enjoying her new playmate:  namingly me.

“No need to rush, my dear. We have plenty of time. Actually, you two could drop by Grandpa’s place and stay for a night before going to the city,” Zuda suggested.

“Good idea, Mom,” Koharu replied, without slowing down.

“OK, now I’m done. Shall we go to the workshop?” she asked me as soon as she had finished.

“Wait, dear. Tim hasn’t finished eating yet,” Zuda said, gently reprimanding her.

“Alright, Mom,” she said and turned to look at me, as if urging me to hurry up and finish my breakfast.

It felt as if Koharu had turned into a little girl. Her eyes were sparkling and innocent, very different to the Koharu I had been in bed with last night and this morning.

“I think I’m full now,” I said, smiling at her.

“Let’s go then!” Koharu said, took me by the hand and started walking ahead.

“Thank you for the breakfast, Zuda, it was very delicious,” I said politely, expressing my genuine gratitude.

Their house was on a low hill. Looking down from the house, I could make out a workshop by the canal, slightly larger than the house itself. It was built in a rectangular shape with a thatched roof, and was open without any walls on either two sides. Inside, there were six rectangular wells, a stove, and a large boiling pot. At the far end, there were some square racks set up against the wall.

“We built the workshop in exactly this spot because the process of producing paper requires a lot of water,” explained Koharu.

“What do you need water for?” I asked.

“Mostly to soak, boil, and ferment the paper pulp,” she explained.

“That sounds fun. Is it difficult to produce paper?” I asked.

“Not at all. But it does require some specific techniques. I’ll show you later.”

“Where do you get the paper pulp from?”

“It comes from the trunk of a tree named Dulwah. We peel off the bark, soak it in water, then boil it until it softens. After that, we mash it and add some water, so that it becomes a pulp puree. Then, we pour the pulp in these grates over there to form thin sheets,” she explained proudly and pointed to the paper racks.

“And here is the finished product,” Koharu said as she took some sheets down from the rack to demonstrate.

“Our paper is known as the best paper in town. My father uses a unique technique. When the pulp becomes a concentrated puree, he mixes it with a kind of resin. When it’s almost dry, he rolls it with a big stone roller until it is smooth. This is why our paper is extraordinarily fine and durable. All artists in the city are very fond of it,” she said while she rolled up a stack of paper.

“Let me help you,” I offered.

“Thank you,” she stopped and gave me a warm smile.

We gathered dozens of paper sheets into a pile of around a palm span’s thickness, then tightly rolled it and tied it together with rope. Koharu, who guided me through the procedure step-by-step, wrapped a roll of paper with a large piece of cloth around the roll, so it wouldn’t get dirty during the transportation. She tied the rope at both ends and attached it to a shoulder strap which was specifically designed to carry the roll. It was similar to the strap of a backpack, with a hook to fasten a rope around the paper roll, so it was tightly held in place. Once she had finished the first roll, she asked me to work on the other roll.

“Can you also carry a roll?” Koharu asked.

“Sure, I can,” I replied.

“Good, this way, we’ll make the best use of our trip. The more we can carry, the better,” she added.

“One roll weighs about 30 kilograms,” I said, evaluating my strength.

“Usually, when we go to the city, my parents and I each carry a roll,” she said.

“Won’t your parents come with us this time?”

“No, they are busy growing a new lot of Dulwah.”

“Don’t you have to help them?”

“That’s not necessary. It’s not hard work, but we have to finish growing it this season to be in time for the next round of production,” she explained.

When we were finished with packing the two paper rolls, she took my hands and pulled me close, held me tight and kissed me. I couldn’t resist and kissed her back passionately.

“I’m so glad to be reunited with you again. I love you,” Koharu said softly.

“I love you, too,” I replied.

“Let’s get back to the house and prepare for the trip,” she continued.

“Alright,” I agreed.

I lifted a roll of paper onto Koharu’s back, then another onto mine. It was actually quite heavy, but seeing Koharu, who was rather petite, carry it with ease, I told myself I would be fine.

“We are ready, Mom,” Koharu shouted before reaching the house.