Chapter 2 of 6
Chapter 2
44 min read10,903 wordsMature
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The tenth month of the 486th year in the monarchy calendar. As the first light of dawn brightened the eastern sky, the royal chefs woke to the crowing of roosters raised next to the court residences.
We all rise at the same time and head to a nearby bath specifically reserved for those living in the royal court. It’s the same size as a Japanese bathhouse, and is composed of a large, hot bath like a sauna, a cold bath, and a rest area that doubles as a dressing room.
It was common for the people of Asilia to have communal baths. The abundance of water allowed your average person in the capital to bathe every two days while outside it was down to every three days. Being able to bathe everyday seemed to be indicative of status. In the royal court, only the royal family has a personal bathroom, while officials such as chefs and doctors, whose jobs require sanitary practices, have the privilege of bathing every day.
I dress myself after getting out of the bath and, using a white hairpin that matches my uniform, pin up my shoulder length hair. With my morning routine finished, I head to the royal kitchen just after the morning bell resounds in the city.
The royal kitchen’s composed of eight stations manned by a Sous Chef and 200 assistant cooks who’re further headed by one Head Chef. I’ve been assigned my own personal workstation to cook from outside of those.
I started by checking the ingredients. Today I’ll be using Shilda melons harvested from the town of Shilda that lies east of here. They’re noted for their sweetness and hard, edible skin. The skin, however, needs to be dried under the sun and preserved in salt until it becomes soft enough to be eaten or else it tastes like grass. I often see it being sold in the market in packets of ten peels. It’s usually served as a snack with tea or alcohol, but can also be fried with meat or fish.
I cut the melon skin into long, narrow peels while maintaining their thickness. I then boil them in a fish sauce until completely cooked and add some cheese and unripened blue melons for a dressing.
“Good morning, Kay.”
“Hey, good morning.”
As soon as I finish making breakfast, Aisa peeks in from the doorway. It’s been almost a year now since I’ve started making breakfast for Aisa every morning. She used to wait for me to deliver it at first, but as time passed, she started coming by to take it herself. If she got up early, we’d just eat here in the kitchen.
“Itadakimasu.”
“Itadakimasu.”
Placing the plates on the kitchen table, we sat facing each other and recited a few words in Japanese. Since the day she watched me say it back in Asilia, Aisa’s started imitating the gesture. She totally loved it when I told her about how we express gratitude for food with that word. She hasn’t had a single meal since without saying “Itadakimasu.”
She’d recite it more wholeheartedly than I ever did. Expressing one’s gratitude for food is a common gesture, however, it also feels somewhat deceitful to me. Not only does it ignore everyone who worked to put the food on the table, that says nothing about the plants or animals that don’t even get a say in the matter. So, whenever I see Aisa saying it so intently, it makes me wonder whether I want to keep doing it.
Using chopsticks I fletched out of wood, I took a bite of the melon skin ramen. Next, I moved to sip from the soup. My body absorbed the several life remains composing the food on the table.
“It’s kind of embarrassing with you watching me.”
“Sorry.”
I averted my eyes and continued pondering. Considering the ganzara, and most importantly, the fact that Aisa herself is expressing her gratitude for food, ‘Itadakimasu’ sounds even more controversial.
“Thanks for the meal.”
As usual, Aisa recited the matching words for ‘Itadakimasu’ before placing down her chopsticks.
It’s said that in the 39th year of the monarchy calendar, a boy whose blood tasted better than anything else in this world appeared in Asilia. Since that incident, similar children were born there every now and then, until eventually, they were referred to as sakla, an obsolete word for flavor, and considered as gifts from god.
Aisa’s the 330th sakla in history. She was born 30 years after the previous sakla, Yuan. She is fated to get dismembered once she ‘ripens’ and lined on tables as food. Her wish was for me to accept the role of cooking her ripened body when the time arrives. Certainly, I still didn’t give her a proper answer until today. She has been trying to convince me for almost a year now.
***
“You want me… to cook you…?”
“That’s right.”
Going back in time to the banquet, when I just came to learn what it actually meant to be a sakla, I listened to Aisa continue with a broad smile:
“I want you to be my sakla preparator when I ripen.”
“What the hell do you… rather, when will you ripen? Could it be you’ve already-”
Aisa shook her head in denial.
“We check their blood at a fixed interval. Most of the past sakla have ripened at the age of 16… Lady Aisa still has around three more years,” Hagan explained.
I realized that Aisa still had some time to live, but that didn’t make me feel any better.
“That means… she’ll die, no?”
Aisa nodded to the obvious question I posed.
“But it’s a very noble death. I will have everyone enjoy my taste, and then visit god’s place.”
“A sakla is a grace bestowed from the heavens. Savoring its excellent taste is an expression of gratitude towards God.”
Hagan’s explanation resembled that of a sacrifice. Although, the concept is quite the opposite as they receive a gift from their god instead of offering one. It’s easy to glorify this to no end when it’s not your life that is on the line.
“I had this idea from the day I tasted Kay’s cooking. I admit that Hagan’s cooking is delicious, but I don’t think there’s anyone more suited to be my sakla preparator than Kay.”
Aisa, the one who decided to be sacrificed, gazed at me with her eyes full of hope and expectation. She didn’t seem to fear her death in the least.
“There’s nothing I can do if you’re returned to your world before I ripen, but I’m sure you’ll stay with me until then-”
“What the hell are you saying!?” I inadvertently shouted.
A wave of silence engulfed the hall. Aisa and the princess looked astounded while the king and Hagan glared at me with grim faces.
“You don’t want to cook me, Kay?”
“That’s not the problem here, is it!?”
I seized Aisa’s thin shoulders and continued with a furious voice:
“You’re going to die at the age of 16! You realize that, right!?”
“But… I’ll be eaten for the sake of God-”
“Why would you not live your life and die of old age!?”
“I can’t do that. I need to be eaten as soon as I ripen, or else I become less appetizing.”
My reasoning didn’t seem to hold any weight with her.
“Hold your tongue! How dare you insult a sakla!?” Isela screamed, her first words spoken to me were full of hostility and scorn.
“I’m being rude? You think this is the time for such nonsense!?”
I returned the same amount of hostility in my reply and glared back at her.
“Are you people seriously happy butchering and devouring this little girl, all for your so-called god!? She’s not an animal, damn it!! What kind of custom is th-”
“Watch your mouth! Clear!”
“Kay!”
Hagan’s angry voice drowned out Aisa’s silent scream.
