"Yaaaawn~"
"Good morning, miss Nelly."
"Mn, morningh... Eh!?" I fell out of my bed when I saw a scary figure in the room, "Y-You're-!? What are you doing in my room!?"
"Apologies for the scare, miss Nelly." She gently bowed her head, "But the old man wishes to speak to you, and he appointed me to come wake you up."
This girl, Showa was her name... Geez, and here I thought she might just be the most normal person on this island, then she goes and acts like a sleep paralysis demon all of a sudden. Hold on, I make sure to lock the doors and close the windows every time, so how come she's inside this place?
"Does everyone have access to this place?" I hid behind my covers in fear, "You didn't break the doors down, did you?"
"You would have heard it if I did." She sighed, "I just lockpicked because you weren't answering your doorbell."
Ah, so she did ring the doorbell. How did I not hear it though? Was my dream that good? Honestly, I don't remember dreaming anything in particular, though. It was a funny dream where Lem ate his alarm clock and came to me for help, but all that was coming out of his mouth was the ringing soun-Oh, I get it now.
"Hold on, do you realize how illegal that is?" I frowned at her, "Breaking and entering, I think it was called."
"Illegal?" She tilted her head.
"Yeah, like against the laws."
"Laws?" She still kept returning a blank stare.
These people, is it possible that spending their entire lives on the islands makes them impervious to law abiding? Or could it be that that old man just didn't issue any laws in this place in general. Cause if it's the latter, then my worries are only starting to grow again...
"Miss Nelly, could you please get dressed now?" Showa once again asked, "The geezer wishes to meet you."
"Just call me Nelly." I got out of bed to change, "Also, you speak so respectfully all the time, but whenever you talk about the Olya, you never address him properly. Why is that?"
She looked on as I started undressing, still keeping her chest up and hands behind her back as if she was a soldier, though her face started growing a bit nervous and Red, all the while she kept trying to glance away.
"I-It's just I don't respect him." She tried turning around, "Mi... Nelly, if you are to do that, please warn me first."
"You're getting embarrassed of me changing?" I smirked, "Why? We're both girls, aren't we? Besides, it's hardly fair for you to be the one saying that to me, seeing as you guys only ever wear freaking bikinis and swimsuits around."
"These are our national garments!" She shamelessly defended the leaf bikinis, "But to answer your question... It's not so much what you're wearing as it is taking it off in front of a person. You agree, right? That there's a certain... sensual air to it?"
A sensual air? To changing out of my clothes? This lady is either a deviant or an extremely sheltered princess... Or an extremely sheltered deviant princess. So she wears next to nothing in an island that does the same without issue, but she draws the line at that? Get with the times, woman—It's normal for the same sex to change in front of each other, that's what changing rooms are for!
"If you don't wanna look, you're free to wait for me in the living room." I sighed.
"Hm? Oh, I would never." She chuckled.
"Eh?" I looked at her, "Why not?"
"...It's rude?" She raised an Eyebrow, "We're not family, I can't just be in a different room than the host."
What the hell are these made up rules she's throwing out? I've been around the world and yet I still can't make heads or tails of what makes sense here and what doesn't. It's just so... bizarre.
"And if I had to go to the bathroom?" I asked.
"As the guest, I would be inclined to follow you in and..."
"Stop it right there!" I ordered, "I don't wanna hear any more! Look, as long as you're in my house, you're free to stay in the living room, okay!? Just... sit down at the sofa and make yourself at home!"
"Oh... Okay." She nodded.
"Ah, but don't go rummaging through the pantry."
"But didn't you say to make myself at home?" She glanced back, "I was just thinking of making us some breakfast."
"...Okay, sure. If you're making it for the both of us, then it's okay."
Did I just trick this helpless local ignorant to our customs into making me breakfast? Yes. Do I feel bad about it? No, and why is that? Because does she feel bothered by making us breakfast? No she does not, so for this, I sentence Nelly Grimheart—Not guilty! Adjourned!
"Damn, the room smells of leaves now." I noticed as I got done changing, "So her 'clothes' just come with a natural fragrance to them, how swell."
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It wasn't until after getting dressed in the same clothes I wore for the past few weeks did I truly realize how annoying it can get to not have the luxury of extras. Of course, I had two options—Try my best to schedule a day in the week where I would just stay in my pajamas all day and clean these rags, or borrow one of those leaf bikinis. Obviously, the former sticks out as the more sane idea of the two, but it's not like it's that easy to find a free day on this place either. There's always someone calling for me, be they the old man or the other rowdy locals. I can just barely afford to not reek of sweat, but either way it always sort of stays with you, cause these guys don't have running water and bathe in the waterfall. Not to mention we're on a tropical island, so the stench is there regardless.
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"So, you said the old man called for me?" I sat down in the dining room, "What does he want now?"
