Cassie

I admit it; I let us be captured without a fight. It was for the best. Koto Furunushi was an absolute. A solid and powerful force with such a strict sense of honor, his will negated the wavering hearts around him. His decisions were fixed points in my Auditions, to the degree that any ‘suspense’ was lost on me. Not to diminish the trust I placed in Daniel and Tarō to play their parts well. With the interrogation behind us, the future in my ears had its routine fuzzy hissing interference.

I can’t begin to tell you how amazing a place this was, how dense. An entire city of people lived and worked in this underground mansion. None of this would be possible without their ability to take the form of household objects. A family of four could live comfortably as a lamp, a pen, and two paperweights on top of a nightstand, which would be another Tsukumogami, which would house another family in each of its three drawers, and the whole thing would look like an interior decorator’s dream come true.

It’s hard to get a sense of their way of life merely by talking about it… maybe if I describe the feast, you can begin to understand.

A banquet is an interesting thing for a race that doesn’t, as a rule, need to eat. This gives them a… unique perspective on cooking. They do it totally for fun, more like a team sport than a meal. Taste isn’t a factor they consider—though they never burnt or undercooked anything—for them, it’s all in the presentation.

Tarō explained to me later how they pride themselves on their independence. As staunch vegans, they stockpile Cornucopia produce in timeless Pwyll’s Pouches. They shift into buckets to fetch water from the underground river. The ovens, grills, pots, fry pans, spatulas, whisks, blenders, chopping blocks, potato peelers, rolling pins, bamboo steamers, pickle jars, and everything else in the kitchen are all Tsukumogami.

I borrowed Tarō’s sense of vision as we arrived at the table, an impressive sight at ten meters of exquisite oak—his name is Tēburu, nice guy—and were seated across from Koto and the officials on cushions they referred to as ‘zabuton.’ When the rice straw mats stopped, we sat, and one of the cushions spoke up, “Hey, don’t put your butt on me! Sit properly!”

Wendi leaped up, “What? I’m sorry, how?”

“Kneel on me and sit on your legs,” the Tsukumogami explained.

Kenta objected, “That sounds uncomfortable.”

Several other cushions tittered and mock-whispered to one another, “The squishies can’t even sit properly!” That’s what they called organics here, on account of us fleshy folk being mostly water and—I’ll admit—quite squishy.

“This isn’t necessary; I can float on my hair,” the Kaminoke argued.

The cushion didn’t like that any better. “If you don’t use me, I’m out of a job and don’t get to join the feast.”

“It’s no trouble for me,” Wendi said as she sat properly and rested the hand with Daniel on the cushion beside her. He sat properly on her open palm.

“Alright,” Kenta relented, the hairpin guardians giggling at his struggles to follow suit.

Lea eased onto her cushion with helpful directions from Momen.

Rana found her place in silence, and Paul politely asked permission, “Am I too heavy?”

“Of course not, I’m stuffed with feathers,” came the reply.

Likewise, I found myself apologizing, “I’m sorry, I really can’t sit properly. I need my legs free to feed myself.”

Thankfully, a friendly woman’s voice came from my cushion, “Oh, darling, it’s alright; the others were teasing.”

Shami watched the debacle and shook his head in scandalous disapproval.

An animate clay jug with arms and legs waddled to the head of the table. All held somber silence for the little being’s procession until it reached Koto. The jug-person doffed their wide-brimmed ceramic hat, revealing it to be a cup as the Tsukumogami bowed to fill the vessel with a shimmering liquid. Koto accepted the cup with ritual gravitas and poured the contents onto the bare floorboards.

A blessing for the house, perhaps?

With the strange libation finished, Koto signaled the start of the meal with a wave of his hand. Biwa plucked at her strings, and a melody arose as the other officials joined. It was pleasant, jaunty for dinner music—a tune for action. A gong named Shōgorō sounded, and a marching band of silverware processed in ringing synchrony.

Each fork and knife and spoon sprouted arms and legs for the demonstration, each laying itself in its etiquette-appropriate place. Napkins danced forward in rows, spinning to unfurl their lace gowns. Cups and dining plates rolled on their sides and fell dramatically in front of each diner. Then came the real parade.

Plates and bowls were the floats proudly presenting their prizes, course by course. The serving utensils, tongs, ladles, and scoops served the guests. Mountains of rice rumbled forward with a fleet of chopsticks jogging behind in pairs. There were pickled plums on pincushions, waterfalls of rice noodles in oil, mashed potatoes sculpted into swans, artichokes with pearl onions tucked into the leaves, bird’s nests of carrot strips with melon ball eggs, fruits and vegetables carved into a menagerie of animals, and dozens of other delights.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Bunbuku Chagama the tea kettle kept pace with steam bubbling out her lid. As a group, we decided to steer clear of Kameosa, who poured more potent spirits, though Biwa and Akachochin the red paper lantern indulged.

Paul and Daniel were more impressed than intimidated by all this, mainly because they didn’t have to deal with the ensuing awkwardness of coordinating with the dinnerware. Watching my fork and knife cut my meal into bites was one thing, but I felt too embarrassed at first to take a mouthful.

It took them coaxing me into the spirit of the thing and seeing the officials do it without batting an eyelash before I could pick up the fork-person and eat a pickled plum. The utensils enjoyed it more than I did when I agreed to share my sense of taste with them. As I said, the Tsukumogami aren’t known for their skill with flavors, but it wasn’t bad.

Wendi and Rana ate like starving animals. They didn’t need more than the single ration they got at our road trip mealtimes. However, at an all-you-can-eat buffet, their metabolisms could handle multiple human portions before feeling full. While Wendi stopped to taste each new item, Rana had a quota to fill—replenishing her Toadstones took time and calories. I didn’t know if she’d finish one by the end of our stay.