Turning to her by reflex, an unmistakable sound resounded through the silent hall.
I felt a slight impact on my cheek as Aisa’s palm was faintly shivering. A few seconds later, I realized she slapped me.
“Aisa…”
Aisa stared at my dumbfounded face with tears of betrayal running from her eyes.
“How could you say things like that!?”
“That’s because… Aisa, you’ll die-”
“Why can’t you understand that I have something more important to me than my life!? Are you making fun of God and everyone here!? I don’t mind if you refuse to cook me, but this is just…”
I couldn’t say anything to refute her as I watched the tears flow from her anger-filled eyes. The seething anger that had taken me over was quelled by her slap.
“That’s it. I’m leaving…”
With that, she turned her back to us and left the hall.
“Aisa!”
“Calm yourself, Clear.”
The king stopped me from following with a pacific rebuttal. I only realized that I said too much after hearing his voice.
This is bad. What am I doing?
I could only wonder how I managed to act this way in front of the man that had caused me to bite my tongue countless times out of nervousness when we first met.
“Is there any good to come from following her now?”
With cold sweat running down my body, I met the king’s gaze only to be confronted with a terribly gentle expression.
“We could have played things better ourselves. My apologies.”
His words didn’t feel hostile or blaming at any point. All he did was convince me to calm down and apologize. His attitude was so astonishing I was at a loss for words.
***
“Lady Aisa has ordered to refuse you entry.”
“…I understand.”
I came to Aisa’s room to apologize for what I said, but the maid guarding the door refused me. I had no choice but to try another place.
Now that I’ve cooled down, I realized the severity of my rashness and contemplated how to make up for it while rubbing my raw cheek.
“Why can’t you understand that I have something more important to me than my life!? Are you making fun of God and everyone here!?”
She wasn’t wrong. She finds the fact that she’ll be eaten to be an utmost blessing and I came in and ruthlessly trampled her beliefs. From my time on Earth, I knew, no- I assumed I knew that forcing one’s values onto someone else is something you don’t do, and that you never criticize another person’s values just because you don’t agree with them. How wrong I was. I’m still just as narrow-minded as I’d been for a long time.
And now, I hurt Aisa. I made her cry. That’s horrible.
Nevertheless, that being said, I was still unsure what to think about this sakla custom.
If a similar thing happened to me on Earth, I would respect it and act so as to not hurt the other party even if I personally didn’t agree. I intended to take the same approach in this world as well.
But, in that respect, I became unsure how to see Aisa’s death. I walked to the court residence with heavy strides as I contemplated the matter.
*Knock Knock*
While walking down the corridor, I heard the sounds of knocking on a door. Someone was standing in front of my door.
The torch she carried in one hand dimly illuminated her innocent and slender beauty, accompanied by the red hair inherited from her father.
“Princess…”
“Clear Kay…”
As soon as she noticed me, Isela made an uncomfortable expression and glared at me with her malicious eyes.
***
Along with her two maids, Isela and I went to the rooftop of the court residence.
The scenery of the capital on a moonlit night was breathtaking. The rampart was close to the rooftop, making it a suitable place for surveying the entire city or for watching the stars while drinking some wine. It was one of my favorite places in this palace, but now it felt suffocating with a tense ambiance.
“Princess, I apologize for what I sai-”
“You better be. If it were me, I’d at least have locked you up.”
Isela interrupted my apology and talked without so much as a glance. She was right. I talked down a national treasure and a member of the royal family. It’s a miracle I’m still in one piece.
My heart almost stopped when I saw three shadows standing in front of my doorway earlier. I thought they were soldiers here to apprehend me. Judging from the way Isela was talking, I assumed that nothing happened and felt like a pardoned criminal.
“Aisa came to my room.”
“Oh?”
Isela caught me off guard with that.
“She was tired from crying so much and is asleep now. I came after putting her to bed.”
So Aisa was already in Isela’s room when I visited her earlier.
“She was… she was crying since she left the dinner table because of you.”
Isela turned my way and continued with a glare.
“Why did you do that? How could you make the girl who looked up to you you all this time cry? She even… saved your life and gave you her blood!”
All of her remarks were on the mark. I had no right for excuses or objections.
“I was wrong to say that to her. I shouldn’t have denied her reason for living in such a cruel way.”
“That’s right.”
“However… that doesn’t mean I accept it.”
Isela frowned for a second when I continued:
“Right now, I in no way can accept Aisa being eaten. I’m sure there’s a better way for her to live her life. I want to see her walk that path.”
I felt I had to make a personal view on the subject known, even if it could imply that I didn’t reflect on my earlier actions.
I can’t accept nor respect Aisa’s death as a sakla.
A short period of silence dominated the rooftop. The next words to leave Isela’s mouth came after a gentle draft of the sea breeze.
“So you still insist on denying a sakla’s reason for being. You still deny Aisa’s existence, is that it?”
“…That might be the case regarding the life of a sakla. However, I believe that Aisa, as a person, deserves to live an ordinary life.”
The cold look on Isela’s face became even colder.
“Just why did Aisa and my father accept this man?”
Leaving those words as if she spat them out, Isela averted her eyes and passed by my side with her two maids to walk down the stairs.
“Princess…”
“My father won’t be relieving you from your duty as a royal chef.”
“How is-”
“However, he will be revoking your nomination as a sakla preparator for the time being. He sent me to tell you that he wants everything to continue as planned from the beginning.”
Surprise took over as I wondered how much the king expects from me, or rather, how much he’s expecting of Earth’s food culture. It appears that my position was saved due to my status as a foreigner to this world. Because of that, I felt a tinge of apprehension.
“Do you have any objections, Clear Kay? Or do you accept the king’s request to continue working under the customs you criticized?”
She was clearly provoking me. Perhaps she’d rather me refuse the duty and leave the palace. In any case, my mind was already made.
“Yes, I’ll humbly accept that duty. Please tell the king that I am grateful for his tolerance.”
“…I see.”
Isela didn’t look surprised by my answer and nodded with an awfully displeased face.
“I don’t mind conveying the message to my father, but you need to go apologize to Aisa personally.”
“That’s my intention…”
That was the last conversation we had that night. Isela left the rooftop with her maids.
I knew it all along, but that night, I became convinced that she hated me. She always did, since the day we met in the king’s hall. I wonder what it was that caused her to dislike me.
***
“…I’m sorry for last night, Aisa.”
As promised with Isela, I visited Aisa in her room and apologized with a bow. I didn’t expect the maid to let me in the next day as if nothing happened.
