Ichiro placed the stiff and bristly thing called a 'toothbrush' back into the cup as Kumiko had instructed, feeling glad that the foul herbal taste had left his mouth while turning to face the large basin that was apparently a bathtub.

It seemed to be made of the same smooth, white material as the sink and toilet, and he spent a few moments admiring its loveliness before leaning over to turn on the taps.

He relished the feel of warm water against his skin once more, then pulled his hand away once it got too hot.

In the time that it took for the water to rise to his preferred level, he walked over to inspect the pile of clothes Kumiko had laid out for him. He picked up one item and unfolded it to find that it was a pair of trousers.

They somewhat resembled the ones he had worn while helping his father with business. Back then, he had envied those members of the upper class who could flaunt their wealth by wearing expensive robes when people like him were doomed to dress in drab garments that irritated the skin in summer.

However, now that he'd realized that this kosode wasn't befitting his station, it felt like he had committed a great sin. Therefore, it was only fitting that he take it off as soon as possible, and since nobody else but Kumiko knew of this crime, he figured that burning it would be atonement enough.

He turned off both taps above the bathtub and hurriedly stripped off his clothes, beginning with the sash around his waist. He placed it carefully on the trousers before casting off his robes with considerably less finesse.

They flopped to the floor, and he finished by removing his loincloth. It would need to be washed later, and although Kumiko had neglected to provide him with a replacement, he was ready to improvise.

He entered the tub and slowly got down into a reclining position. The water's warmth swept over him like a blanket, and he tilted his head to one side while closing both eyes in pleasure. Heavens, this feels so good...

The only thing he knew of that felt better than a warm bath was making love to his wife. However, since she had thus far been unwilling to join him in bed, all he could do instead was revisit old memories.

Kumiko was lovely enough when clothed, but her naked form was on another level. He'd never ceased to be amazed each time she undressed, for everything was perfect, from her small but shapely breasts to the tips of her pretty feet.

As if that were not arousing enough, feeling her soft skin right against his was pure ecstasy. He'd kiss and caress her body to his heart's desire, and the way she'd moan in response would only encourage him to go further.

He'd keep at it until she was wet down below, thus making it easier to push himself inside and thrust until he was thoroughly spent.

The night of their wedding had been no exception. As he'd reached climax, he had heard his mother utter something incomprehensible in the next room. What it was, he never found out because she had avoided direct conversation with him for a few days.

Now, Kumiko was the only person he had left, and he wanted to make every moment with her count. He'd been slacking off these past two days, but now that this bath was revitalizing him, he felt more than ready to be a better man than she remembered.

He opened his eyes and splashed some water on his shoulders and upper arms before an odd sensation came over him. It was akin to the tense feeling one experienced when snuck upon, so he turned his head to see if anyone was standing in the doorway.

He could not see anyone there, yet the sense that he wasn't alone only grew stronger until he could swear that someone was watching him bathe. Instinctively, he wrapped both arms around his upper body before realizing he was still exposed below the waist.

Whether or not they were really there, he wasn't about to let a stranger see his manhood, so he took a deep breath to ready himself, then stood up in a hurry and hastily stepped out of the bathtub to make for the towel hanging on a rack near the shower.

It was unfortunate that he'd neglected to consider his own safety in this rush to preserve his modesty. His foot slid rapidly forward as soon as it met the floor, causing him to lose balance and fall backward.

A scream escaped his lips, but it was cut short as his head collided against the bathtub's edge, and he blacked out.

******

What just happened? Where am I?

A ringing in his ears prompted him to open his eyes with difficulty and blink at the white ceiling up above. His head was still numb, but otherwise, his body had not lost sensation.

Several questions sprung up in his mind, with many of them concerning the fact that he was lying naked on a slippery floor.

Remembering the young woman who'd approached him as if he were her lover, he hoped that she hadn't done anything indecent while he was unconscious.

He used both hands to force himself into a sitting position, then noticed something confronting. That's not my dick... He swallowed and shifted his focus upwards to scan his surroundings. He was in someone's bathroom, and going by his memories, he could guess whose. Ichiro and his wife...

He got to his feet and slowly crossed the room to view his reflection in the mirror. The face that he saw prompted him to grip the sink's edge and stare back open-mouthed. My God, I really am in his body...

He reached out to tap the mirror in curiosity before patting both hands against his face to ensure it wasn't just some illusion. His reflection did the same, thus convincing him that this was most likely reality.

He observed his new face, marveling at its sharp jawline and piercing eyes. It was much more handsome than his old one, and as a man who had let himself go during his mid-thirties, this was a welcome change, even if a part of him wanted to wake up in the body of Tsutomu Higuchi once more. No, don't think like that. That pathetic loser is dead, and this is your chance at a new life...

He flexed a nicely toned arm while thinking about the advantages of being a healthy and attractive young man.

He'd be able to run a mile without collapsing from exhaustion, and women would be interested in him from the get-go. If luck was on his side, he could even reinsert himself into Sachiko and Tetsuya's lives as a potential new partner and father figure.

Excitement at these prospects almost got the better of him before he remembered that a plan was necessary. After all, he couldn't barge in on his son and ex-wife unannounced. Instead, he would need to formally introduce himself and earn their trust over time.

There was no way they'd recognize him with this face and body, but he would still need to be careful not to let his real name slip or act like anything other than a stranger. If he could manage that, it would only be a matter of making sure that he didn't hit his head again.

As for how he would meet up with them again, there were a few possibilities. They would definitely be in Tokyo to attend his funeral, and he didn't doubt that they'd both be open to sympathy during this bleak time.

Posing as an old friend or co-worker would be foolish since those who had known him would blow his cover.

He'd have to go for something less familiar, such as a tradesperson, door-to-door salesman, or a member of some Christian group. The second option would be the most comfortable since he already had experience with sales, but it was the third, which might allow him to visit them regularly and build up a relationship.

He decided and turned his attention to the pile of clothes folded neatly upon the nearby chair. It was casual wear, more appropriate for the home than work, but he didn't have any alternatives right now. He put on the Calvin Klein briefs and loose black sweatpants first, followed by the plain gray undershirt and a maroon sweater.

Once fully dressed, he turned to inspect his reflection yet again. Disappointment came over him, for not even a face worthy of the silver screen could make such clothes look good.

Plus, his hair was far too long. He didn't want to look like some actor starring in a period drama, so he decided that visiting the barbers would be his priority.

He investigated the other rooms to find that Ichiro's wife was nowhere to be seen. She had also locked the front door, which meant that his plan to escape would be delayed.

He checked under the doormat, then approached every drawer or cupboard he could find. Unfortunately, everyone had been sealed shut with duct tape, leading him to wonder why someone would do such a thing.

There were countless possible reasons, and he had to tell himself that now was not the time to be guessing which one was correct.

He mulled over what to do instead and concluded that it was best to wait until Ichiro's wife returned home. She'd have to unlock the front door, and being the strong young man he was, it wouldn't take much effort to push past her and make his escape.

A thrill came over him, for he hadn't done anything remotely rebellious since his university days. Accidentally impregnating his girlfriend and then being forced into marriage had put a damper on his pride and taken away all chances to live life by his own principles.

The more he thought about it, the more humorous he found his current situation. He could never have guessed that it would take dying and then returning in another man's body to rediscover his lost self, yet here he was.

All that was left to do now was ease his boredom until the opportunity came for him to break free.

******

Note:

- Kosode were the commonly worn clothing in Japan from the Kamakura period (1185 - 1333) to the Edo period (1603 - 1867). Over time, they evolved into a form resembling the more familiar kimono.