Noriaki awoke first, and to her surprise, and utter delight, the delightful and lovely divine muse that was Ariiko was still there, sharing the same bed. The poet blushed, remembering fondly the night previous, their first encounter, their first kiss, their first night together. How wonderful the dawn was. She had left behind one group of people and found someone willing to travel together, willing to actually take her seriously, willing to share in the joys of late night carnal pleasures. 

Noriaki placed a kiss onto Ariiko’s cheek, brushing her hair gently with a finger, not wanting to wake her from her slumber. She slid out of bed, yawning, and she looked once more towards the sleeping figure, a contented grin on her face. It was time to wash, to clean herself, to meet the day refreshed. A simple trip outside with a water basin and Noriaki was soon back in the inn room, strapping on the undermesh of her armor. 

A meal, or perhaps a drink was in order. For collateral, Noriaki left her swords in the corner of the room; if Ariiko were to awake before Noriaki returned, she need only glance to the swords to know that this time, this time Noriaki had not left in the morning, that Ariiko had not just been another notch on the belt. 
Outside the inn, Noriaki stepped onto the dirt road, stretching, feeling the breeze on her skin. “Such a day made brighter only by the equally as wonderful night I have just awoken from. If only today can be as grand as the night, then the day will be truly memorable indeed.” 

She was speaking aloud, her head and her voice projecting towards the sky. Several villagers stared at the woman, but Noriaki paid no mind. She was still coming down from the throes of passion.