“You won’t get on my good graces with your food if that’s what you thought.”
Aisa raised her eyes and declared as soon as she saw the tray behind me. Today, I asked Hagan to let me make her lunch. She didn’t seem mad like last night, but her eyes were still red and swelling, striking my heart with guilt.
“No, I just asked Hagan to let me make your lunch.”
“That’s… the work of a sakla preparator. You don’t want to be my preparator, do you, Kay?”
“…That’s right.”
I noticed her slim body shivering for an instant when I nodded to her question.
“I don’t want you to die, Aisa. I don’t want you to be put down in order to get cooked and eaten by people.”
It was as Isela said, I’m a narrow-minded person. I can’t agree with Aisa’s death as a sakla. I can’t stand to see her murdered and devoured by foreign people even if that’s the norm in this world.
“Then why did you make me lunch?”
“I know I’m not in a position to say this, but… I want to think about it. Until you ripen… I will contemplate accepting the duty of a sakla preparator. I Implored Hagan and the king to let me make your meals until then, and get to talk to you like this every day. I hope you’re okay with that.”
It was a selfish request on my part, but Hagan and Shayde accepted it with a few conditions. They were way too friendly with someone who’d caused a fuss last night.
“Aisa… I won’t ask you to forgive me, but, will you eat this lunch I made for you?”
I was well aware I’ve been asking for too much recently.
Aisa remained quiet for a few seconds as she stared at my eyes.
“Kay, I too-”
*Grrrr*
When she finally opened her mouth to speak, a sound coming from her belly interrupted the conversation. Aisa’s face turned crimson in embarrassment.
“What was that, Aisa?”
“…Nothing. I’ll eat.”
She turned away and muttered in a low voice that barely reached my ears. I carried the tray of food to her side. Today’s lunch was white bread with striped greens and a bowl of soup on the side.
“What soup is this? I’ve never seen it.”
Aisa peeked at the bowl and asked. Her eyes were filled with sheer curiosity.
“It’s called curry, a recipe from my world made by mixing different types of spices. I cooked it using the spices I could find in the capital.”
It was a bowl of soup variant that goes well with bread. The soup made from a myriad of different ingredients of various colors: the flesh of ruby melons, the blue skin of a unique type of potato, green mushrooms, egg yolk, and egg whites. Finally, dendel meat on the bone for added nutrients. Aisa hesitantly took a spoonful of my experimental curry.
“How is it?”
“It’s so good!”
“Really?”
I let out a sigh of relief. I made quite the effort to keep from putting too much spice, I didn’t want her to find it too spicy.
“So, you will keep cooking dishes of your world for me, Kay?”
“You betcha.”
The only option I had as the foreigner, Clear Kay, was to accept my fate and be her chef for the next few years.
“It’d be wonderful if you made this curry when you cook me, too.”
“If I cook you, that is…”
***
The first month of the 486th year in the monarchy calendar. It was about time to embark on the first step of the duty the king bestowed me.
“How is it? Does it look okay?”
Before heading out, Aisa took a posture in front of me and asked about how she looked in her dress.
She was wearing a one piece composed of a bright green lower part looked like a skirt and thin shawl, similar to a poncho. As for her feet, she wore sandals woven from bark. I was wholly incapable of discerning between stylish and lame clothing at that time, but Aisa cut a good figure in my eyes.
“You look just fine like that.”
“Yes, the clothes suit you very well, Lady Aisa.”
A girl next to me named Atema, who was donning the uniform of the royal court, lauded Aisa. She looked completely stone-faced, but her voice revealed her elated mood. She was a maid and friend of Aisa who shared the same age. Her gender-neutral face and short haircut made it easy to mistake her for a boy, but she became well-versed in fashion and everything clothing related while in the capital. She was the one who chose Aisa’s fashionable dress, after all.
“Ehehe. Shall we be on our way, Kay, Atema?”
Leaving the royal court, we passed through the eastern gate, aka The White Serpent Gate, and found the main street leading to the court where giant buildings lined on both sides. Aisa couldn’t help but let out a yelp of admiration.
The streets were clean and well maintained, to the point that we thought we were in the heart of the capital. That wasn’t what Aisa was wound up over, though.
There was a motive behind us going out together today; a conversation we had at the dining table last night:
“I’m going to the market to buy a few ingredients tomorrow,” I said last night while intending to ask Hagan to cover Aisa’s lunch for today.
Before I was able to ask him, though, Aisa jumped in and suggested we go together. I figured she had something to buy from the market as well, but it seems she just wanted to get out.
Aisa’s life in the palace could only be called confined, and while that’s not really the case, she generally doesn’t wander outside the court. She’s free to walk in the garden, playground, library, and many other places that’d make me think she’d never get bored. I guess that’s why she wants to see the outside.
Getting permission from the head of servants, it was decided that Aisa will go out with me tomorrow, with Atema coming for safety’s sake. This put Aisa in high spirits this morning.
She almost skipped her way along, humming to herself. The dress she had on was different from any other clothing she wore in Asilia or any banquets. This one felt to be reflecting her cheerful heart.
We continued down the street until Aisa came to a dead stop. She moved her sight in a certain direction with her mouth half agape. A husband and wife were also walking that way.
“Aisa-”
“We need to turn left, Master Clear.”
“Hm, okay.”
Informed by Atema, I checked the map I had on me. We’d reach the market faster if we continued walking straight, but since that means we’d cross an unsafe area, the head servant ordered us to take a different path.
We headed to the left and walked ten more minutes to reach the entrance gate. It was an old, dome-shaped gate with an impressive structure that welcomed shoppers.
The capital is divided into seven grand blocks, each with its own market. This one was established by the former king, Aheed, and has the longest history among them all.
“Bless the land, sea, and sky.”
Those words left by Aheed were carved in the gate. They’ve been weathered by hundreds of years of tempests, making them hard to read.
We passed the gate and stepped onto a brick-paved path.
“Shilda melon for one akache!”
“Thirty akache for a catfish! What do you say, ma’am?”
“Fried red lizard! Get your fried lizard!”
The spacious street bustled with shoppers while merchants shouted the price of their merch.
This market established in crossroads was divided into four main sectors: The two sectors we’re visiting, which cover everything to consumables, were lined in a straight line that stretched nearly one kilometer before crossing the entire market. Various stores of different purposes laid on both sides.
“I didn’t know there was such a big market…”
Aisa was just as shocked as me when I visited for the first time.