While Lea’s situation seemed awkward, Momen happily accommodated her. The headwrap allowed the Libra girl to feed herself by relaxing into a veil. Lea took her etiquette cues from Kenta, and I followed suit.

At first, the Tsukumogami stared at him like an alien, but the Kaminoke boy demonstrated the utmost civility. He must’ve been taught formal dining manners at some point because the rest of us hadn’t. Despite not knowing their specific cultural norms, Kenta navigated the utensils and courses like a foreign dignitary. He’d ask the silverware when he didn’t know what to do next, and they offered advice with exuberance.

The whole banquet relaxed as the two sides gradually grew acquainted. After the first courses and the others started small talk with the officials, Daniel, ever curious, marshaled the courage to ask Koto a question, “Excuse me, sir.”

“At your service,” Koto acknowledged him.

“May we barter with the Tsukumogami? Perhaps we have something—”

“—Here, boy,” Shami waved at Daniel with an ochoko cup. “I’m the colony’s Secretary of Commerce. Don’t bother the Master with such things. I suppose you can waste my time after the feast, though I doubt your baubles and gossip are worth anything of value.”

Daniel frowned. I Heard a handful of possible futures spring forth but decided not to interfere. I trusted Daniel knew when to yield and when to strike. The young angel withdrew an object from his sleeve and held it high, “Even this?”

Dazzling blue light danced across the banquet table. Sparkles flickered on the walls and ceiling. Faces shone with astonishment, glass twinkled with reflections, and silverware glittered beneath the jewel in his hand.

Tartarus’ Sapphire, the speck he’d broken from the geode cave around Eastwood’s Terminal.

Everyone, including the furniture, froze and stared in awe. It felt like being transported to that crystalline chamber; as if we could step into that room now as easily as we’d crossed the World Gate on our first day of freedom.

Shami-chōrō barked with laughter, and the spell shattered. “Never, in all my years, have I ever seen someone so blessed and cursed in equal measure! Boy, you will never hold anything more valuable or more worthless as long as you live. No one in the universe will buy that from you, and you’d have to pay to learn why.

“However,” the inebriated instrument said, “I’ll admit I was wrong. You kids are more interesting than I gave you credit for. Come to my office, and I’m sure we can strike a deal.”

Daniel stashed the enchanted sapphire alongside his few other possessions resistant to his corrosive touch.

The banquet atmosphere shifted. Where, before, the Tsukumogami servers and furniture treated the Wildlings children as strange novelties with the modicum of honor reserved for guests, now their speech and conduct contained a spark of respect. One spoon glanced at another as if to say, ‘These are no ordinary outsiders.’

“Thank you for the insight, sir,” Daniel said with respect, then addressed his friends. :Let’s brainstorm ideas tonight. Maybe we can trade the Cintamani we’ve collected for items or secrets that’ll improve our chances fighting the mages. Tomorrow we’ll discuss our priorities and plan a negotiation strategy.:

Returning his focus to Koto, Daniel continued, “Sir, I couldn’t help but notice how powerful you and the members of your court are. Yet, from what I’ve heard, it seems you all keep to yourselves here. If you and your retinue went out into the Wilderness, wouldn’t it be the mages and monsters who’d have to run? Wouldn’t they have to respect your territory once you carved it out?”

Biwa shook her head with a tipsy slur to her words, “Yes, we fought in the wars, and yes, we’ve defeated many terrible foes, but Koto is one man. If he were to leave, who would protect the people? You understand nothing.”

“We are not strong,” Shami added with bitter honesty, “You speak like that because you’re even weaker.”

Koto raised his hand to silence his officials and spoke for himself, “For what reason, may I ask, should I go into the Wilderness?”

Daniel blinked, stunned, having forgotten for a moment his thoughts were not obvious to everyone else, “There are people who are afraid. Victims of monsters and demons, slaves of cruel mages who make them hunt the meek and vulnerable. Aren’t they worth saving?”

For a moment, Koto stared at Daniel, face tranquil. No one but me could hear the clenching of the man’s fists, the tension in his limbs, and the suppressed rage in his grinding teeth. I knew we were safe; Koto would never break his word once given, but I feared his power, nonetheless.

“My apologies,” Koto said, “I almost forgot you were children little wiser than our misguided Tarō. I have no harsh words for you. The Wilderness will teach you soon enough.”

That conversation was over.

Later, when Akachochin and Biwa were deep in their cups, they sang a poor duet. By that time, some of the kids started excusing themselves.

:Excuse me,: Lea asked Chagama the teakettle, :Where are the restrooms?:

“I’m sorry,” she said, confused. “The word isn’t translating very well. We have many scenic areas for relaxation.”

Deeply distressed as she realized we had needs the Tsukumogami did not, Lea turned to Koto himself for help. :Sir, is there a nearby, isolated place where our group can dig a latrine and bury it when we leave?:

“Hmm, would the rock quarry be acceptable?” he offered.

She nodded and sent, :Thank you, sir. Rana, let’s go.:

The frog girl shoveled one last plateful into her gullet and stood.

As the two left with their bodyguards, Kenta raised his voice. “Master Furunushi, your home is incredible. May I please tour the perimeter to better appreciate the architecture?”

“The bobbing sisters will guide you,” Koto said with a casual nod.

At the others’ successes, Daniel found his nerve again. “Koto, sir, I was hoping, with your permission, that I could practice my abilities—on some rocks outside town.”

Koto furrowed his brow and considered; this was something he didn’t have to give Daniel as a host except for politeness. After deliberation, the Master of the House’s sense of decorum won. “I’ll permit training within the quarry if your guardian stands watch.”

“Thank you, sir,” Daniel bowed his head. “I appreciate it. I won’t trouble anyone.”

“See that you don’t,” Koto said.