5 – Let’s Talk History

After the morning theatrics, things returned to some measure of normalcy. I made for the inn and did a few odd jobs around the structure, seeking whatever minor building mistakes that needed to be corrected. Come the afternoon I made my way to the back room, where Yomi tended to the evening soup in the sweltering kitchen.

“Mm,” I said, sniffing the spicy scent in the air. “Never took you for a good cook, but that smells damn good,” I said.

Yomi looked up from the hefty cauldron she was working at. With her hair tied back by a white kerchief, it was hard to believe at a glance that she was actually a former assassin and bounty hunter. “I had to feed myself a lot of the time on the road, and I told myself I wouldn’t eat unpleasant food. So I taught myself to cook. Hell, I even went so far as to buy and memorise a few scrolls all about cooking. I reckon I got very good at it.”

A strong boast, but not an undeserved one. I’d tried her cooking more than once and she was good at it.

Though, such memories left me a little uneasy. A reminder that, every few nights now, the sense of hunger I felt came bubbling back into my mind and body. I wasn’t supposed to feel hunger, and yet... It was coming back, seemingly at random intervals.

I kept that to myself. Even I didn’t know what to make of it.

“Well, they’re gonna pay a nice sum for dinner. Or, at least, I’d hope so,” I said.

“Of course. It’s a fair price for a decent dinner. Gotta treat our guests decently in that regard.”

“Mm.” I would have thought the beds and a roof that didn’t leak was already treating them plenty decently, but what did I know?

“Here.” She spooned some into a bowl for me and nudged it my way. “Have a taste test. I think the balance of ingredients is good... but it’s usually wise to get a second opinion. I’m trying something a little different, incorporating some of those potatoes of yours.”

I leaned over the wooden counter, which I had created and sanded with my own two hands, and stared intently at the wooden bowl of pale brown liquid, segments of diced vegetables floating in the steaming soup. “What’s in it?”

“Miso,” she said simply,

“You so what?”

She whacked me on the knuckles with the wooden spoon, and I couldn’t help but smirk a bit. “I think I’m better at cooking than you are at jokes!”

“Fine, fine. But as far as I’m concerned, I’m hilarious.” I raised the steaming bowl to my lips and took a long sip of it. The strong and salty taste filled my mouth, and I spent a few moments swishing it from one corner of my mouth to the other. “Yeah... Pretty good,” I said after I swallowed.

“Only ‘pretty good’, huh?” she replied. Yomi clicked her tongue inside her mouth. “Damn. Guess I’m killing myself, then.”

“So damned dramatic.”

She smirked at me, then set about adding a pinch of some dark powder to the cauldron. “So what in the world is going on with Yamato and Haita?” she asked. “They were late coming in today, and there was this kinda... tension between the two of them.”

“You know how young men can be,” I replied. We could be idiots. Gods knew I’d been one when I first tried to court Lydia. Still, it wasn’t my business to go gossiping about their business. If Yomi wanted to know so bad, she was welcome to go and ask them herself. “Whatever the case, I suppose the worst of it is done by now. They’ve... somewhat buried the hatchet.”

“The worst of it, huh?” Yomi asked. She got back to stirring her cauldron, focusing intently on the vat of liquid. “I always got the impression those two had some kind of history.”

“They do,” I replied. “And it’s not exactly a good one. But it’s not my place to go telling their story, or to dig up old wounds. You want my advice, Yomi? Let it lie. I’m hoping those two idiots can at least partially get along.” Last thing I needed was them butting heads under my roof, and her talking to them about it ran the risk of getting Haita in a mood.

Yomi shrugged. “Fine, fine, I won’t pry. Hell, I grew up in a sect if you’ll recall, one that probably made the Snake Flower look like a happy meadow. I’m no stranger to young men clashing, often over really stupid reasons.”

“Must’ve been a fun place to live.”

Yomi snorted. “I don’t miss it,” she said.

I paced the kitchen, my eyes briefly flickering across the clay stove. “So, how are we doing on guests?” I asked.

“Six people still with us, one newcomer from this morning. I think he’s a merchant from High Moon, looking to set up business out here in Tiode.”

“He ain’t the first.” I made for the kitchen door and opened it a small crack. In the commons beyond, at the crackling hearth, two bearded traders gabbled away about business and taxes as they paid some kind of dice game on one of the tables. Each one had a small stack of gin on their side of the table, the silver coins glinting in the firelight.

Merchants in Tiode had become an increasingly common sight, and we were one of the few places they could bunk for the night. Though, I was sure other boarding houses would be ready to go in no time at all. There was money to be made, and that sort of thing always brought in imitators.

That was why it was important for us to get a good reputation going right out of the gate. At least, that was what Yomi said. We had to be the first, and the best, that Tiode had for this sort of thing.

Well, the building was decently large. We had a dozen guest rooms, and our rates were fair enough. I’d seen plenty of roadside inns that were far worse to people than we were, and this was before my homeland was engulfed in a war.

“Still getting a lot of pilgrims heading over to Mount Gruai?”

“So I hear,” Yomi replied. “Saying prayers and leaving offerings. Whenever a bunch of yokai are killed in one spot, it becomes a big deal.”

I shook my head, closing the kitchen door. “Seems crazy to me. Only weeks ago half that mountain got blasted to a crater by a blazing lunatic.” I winced, still able to feel the sensation of that crushing, earth-shattering weight.

“Don’t underestimate how much we Tsukians hate yokai, Amon,” Yomi said, the corner of her mouth pulling into a small smirk.

“If Sha was any indication, I can understand why.” Crazy bastard. Even by my standards, the things he’d done to those Snake Flower disciples was sick. “What do you suppose that was all about, anyway? I don’t think he wiped that sect out solely for the fun of it. And then there was Inumi, and that weird gourd of his. Two powerful demons, both coming out to the ass end of nowhere.”

“Mm. Guess I can’t fault you for not knowing all the... details about that. The aspirations of the yokai. It’s not something the average person on the streets would be keen to talk about.”

“Well.” I folded my arms, leaning against the wall. “I have some free time, if you’d be inclined to indulge me.” I had no intention of getting involved further if I could help it. But I didn’t want to be totally ignorant on a matter that had nearly destroyed my new home more than once.

Yomi’s mouth split into a wicked grin. “Looking for a history lesson, eh?”

“Sure, why not.”

Yomi looked up at the ceiling as she stepped from the cauldron. “Guess I can leave this for a little while. And I got time before I need to get started on the sushi.” She snapped her fingers, motioning to a small table and chairs to the far end of the kitchen. “Get comfy. I’ll tell you all about the Demon King War.”