I used to follow Aisa as she’d guide me around the market back in Asilia. That’s probably why, despite me being the outsider, felt like her senior here.
“It’s my turn to guide you this time, but I’m not all that knowledgeable about this place, either.”
“Okay.”
In a delighted attitude, Aisa took my hand, and the three of us disappeared inside the market’s busy throng.
Produce, seafood, meat, dairy products, spices, seasonings, steamy dishes, snacks, alcohol, luxury goods… I watched Aisa’s cheerful reactions and realized that the joy of roaming a market full of ingredients doesn’t change, wherever we go.
As we came to a fishmonger full of the day’s catch, Aisa approached the counter and peeked at the faces of the fish with an intrigued look. It was her first time visiting one.
An octopus, one of her favorite dishes, attracted her attention as she hesitantly attempted to touch its tentacles and bulbous head. I would’ve waited for her to touch it, but under the vendor’s dubious glare, figured it was best to pull her along elsewhere.
“What did you come to buy, Kay?”
“I came to buy a bunch of ingredients to keep the kitchen stocked.”
“Do you always come by yourself to replenish the stock?”
“Not always.”
The royal kitchen is contracted with various vendors that directly supply the necessary ingredients. There are some cases where a chef has to establish a new contract, but that’s not the job of a regular chef like me.
“I came to get something only I can buy today.”
“Something only you can buy…? Ah, you mean the curry spices?”
“Well, you just reminded me of that, too… but today…”
I came to a halt in front of a shop handling legumes. The barrels placed outside the store were filled with colorful types of beans. This store has every kind of bean I could want. From dry beans, collected from nearest farms, to even pre-soaked and pre-seasoned beans.
I was told by Hagan that the royal kitchen has contracted with them and that they are the best legume shop in the capital. The store was indeed loaded with various types of goods I’ve never seen in the palace.
I left Aisa gazing at the inside of the store and went to check on the different bags of beans. I stopped next to a particular bag and called the salesboy.
“Can I check the inside of this bag?”
“The east vine beans? Sure thing!”
I waited for the salesboy to fill a small bag with east vine beans, then checked for quality. The beans were small and round, with the subtle texture of tree bark. I checked their smell as well, but I restrained from biting one.
“It’s similar… I’m lucky.”
“Similar to what? Tell me, already.”
A bitter smile reached my face as I watched Aisa run out of patience.
“They’re similar to soybeans, a type of bean in my world. I came to look for them.”
“Soybeans…”
In order to accomplish the order I received from King Shayde, which was to share the food culture of Earth with this world, finding soybeans was an important step to take.
I bought the entire bag for 70 akache. 100 Akache makes for a tupa, and 1,000 tupa is the average cost of living for a year in the capital. 70 akache seemed to be a low price for 15 kilograms of soybeans. Although it only seemed like that for me and not for Hagan who scolded me harshly when I reported him the price.
“What are you going to cook with those beans?”
“I can use them to make bean dishes, but I’m more interested in using them to make seasoning. You’ll find out later, just look forward to it.”
Having got what we came for, we spent the rest of the time strolling around. Aisa had fun looking around the several shops we passed by. Whenever we’d pass by a shop for spices, the first thing out of her mouth was if there was something there we could use for curry. And whenever we passed by a store for imported tea leaves, she’d consider buying some as a present for Isela.
After carrying the heavy bag of beans a good while, we decided to take a short break; stopping at the crossroads in the center of the market, which, to our benefit, happened to be made into a little park. The park was filled with stalls and snack merchants for park goers. We sat around a round table in a dessert store and placed orders.
“I mustn’t make an order. I do have Lady Aisa’s fee, however.”
“It’s fine. No need for the head servant to know this.”
I convinced Atema, who subtly suggested paying for Aisa, and paid 14 akache for the three of us. We ordered a dessert made from Shilda melons. It was more like brown noodles dyed with a strong sauce extracted from boiled melons. It reminded me of a dessert pasta that I used to eat on Earth.
“There’re only Shilda melons there. It tastes much better that way, doesn’t it?” the kind lady managing the stall stated as she placed the plates on the table with a loving smile.
I almost pointed out that she shouldn’t pickle the melon skin, but that’d be rather rude.
The texture of the strong, yet sweet melon combined with a slightly salty taste created a harmonious flavor. The soaked and minced seeds spread on top left a bitter, but great accent.
“Delicious! Have you ever tasted something like this, Aty?”
“This is my first time tasting it as well.”
“My husband came up with this recipe recently. Come try some again if you liked it,” the lady laughed with a boast.
I felt I made the right choice by coming here when I saw Aisa and Atema’s pleased faces. On our way back, Aisa went to a toilet and left the two of us to wait.
“Thanks for today.”
“What do you mean?”
I expressed thanks to Atema, who looked at me with a befuddled look on her face.
“All I did was follow you and Lady Aisa… You even treated me to dessert. I’ve done nothing worth garnering thanks.”
“I don’t believe Aisa would’ve been able to enjoy herself like this had you not come together with her. It’s thanks for that.”
The best thing about today was being able to see Aisa happy like she used to be back in Asilia.
“I mean, you know… after what I did….”
The maid who refused to let me in Aisa’s room that night was Atema. She didn’t blame me like Isela did, but her stoic demeanor made her gaze seem awfully cold.
“My first priority is Lady Aisa’s happiness… and besides…”
She remained quiet for a moment, then continued with a surprising statement:
“I kind of understand how you felt that night, Master Clear.”
“You… do?”
“Yes.”
The feeling of denial towards Aisa’s death as a sakla- This was the first time since coming to this world that someone openly said just what I felt.
“I was born in a neighboring country and didn’t come to the capital until I was eight due to my father’s work circumstances. I was allowed to work in the royal court as a maid due to his connections. Fortunately, I’ve never had to attend a ganzara since all my acquaintances are still alive.”
The reality of Atema being foreign to this country was a blind spot for me. Come to think of it, it wouldn’t be weird for a foreigner to be appalled by the ganzara. The problem is…
“Lady Aisa demanded that I consume her when she ripens… so, when that day comes, I will surely…”
What Atema said wasn’t particularly reassuring in regards to being against the sakla custom, but rather made me unsure about her willingness to go along with what we both disapprove of.
“Seeing Lady Aisa enjoy herself like this made me very happy as well.”
“That’s good.”
As usual, her face was expressionless, but her voice exhibited her elated emotions. I felt slightly relieved to have agreed with her on this point, at least.
“The both of you look like the father of the country and his lover in the folk story.”