"Beats me." She shrugged, "Here you are, Nelly. You didn't have much in terms of food, but I made do."
"The hell is this?" I looked at the plate that was handed to me.
"Bamboo stew." She sat down across from me and started digging in, "It's finely salted, and we got a ton of bamboo around here, just ripe for the picking. Don't worry, we have desert after this."
"You eat this?" I could only stare at her as she enjoyed her meal, "I'm scared to ask what's waiting for us for desert, in that case..."
"Well, I don't prefer this meal in particular, but it's the best I could do on such short materials." She explained, "I usually cook up some fish and make a sandwich out of it, but what can you do."
Ah, a surprisingly normal answer. Maybe I'm just being overly judgmental. Right, she made this for me out of her goodwill, so I should just be thankful and dig in. Who knows, maybe it's actually deliciou-
"Ptu!" I spat it back out, "What the fu-!? Eugh! This isn't food! Cattle eat better grass than this!"
"I never said it was a delicacy." She looked annoyed, "In any case, it has high nutrients, so be a good girl and finish your plate. After you do that, we can relax with a nice coconut."
"A coconut... what?" I asked, expecting something more specific.
"A coconut." She plopped it down in between us, shaking the table slightly as she did, "Just a plain old coconut."
"That looks hard to bite down on."
"Haha! You're funny!" She giggled, "You crack it open and drink the milk inside. That's why I didn't prepare it ahead of time."
Milk from... this thing? Is it alive? An animal of some kind? It has black Eyes and some hair, but the skin is as hard as a rock. Is it like, a deformed monkey or something? I've seen these little critters hanging around on top of the palm trees everywhere, but they're not that active. Maybe they're more so sloths rather than monkeys.
"Ugh, fine." I gritted my teeth and ate the stew, "The sooner I start, the sooner I'll finish."
"That's the spirit." She smiled.
I won't say anything more about the stew. It tasted like salted grass and that was about it. I assume she got the water from a basin nearby, but at this point all I can hope for is that it isn't from the same source as the bathing waterfall. Actually, we're surrounded by salt water, aren't we? Maybe that's why it's so salty? Either way, it's this dish's saving grace. I found myself ignoring the bamboo in it and only drinking the water after a while, but at least it felt appetizing. I gave her the bamboo though, so it didn't go to waste.
"You sure you don't want any?" She asked just in case.
"Knock yourself out."
Shrugging, she partook in my plate as well, all the while the coconut kept staring at me with those beady black Eyes. I felt a tad uncomfortable, but before I could say anything, Showa palmed it and flung it full speed out of the window. Thankfully it was wide open.
"What are you doing!?" I jumped.
"Cracking it open." She smiled, "That's the fun part about coconuts, you gotta work for your desert! Come on, let's go outside! The tree it hit didn't really do much to it this time."
"Use a hammer, dammit!"
"Huh?" She turned back, "I don't have one of those."
"Not even a mallet?"
"Nuh-uh." She shook her head.
"Then instead of hurling it at stuff, why not throw stuff on it?" I suggested, "Like, use a heavy rock or boulder or something, I dunno. Just don't play with your food, it's rude."
"It is? I apologize, Nelly." She bowed her head lightly, "Now come on, let's try that tactic of yours out."
Walking out of the house to retrieve the runaway little coconut, it didn't seem to have used the situation to run far away at all. Maybe it got a concussion from hitting the tree head on? Eh, more like the tree got a concussion, cause these guys are impervious to damage, it seems.
"Can't we cut it open with a knife?" I asked.
"I've never seen someone cut it open with a knife." She shook her head, "It's not a watermelon."
Ah, yeah, that makes sense. Anyways, I had her take the coconut and place it down on a hard rock nearby, before running around to find a similarly sized rock that could just about do the trick. Handing it to her cause she seemed to have an easier job lifting it than I did, I told her to crush it with all her might.
"But what if...?" She worried.
"Just do it, it'll work!" I gave her a thumbs up, "One... Two... Three!"
Bam! The rock hit the other rock, and the coconut was completely squashed! Tons of White blood came spewing out, and once we raised the rock again, we saw quite the gruesome sight.
"So..." She turned to me, "How are we going to drink the milk now?"
"...Wait, what was the goal here again?" I asked.
"To crack it open just slighty. Like one would a hen's egg."
"Ah, I see. Like a hen's egg." I nodded, "In other words, we just squashed a poor chick, didn't we?"
"I tried explaining this to you, but you just kept rushing me to throw it." She shrugged.
"Well you didn't have to listen to me." I tried shifting the blame.
"How could I not? As the guest, I need to listen to all the commands of the host." She explained, "It's just basic courtesy."
At this point, I think culture shock is the wrong term here. It's more like culture lightning strike.