(1912)
Morning arrived gently.
Sunlight filtered through thin curtains, touching the furniture of Kagura's residence with a pale gold glow. The memories of the night before lingered, but she did not dwell on them. She had learned long ago that the past only became heavy when carried too openly.
Instead, she dressed simply and stepped out into the waking city.
The streets were already alive—horses pulling carts, shopkeepers lifting shutters, the air filled with voices and movement. Kagura walked without hurry, eventually stopping before a small but well-kept boutique she had visited many times before.
A bell chimed softly as she entered.
"Kagura," a warm voice greeted. "You're early."
Jack stood behind the counter, sleeves rolled up, dark hair slightly disheveled. He had known her long enough not to ask where she came from—or how she never seemed to change.
"Good morning, Jack," Kagura replied. "I need something new."
"Again?" he teased. "You buy clothes like someone with nowhere to be."
Kagura smiled faintly. "I suppose I do have a lot of free time."
Jack studied her for a moment, then nodded. "That explains it."
While he laid out fabrics, he spoke casually. "So what do you do with all that time of yours? Traveling? Writing?"
"Painting," Kagura answered. "Sometimes."
Jack blinked. "Painting?"
"Yes."
He laughed softly. "You're full of surprises. But tell me—have you ever thought about doing something… bigger?"
Kagura met his gaze. "Bigger?"
"You've got the means," he said, lowering his voice. "More than most people I know. Why not invest in something lasting? Something that stays even when the world moves on."
She considered his words carefully.
"What would you suggest?" she asked.
Jack didn't hesitate.
"A hotel."
The word settled into the air between them.
"A place where people come and go," he continued. "Travelers, dreamers, businessmen. You could create something beautiful. Permanent."
Kagura felt something stir—faint, but real.
"A hotel…" she repeated.
"Yes," Jack said, smiling. "It suits you."
After a long moment, Kagura nodded. "Very well. I like the idea."
Jack's eyes widened. "You're serious?"
"I am," she said calmly. "Do you know who I should speak to if I wish to build one?"
Jack's expression shifted from playful to thoughtful.
"There's a man," he said. "An architect and investor. Knows land, permits, construction—everything. If anyone can make it happen, it's him."
He wrote a name and address on a small slip of paper and handed it to her.
"You'll want to see him as soon as possible," Jack added. "Men like him don't stay in one place for long."
Kagura folded the paper carefully and placed it inside her glove.
"Thank you, Jack," she said. "For the advice."
He watched her as she turned to leave. "You know," he said, "sometimes I think you're not just passing through time… you're waiting for something."
Kagura paused at the door.
"Perhaps," she replied. "Or perhaps I'm learning how to build a place where time doesn't matter."
The next morning, Kagura rose before dawn.
She dressed with purpose and stepped into the early light, the address Jack had given her tucked safely away.
This time, she was not wandering.
She was searching.
And somewhere in the city, the foundation of the Hoshimi Grand was waiting to be imagined.