“I… can’t agree with you on that…”
Again, Atema said something I couldn’t agree with, but made me flounder around for a different reason this time. While our age gap’s too big to consider us as having any real relationship, Aisa might not want me to treat her as a child.
Aisa came back and interrupted my train of thought. Our stroll in the market continued.
“Are you okay, Kay? You’re staring at me a lot.”
“Ah, well… Sorry.”
My earlier conversation with Atema made me feel a bit awkward about my position. I wonder how the traveler in the tale fell in love with the daughter of the first king. Did he make her happy when the both of them returned to his world?
Perhaps, if I was able to take Aisa back to Earth- What the heck am I thinking!?
A stupid idea flashed in my mind for a second, then disappeared.
I wonder if I’d ever come to accept Aisa’s wishes as Atema had. If I’m unable to by the time she ripens, what in the world do I say to her?
Several thoughts occupied my mind, leaving me absent-minded on our way back and Aisa mad for the rest of the night.
***
Back in my personal kitchen, two days later.
“… Are these the vine beans you bought from the market that day?”
“Yeah.”
I answered Aisa while adjusting the fire on the furnace.
Several trays were scattered around the floor, filled with pre-soaked beans. I washed them thoroughly yesterday and left them to soak. Aisa picked a bean from the closest tray and stared at it.
“It feels like they’ve swelled up; they’re even pliable now.”
“That’s because they’ve been absorbing water since last night… try splitting it in half and see if it’s hollow inside.”
“Okay.”
Following my instructions, Aisa split the bean and positioned it to get a closer look.
“How does it look?”
“It’s tightly packed on the inside, I think.”
“Good. It’s time we begin, then. The fire is well adjusted too.”
Ascertaining that the trays, cauldron, and steamer were all set, I declared:
“We’re now making miso from the beans?”
“That’s right.”
This can not only be included in Aisa’s meals, but sets the stage for sharing Earth’s food culture with this country.
My plan was to wash them wholly, leave them to soak for a day, and then boil them- steam them, rather.
Yesterday, I took three chefs with me and went to the same store to purchase a few more dozens of kilograms. I had to ask for their help since there’s no possible way I could carry that alone. I also took this opportunity to teach them the way I make miso.
I had them take turns learning how much water to use and how to manage the temperature by stirring the beans every so often.
“Aisa, isn’t it hot for you?” I asked Aisa, who was stirring the cauldron with a wooden spatula.
”I’ll be preparing Japanese miso with the beans we bought.”
It was no sooner than I’d said that that Aisa jumped up and was trying to get me to let her help. I knew she’d want to.
Today’s process wasn’t a difficult one. I was familiar with Aisa’s cooking back in Asilia, so I didn’t mind temporarily entrusting it to her. Although, standing near a furnace emitting intense vapor and heat isn’t easy, even for trained chefs. Aisa’s neck and arms were beginning to turn red and sweaty from the heat.
“I can do it for you… You don’t have to force yourself.”
“He’s right, Lady Aisa.”
The three other chefs followed my lead. One stepped in and suggested switching only to get rejected and forced to step back to his place.
“I’m fine. I’ve spent most of the time here served by others; I should at least help this much.”
There’s no denying that Aisa was a hard worker from when we were in Asilia. Feeling impressed by the broad smile she revealed, I was made to realize the same truth for the second time. Aisa doesn’t seem to have the least objection to her lifestyle as a sakla.
“Alright. Just tell me if you get tired.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t forget to wipe your sweat so it doesn’t fall in the cauldron.”
I put a clean towel around her neck and left, leaving her in the care of the other chefs.
My next destination was the bath. Not the bath reserved for royal chefs, but a single unused bathroom given to me for a reasonable purpose that is obviously not bathing.
Upon opening the glass door, a sweet fragrance resembling that of alcohol leaked out with the steam. The floor was cramped with wooden boxes, inside of which white flowers were blooming. It was mold, or koji.
Koji is an ingredient raised from grains covered in yeast plants. It’s an indispensable element in making miso, soy sauce, vinegar as well as in brewing alcohol. I spent a considerable amount of time preparing koji since the day I started my training in the palace.
The first thing I did was ask any merchants, chefs, or scientists about its existence in this world. Unlike Earth, where the culture of koji has extensive roots in Japan, Thailand, Vietnam, and entirety of east Asia, the chances that it didn’t exist in this country was undeniable. However, fermented products such as yogurt and cheese did exist so I had my doubts. They ought to have koji, too.
I had trouble explaining the word koji in the country’s language, but I thought it was well worth it when I received some good news after one month. We found out that a southeastern island country used a similar ingredient called ‘Karukk’ in alcohol brewing. It has a white and fuzzy shape and grows on rice.
I dealt with a merchant to bring them to me along with the seeds used to grow them.
Apparently, the yeast plants of this world have many types and give varying flavors to the brewed alcohol depending on the grains they cover. I ordered as many types of koji as I could.
On Earth, yeast plants grow in warm, damp environments. That’s why I thought that raising them in the capital where it’s warm and close to the sea could work. I steamed rice, wheat, beans, and several other grains; left them in a damp place with a high temperature for a while, and waited until, eventually, white flowers started growing from the rice.
Next, I moved them to this bathroom equipped with a floor heater and continued observing their development throughout the following days. Needless to say, my monitoring of the temperature, humidity, and amount of bacteria was as fuzzy as ever compared to when I used to entrust everything to technology back on Earth.
My days observing the growing koji continued along with my increasing gratitude to science until, finally, I was able to collect a sufficient amount of Karukk.
Returning to the kitchen when the sun started setting, I confirmed the quality of the beans cooked by Aisa and the chefs before doing anything else. Around that time, an unexpected member joined us.
“Is something the matter, princess?”
“What, am I a bother?”
“No, not at all…”
I was confused to see her standing there when I came back from the toilet. I was sure she’d never go near me again, much less help.
“I invited her to help.”
Aisa explained the situation while Isela looked in my direction with a bitter face and nodded.
“She couldn’t come earlier because she was busy with work.”
“I finished in a hurry to come and play with you, Aisa.”
Aisa tightly held Isela’s arms while Isela, herself, was showing an embarrassed expression. I unintentionally smiled by watching her making such a face to Aisa.
“Are you smiling?”
“Ah, sorry.”
I moved the beans from the water to their trays and crushed them into tiny pellets before mixing them with an adequate amount of salt and koji. Mixing in ingredients is always a fun part of the cooking process. Next to Aisa, who had a sparkle in her eyes, the princess who wasn’t used to the sensation of mixed beans and koji seemed pretty nervous at the start, but soon enough she became engrossed in making the mixture.
