The back room was cold and damp from the rain. Ryouhei rolled up his sleeves.
The ingredients were simple, but making soap was tricky. Lye could burn skin, and the smell wasn't pleasant. He had to be careful.
He cleared space on the stone counter near the old water basin. He grabbed a cracked clay pot for mixing, and a smaller blackened pot for heating. Then, he gathered everything he needed:
Old animal fat from a butcher's bundle. He cut away the mold and chopped it into small pieces.
Lye powder, found in a crate left behind by Konan's group.
Ash from under the wood stove.
Dry herbs—fennel, mint, and lavender no one wanted to buy. They still smelled nice.
He filled a jug with water and mixed in the ash and lye using a wooden stick. It hissed quietly. The lye water was strong—he set it by the door to cool.
Next, he melted the fat. He dropped it into the smaller pot and lit a small fire using the last of his dry wood. Slowly, the fat turned into thick, greasy liquid. The smell was bad. He opened the window so he wouldn't get sick.
When the fat melted, he checked the lye. It looked clear with a yellow tint. He dipped a small piece of dried potato in it—it turned black around the edges.
"Good," he said.
He poured the lye water through a cloth to clean it. Then, little by little, he added it to the melted fat, stirring the whole time. The mix started to thicken like porridge.
He stirred and stirred. His arms ached. Sweat ran down his face. After a while, it turned into a smooth beige paste.
Soap.
Rough and ugly, but real.
He poured the thick mix into flat molds made from broken tea boxes, lined with old wax paper from herb deliveries.
While the soap cooled, he crushed the herbs and sprinkled them on top—mint for a fresh smell, lavender to make it feel clean.
He stood back and took a deep breath. The air smelled like herbs and smoke. His hands were sore and red, but he smiled.
Tomorrow, he would cut the soap.
The next morning was cold. Gray light came through the cracked window. Ryouhei sat at the counter with a small knife.
He walked to the back room.
The soap had hardened overnight—not perfect, but firm enough. He peeled off the wax paper and sliced the first block. It was smooth inside, with bits of herbs showing. Better than he expected.
One by one, he cut the rest into rough rectangles. Each one looked a little different, but they were solid. Useful. He placed them on an old tray near the window to dry. They needed a few days to finish curing.
He picked up a bar and smelled it.
Clean. Minty, with a soft lavender scent. No fancy perfumes—but good enough.
He brought the tray to the front counter. Rain tapped on the roof.
He looked at the old water basin in the corner. Time to test it.
He filled a bowl with water, grabbed a soft bar, and dipped it in. It held together. Good sign. He rubbed it between his hands. It made a few bubbles—not many, but enough. The mint felt cool, and the lavender left a fresh scent. His hands felt cleaner, even though they still stung a little from the lye.
"Not bad," he said, drying his hands on his cloak.
Just then, the door creaked open. Tetsu came in, dripping wet. "Hey, Ryouhei! What smells so good?"
"Soap. I made it. Want to try?"
Tetsu's eyes lit up. "Really? We never get soap. It's too expensive."
"Here," Ryouhei said, handing him a small bar. "Try it. Tell me if it works."
Tetsu took it like it was treasure. He sniffed it. "Smells like herbs."
He ran to the basin and washed his hands. "Whoa! Bubbles!"
"Careful, kid," Ryouhei chuckled. "So, good or bad?"
Tetsu held up his clean hands. "Feels great! Can I keep it?"
"Sure. Here's another one. Just tell me how it goes."
"You're gonna be famous, Ryouhei!" Tetsu ran out, almost slipping.
Ryouhei laughed. If even Tetsu liked it, maybe others would too.
Later that day, Kaede stopped by. She leaned on the doorway. "Tetsu says you made soap."
"Word gets around," Ryouhei said, wiping the counter. "Want to try?"
She raised an eyebrow, walked in, and took a bar. She sniffed it. "Smells better than this place."
"Doesn't take much."
She smirked and washed her hands. "Not bad. Cuts through grime. You selling this?"
"That's the plan. Cheap and useful. Might help keep people healthy."
She nodded. "Civilians will like it. Maybe even Hina."
"You think she'd actually buy it?"
"Maybe. Give me a bar. I'll show the patrol."
He handed her one. "Thanks."
The next day, Tetsu returned. "That soap is amazing! I washed my face—feels great!"
"Any problems?"
"Nope! You making more?"
"Yeah. Take one."
More people started showing up. An old woman traded mushrooms for a bar. A man fixing tools gave Ryouhei two knives. He didn't ask for money. Just trade. He wanted people to trust him first.
At the end of the week, Hina showed up. "Soap, huh? Kaede says it's decent. Let me see."
Ryouhei gave her a bar. She washed her hands, then sniffed them. "Not bad. How many can you make?"
"Small batches for now. But if more people want it, I'll make more."
The next morning, Ryouhei packed ten bars of soap. He added a few extras just in case. Goro told him a food trader named Kenta was at the border.
Ryouhei had an idea: offer soap as a bonus to get a better deal.
He met Goro, Kaede, and Jiro at the gate. The roads were muddy. Rain dripped from his hood, and his shoes squished with each step. Still, he kept walking.
"Another trip," Kaede said. "Getting used to it?"
Ryouhei smiled, even tired. "Sort of."
"Barely," Ryouhei said. "What's Kenta like?"