Senso-ji Temple, Japan, 1749.

Eisai opened his eyes, feeling a sharp pain taking over his head. He felt his whole-body ache in pain. The warm sun’s rays hit his face, blinking hard. These slight movements caused all his muscles to ache even more.

He forced himself to stand up. His head was dizzy, and his vision was blurry. Completely muddled. I got back…?! he thought. He went outside his room at the same moment Jien was walking. “Jien,” Eisai said with his eyes wide open.

“Good morning, Eisai,” Jien said with a big smile on his face.

“You are—” Eisai looked at Jien’s face, waiting for any terrifying reaction. “Not scared?”

“What? come on, you’re late,” Jien said and left Eisai standing at his door more confused.

“Jien… What year are we in?!” Eisai asked and stepped outside his room.

Jien didn’t hear what Eisai asked him and kept walking. “Come on, the elders are waiting,” he exclaimed. A group of young students came running and filled the hall. They were heading to the door at the end that led to the backyard garden.

Eisai followed them and held one of the young students’ arms; the student was startled a little by the sudden move. “What year is it?!” Eisai asked loudly.

“1749… why?” the student said, confused. Eisai left his arm and went back running to his room. He walked back and forth with his right hand clenched and his left hand holding his hair. He felt outraged. All he could think about was Nebuaui throwing him back to his time without teaching him anything.

A glass of water was next to his books on the floor. He took it and drank most of it. “The papers!” he said and spit some of the water on himself, remembering the papers he took from Nebuaui’s table.

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When he stole it, the only thing he thought about at that moment was to have any proof of him being in that faraway land. He searched his pockets for the papers. “Where are they?!” he said to himself.

It took him a moment to search all his clothes, yet he found nothing. Didn’t know how to react. He knew that he had taken some papers, but somehow it disappeared. He looked out of the window to see that the temple was empty.

The students gathered in the backyard garden where Eisai’s window was facing the main hall and the main door of the temple. He took a deep breath, trying to remember something. The same confusing feeling crept into him again. He took one more sip of the water and walked outside, aiming to meet the old lady that had helped him before.

Eisai arrived at the local market. Crowded as usual. Eisai kept walking through it, hoping to find the old lady’s shop. He didn’t know where it was exactly. The only thing he remembered was collapsing in the middle of the market and moments later found himself inside the shop.

He failed to find it and felt impatient to know the answers to all the questions burning inside his head. He stopped in front of a shop. “Mister, do you know where the herbs shop which is owned by an old lady?”

“Huh?” the man didn’t understand the question.

“I am looking for a shop owned by an old lady that uses flowers and herbs,” Eisai said slowly.

“There is no old lady here,” the man said and pointed at most of the shops in the market.

“But I was in it before. I’m sure you have seen her before. Her face is youthful, and her hair is long and silver. She uses flowers and herbs.” Eisai was struggling to describe the old lady; he didn’t know her name or where she was exactly in the market.

“Young man, I wish to help you, but our market only has men. No woman works here,” the man said and continued his work.

Eisai took a couple of steps back and looked at the rest of the market; the man was right, and the women in the market were only buyers. He felt like he was going to lose his mind. He scanned the market one last time before leaving.

He walked to the exit road, his eyes glimpsed something on the left, a fifty feet full grown cherry blossom tree standing alone looking odd. The entire market has no trees inside it, only shops beside each other.

He went to look at it. He had seen this type of tree before, but he had never seen one near the market. His memory didn’t fool him; this tree was never there.