After mixing them to a decent level, we rolled the mixture into hand- sized dumplings and placed them in a wooden bucket with a stone weight. Now all that’s left is to wait for the yeast plants to convert the bean starches into sugar and hopefully lead to their fermentation to eventually get well flavored and nourished miso at the end.
We concluded the task by carrying everything to the warehouse. It was already late at night by the time we finished.
For a little celebration, I treated everyone to the sweet alcohol and koji-pickled sashimi I made beforehand. Both were well received, making me happy to have advanced a little bit in my mission of sharing Earth’s food culture.
I have no idea whatsoever how the miso will turn out in half a year.
“Half a year!?”
“Yeah.”
Aisa, who just found out about it, opened her eyes wide. She was assuming it was only a matter of a few days.
“Why does it take that long?”
“It needs three months to first gain its flavor, then another three months for the flavor to fully develop.”
“Three months…”
I could tell that the period of half a year was down to three months in her schedule, but she still looked disappointed.
“We just have to be patient and wait for it like we’d wait for a flower to bloom… I mean, there’s an undeniable chance that it will fail in the first place so…”
“It’s that hard to make, huh…”
Looking down in dejection, she uttered with a heavy voice. Fortunately, it didn’t take long for her mood to brighten up.
“But… promise me to make the best miso in the world in the next two years!”
“The next two years…?”
Contemplating her words, I immediately understood what she meant. She wants the miso to “ripen” before she does as a sakla.
“I’m sure you’ll make the best curry and miso, Kay. I’ll always be looking forward to it.”
She was obviously talking about the time when she will be eaten. I couldn’t find the words to reply to her innocent and cheerful smile.
The same question I asked myself many times flashed in my head yet again. Will I be able to cook Aisa when the time comes? Will I be able to eat her?
In either case, I’ll have to face the challenge of eating human flesh sooner or later, regardless of when she ripens. That time was waiting for me in one month and a few days later.
***
“I’ll decline the position of sakla preparator for the time being. However, with your permission, I’d like to be responsible for her meals from now on.”
The next morning after the celebration, I made my request to the king and Hagan. It was a rather selfish request to make, but both of them readily agreed.
“Per your wishes, I shall have Hagan replace you as official sakla preparator, while you shall continue as her personal chef.”
The king calmly made the call to switch my duty, causing me to doubt his decision instead of feeling happy about it. His decision was too tolerant, considering the confusion I caused last night.
“In return, I will have you share the knowledge of your food culture with us. Our sakla has chosen you. It would be unbecoming to not properly hear your wishes on the matter.”
The king explained as if to respond to my doubts while Hagan, who was standing behind him, waited for the opportunity and added:
“I have no objection, so long as his majesty has forgiven you. However, your dismissal as a sakla preparator may only be temporary. Thus, I will have you work with me.”
***
The middle of the second month, 486th year of the monarchy calendar. The warm capital was starting to get chilly, welcoming the fast approaching winter.
One morning, Aisa and I had our normal breakfast together, then I left the royal court with Hagan by carriage, as ordered. We crossed the main street that lays behind the northern gate.
The inside of the carriage was dead silent. Both of us were wearing a different uniform and sitting there quietly; my heart, however, was about to beat out of my chest.
In my last ten years as a chef, I was no stranger to pressure.
I’ve gone through several tense situations in the past, like a time I was entrusted to make a main dish for the first time. Another time was when we had VIP patrons in the restaurant, or even just recently when I presented my cooking to the king in a banquet.
My current situation, however, was a far cry from the others. It was the first time I’ve been overwhelmed by pressure… or by fear, rather.
Today, I was going to cook human flesh for the first time in my life. The most important skill a sakla preparator must have is mastery preparing humans, obviously not my strongest point.
Hagan’s condition for me to continue as Aisa’s chef until she ripens was to attend funerals with him and acquire experience by cooking the deceased.
Our destination was a ganzara-specialized kitchen where a certain family sent the corpse of their dead- A kitchen for preparing corpses as the main ingredient.
Working in such a place was unthinkable for me when I first heard of its existence. Sadly, I had no other choice but to accept Hagan’s condition and follow his instructions. This was coming sooner or later anyway, as I’d have to go through it when I’m as a sakla preparator. Instead, I had the impression of the king being too soft when he let me off with only two conditions.
We were welcomed by a middle-aged married couple. The husband, who noticed our arrival, was visibly taken aback.
“Did you come from the royal palace…?”
“That’s right. My name is Hagan, and this is my subordinate, Clear. Please allow us to prepare your daughter.”
Listening to Hagan’s reply, the couple seized our hands with teary eyes. Hagan gripped his wrinkled hand in return as if to respond to their feelings.
“Thank you very much… Please take care of our daughter.”
“Make her into the finest delicacies, I beg you.”
Nodding to their requests, we stepped into the kitchen.
“She’s a girl…”
“She was 16 years old when she passed out during an accident two days ago.”
I held my breath. A sakla ripens when they reach 16. Typically, a funeral in the palace is directed by royal chefs while those outside are directed by local chefs, in which quite a few specialize in preparing humans.
Hagan specifically looked for a funeral outside the palace just so I could gain experience. He deliberately chose a young girl that I could relate to Aisa.
“The corpse has been placed inside a cooler for a day. The flesh must be ripe by now.”
I couldn’t help sensing some sort of implication in his words, treating the deceased girl as a food ingredient. I felt as if he was telling me that Aisa will eventually end up the same.
The kitchen wasn’t as spacious as that of the palace, but it was sufficiently broad. The first thing entering my vision when I opened the door was something placed on a table, covered in a white tissue.
Hagan grabbed the tissue, revealing what was inside of it; the dismembered limbs and parts of the girl. Bones were extracted from the flesh that was already separated by component while the insides were well washed and processed, ready for use.
I’ve seen the process of butchering animals many times, I’m no stranger when it comes to fish, fowl, and other smaller types. The dissected creature in front of me now whatsoever was clearly a new type. I mean, it was a human being that was alive and kicking only two days ago. Seeing the depth of this cannibalistic culture laid out before me, I was ready to vomit.
I wonder what I would’ve done had I saw the girl while she was still alive. I can only guess I’d be long gone.
“It is indeed a shame for the girl to have passed away from an accident. However, this is a good thing when it comes to funerals. In cases of sickness or poisoning, we would have had to remove many tainted parts. In this regard, the fact that she conserved her pretty and clean shape after death is a bonus.”
Unlike me, frowning and resisting the urge to vomit, Hagan gazed at the girl’s body with serene eyes.
“You must never show contempt for life, Clear.”
“Contempt?”
You can’t be serious. How can dismembering a person’s body like this not be contempt for their life? How is it considered sacred to cook each and every part of the body, season it all, and serve it on plates as nourishment that will ultimately be excreted as waste?
“Well then, let us begin.”
This is what this country is about, after all.
“Extol the departed. Praise young buds of life and embrace the cycle of life and death.”
A passage of a hymn of nourishment recited by Hagan resounded in the kitchen, interrupting my train of thought.
Hagan, the head of the kitchen department in the royal court had attended several funerals since the era of the former king. He exhibited his professional culinary skills and cooked the previous sakla, Yuan. He was also assigned to cook Aisa before I came along.
With all that experience, he displayed many of his techniques as I worked under him. Using three different knives, he easily separated meat from bone, tenderized it, and changed its shape.
I read a guide about human preparation and was taught about the dishes we were going to make beforehand, but when it came time to turn perform, nothing went right.
I wasn’t surprised, though. After all, it was my first time dealing with human flesh. I couldn’t control my bewilderment towards the peculiar elasticity and stickiness of the meat.
Well, I might’ve been using my unfamiliarity with the flesh as an excuse. What troubled me the most was that I was preparing a human for consumption. The smell, the sensation of the flesh, everything kept me from working as I was supposed to be able to.
“What’re you slacking for? Move your hands.”
“…But-”
“You accepted my condition. You did it by your own will to stay by Lady Aisa’s side. Take responsibility.”
“That’s…”
He was right, I was the one at fault for hesitating now. This girl passed away from an accident. She’s different from a sakla that’d been murdered. What I was doing was nothing but a part of the funeral’s custom. There was nothing to feel guilty about. Rather, I should feel glad about being able to help out her family.
I tried convincing myself but failed, losing to the inherent fear of touching another human’s raw flesh.
I couldn’t suppress my reluctance despite knowing well that I wasn’t doing anything wrong in this world’s values.
I just could not continue. Under my values, my mind would not allow this act that seemed to rebuke the life of this poor girl.
“Clear.”
I heard the voice of my instructor, this time sounding kinder.
“You said that you bury your deceased in your world. There are many countries here that do the same thing… My homeland included.”
“…Yours too?”
“Yes… Aisa’s personal maid is also a foreigner, if I’m not mistaken. The monarchy is open to all of the world. There are plenty of foreigners working in the palace as well.”
This means Hagan, too, had his period of culture shock when he came to this country. I quietly listened to his speech as he continued while rubbing the smashed flesh in the spice.
“All of my parents and siblings have been buried. Now that I’m old, I’d prefer to disappear instead of rotting under the earth, alone, after my death. I still remember the forlorn death of Princess Isela’s mother very well. She passed from a sickness that prevented us from holding a ganzara for her. It was such a sorrowful time.”
His words recounting the death of the queen sounded wistful and at the same time, somewhat enthusiastic. I recalled a particular girl who said a similar thing the other day.
“Our job is an important one, Clear. We connect the spirit of this poor girl with her family through the medium of food… And I think that it is a very noble duty.”
His words were like silent fire.
“Spirit…”
Is there such a thing as spirit or the afterlife? I wasn’t particularly a materialist, but I didn’t believe in such things, either.
I gazed down at the flesh on the table before me. It was the shin, composed mostly of lean muscle, probably because the girl was thin. She was using this leg to support her weight and walk only two days ago, I thought.
Her relatives, according to Hagan, were all waiting for this part to be cooked so they can eat it. So they, the living, can eat a part of a once living human, just like them.
“I understand that your world was different, but… can’t you help in supporting this country’s culture as well?”
His speech ended there. Only the sound of his knife reverberated in the kitchen.
I continued gazing at the shin flesh. I became well aware that the ganzara is a noble custom of this country and that I had to do what has to be done. But still, there was no justifiable reason to do it.
Passing my finger over the flesh, I felt absorbed by the elasticity of the muscles, the girl’s feeble remnants of life. I knew nothing about her. All I knew was that she was once alive, nothing more.
Unlike my life, that was coincidentally rescued by Aisa, this girl wasn’t lucky enough to survive. She was left to rot in the earth or become a temporary part of her relatives. The ganzara made that decision for her.
To finish, I expressed gratitude to the flesh and gripped my knife. This was my first time truly offering gratitude to an ingredient by reciting the word ‘itadakimasu.’
***
The bonfire faintly illuminated the dark ceremonial site near the ganzara kitchen.
The married couple and many of their relatives assembled for the girl’s banquet. The table was filled with a variety of flesh and entrail dishes made by our hands.
Stuffed and fried meat cooked in a stew until it was fall off the bone tender; served along with a pickled meat lettuce wrap grilled over the fire. The girl had been butchered into diverse dishes presented to the attendants of the ceremony.
Hagan and I stood in the corner of the site, gazing at that scenery after leaving the rest of the work to the waiters.
“How does it look, Clear…?”
I didn’t respond to Hagan’s question, I just continued staring at the view of people enjoying the girl’s flesh.
Some were stuffing their faces with tears streaming from their eyes. Others were literally savoring each mouthful of the plate with their eyes closed. There was also an old man sipping from a bowl of noodles with a cheerful face, but his eyes bloodshot.
“Delicious. You’re so delicious, Yugl.”
“Thank you, Yugl.”
Everyone at the table uttered that name as they enjoyed the food. Apparently, the girl’s name was Yugl.
“Mm… Yugl… you taste great… you taste the best… Yugl…”
A boy, seeming to be the same age as the deceased girl, cried out more than anyone else at the funeral. I could only imagine his past relationship with her.
“Hey, uncle.”
“Hm?”
Realizing that the word ‘uncle’ was referring to me, I looked down and met the eyes of a little girl.
“Did you call me?”
“Yeah.”
The little girl nodded with a cheerful, innocent smile… I’m an uncle now, I see.
“Was it you who cooked my sister, uncle?”
“Yeah, that’s right. Is something wrong?”
The girl who seemed to be Yugl’s little sister handed me something instead of answering. It was a large skewer of grilled meat. Yugl’s grilled meat, evidently.
“I…”
“I grilled it. Kayk grilled it.”
The little girl, Kayk, stated while pointing at the bonfire. I wasn’t surprised as I was the one who seasoned the raw meat to be given to attendants who will grill it themselves. What startled me was the meaning behind her gesture.
“Why are you giving me that…?”
“It’s not uncommon for the chef of a ganzara to also dine with the family, but it’s not mandatory.”
I turned around and saw Hagan also eating a skewer. He didn’t seem reluctant at all.
“It’s a chef’s honor to accept it, I must say.”
“I-I see.”
I reverted my gaze to Kayk who was still holding the second skewer.
“Eat it.”
She made an effort to stand on her tiptoes and push the skewer at my face. She genuinely believed that I would eat it, and thus connect with her big sister’s spirit.
“Did you eat already?”
“No, um…”
I didn’t know how to answer her as she looked at me with her head tilted.
Just like the time I found out Aisa’s fate, and the time I saw human flesh in the kitchen, this world keeps pushing its twisted ways on me. I managed to overcome my anxiety and cooked the flesh, though that doesn’t mean I don’t mind eating it.
“You don’t wanna?”
“That’s…”
Kayk’s eyebrows hung down in response to my hesitant attitude. In her belief, refusing to eat her sister was equivalent to denying and disrespecting the precious life she lived.
Since it wasn’t necessarily a duty, Hagan didn’t interrupt. He only watched the two of us, waiting for my decision.
“Can’t you help in supporting this country’s culture as well?”
The earlier question flashed in my head.
“Yugl is delicious, you know.”
Delicious. I started seeing this word as taboo. It was a word that crossed morals in this context of cannibalism; especially for me, after barely undergoing the experience of cooking the girl.
The boy who was yelling earlier entered my peripheral vision. A few moments later…
“Yay!”
Kayk revealed a delightful smile. I bit into the meat and stuffed the first piece on the top in my cheek.
This is human flesh. The taste and fragrance spread within my mouth. Salt, seasonings, the accent added by charcoal, and most importantly, the flavor of the flesh itself.
“See, I told you. She’s delicious.”
I don’t remember how I replied to Kayk’s innocent, harmless remark.
***
“I’m sorry for not making your lunch and dinner today.”
“It’s fine. It was an important job, after all.”
Returning to the palace, I visited Aisa’s room to pour her some tea. It was the same brand I tasted back when I first met the king. Her room was decorated with a facial portrait, dolls, and a shelf containing tea utensils and tea leaves.
“Hey, Kay.”
“Hm?”
Aisa called my name as she sat, embracing her cushion.
“You worked in a funeral, didn’t you?”
The hand I was using to pour the tea shivered for an instant. I only told her that I was going to work, but I knew she’d find out somehow. Yet, I couldn’t hide my wavering once I heard that question.
“…Yeah… I accompanied Hagan.”
No need for lies. I honestly affirmed while pouring the tea in the cup.
I placed the container and handed her the teacup which she took with her eyes unaverted.
“It was the funeral of a girl who passed away in an accident in the seventh block…”
Urged by her quiet, lucid gaze, I continued talking about my first experience in cooking a human body. The feeling of guilt tormenting my heart pulled back a little as I recounted.
Aisa listened to the end without taking a single sip from her teacup. She finally drank a mouthful when she judged I finished my speech.
“I think you did a splendid job. I agree with Hagan-san, you performed a very noble service.”
“…Thanks.”
Aisa praised me. My feelings were still the same, but I felt somewhat glad and thanked her.
A few minutes passed with the two of us saying nothing, just listening to the sound of a clock resounding in the room.
“But… I’m a wee bit jealous. You know that?” Aisa said, setting her teacup down.
“What?”
My gaze shifted from my cup to Aisa as she said something off-kilter.
“Jealous of who?”
“The dead girl.”
I was taken aback for a moment. Aisa continued, interrupting my chance to catch up with what she said.
“I know you participated in the funeral for the sake of the girl and also for me. But still, I’m kinda jealous to see you cooking and eating others before my turn comes. I guess that’s weird, huh?”
Weird? I wonder if anyone else in this world could answer such a question. I’ve been aware of this fact for so long now: Aisa desires to be eaten. She yearns to die.
“At least become a great sakla preparator by participating in as many funerals as you can.”
“…Why?”
“That’s a silly question, Kay. You’re the one who’ll cook me in the future. It’d be troubling if you couldn’t make me utterly delicious. I was born to be eaten, after all.”
She said all this with her chest puffed out and her ashy hair swinging about. As I thought, neither her voice nor her face showed a sign of fear or regret.
“I’ve been born with the best and most delicious body in the world.”
“The most delicious in the world.”
“Yes, the entire world.”
“A divine taste. A flavor that descends from the heavens to your mouth.”
I recalled Hagan’s explanation of a sakla’s taste.
“It’s almost blasphemy to compare a sakla with the flesh of a mere human,” he once said.
The taste of Aisa’s blood when she revived me was still engraved in my memories. The word ‘delicious’ is evil. So evil that it drove me to think of committing the most heinous taboos in existence.
“I wanna eat her.”
The moment that thought crossed my mind, I felt something gush out of my chest.
“Bhue!! Bha!”
“Kay?”
Failing to resist my second urge to vomit today, I threw up my stomach’s contents all over Aisa’s floor. Undigested food violently soiled the grid-patterned carpet beneath us. I saw the remains of the flesh I ate earlier scattered about.
“Are you okay?”
Aisa kneeled down with me and rubbed my back. Lifting my head, I met her worried eyes.
“Ah… Y-Yeah!”
I managed to endure the third time and placed my hands on top of the stained carpet, breathing roughly.
“Should I… Should I call a doctor?”
“N-No, I’m fine… Sorry for dirtying the carpet. I’ll go out for some fresh air.”
Trying not to look at her directly, I stood up and left the room.
“Are you going to be okay alone?”
“Yeah…”
Breathing the fresh night air made me feel much better. I was able to calm down and forget about the vomiting sensation. But I couldn’t forget about the single thought that crossed my mind earlier; it left me disturbed and frustrated.
“What… Just what the hell was I thinking,” I asked myself while staring at the night sky.
I definitely knew the answer, but didn’t want to think about it.
I could now recognize this world’s constellations. A new world isn’t new forever. It’s only natural to adapt to a new environment by taking time to integrate with it; breathing the same air and eating the same food as its citizens.
The day when I will no longer be a foreigner to this world will inevitably arrive, too. The question is which will come first, that or Aisa’s ripening.
The answer to this question was more frightening than my doubts about returning to Earth.
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