Why Are You Friends With Such a Retarded Child?

I stared at Gran Gran, mind spinning like Peng after rolling too much. Lobak? Was that some kind of fancy tea ingredient?

"I don't get it."

Gran Gran's face crumpled. She turned to Kanon. "Why are you friends with such a retarded child?"

"Gran Gran! That's not nice! Ten told me she's a sky person, so please be a little forgiving. She doesn't know anything about our world yet."

"Hmph."

"Can someone please explain what Lobak is?" I waved my hands at the now empty teacup.

"You explain it to her." Gran Gran shuffled back toward her bed. "I'm too old for this." She yanked the screen closed with a snap.

"I'm so sorry about Gran Gran." Kanon bowed deeply. "She can be a bit... direct sometimes. But her heart's in the right place! And her tea really is miraculous."

"Yeah, miraculous at making me want to scrape the bitterness off my tongue."

"Good medicine isn't meant to be sweet!" Gran Gran's voice drifted from behind the screen.

"Weren't you going to sleep?"

A loud, exaggerated snore was the only response.

Kanon sighed and gestured for me to follow her outside Gran Gran's hut.

"Anyway, let me explain Lobak. It's the life force that flows through every living thing in this world. And, well, it's easier to show you."

Kanon held out her palm. A soft pink glow pulsed beneath her skin, and a peony blossomed from nothing, unfurling its petals one by one.

I poked at the flower. It felt real, complete with a faint sweet scent. "So you can make any flower appear?"

"Only ones I've seen before." The flower vanished as she closed her fist. "And that's all I'll ever be able to do with my Lobak. No matter how much I practice, I can't manifest anything else. No trees, no grass, just flowers."

"So Gran Gran's would be... making bitter tea?"

"Healing tea, but yes. She's spent decades perfecting it. That's the other thing about Lobak. You have to cultivate it. Practice, refine, discover new aspects of it. It's not just given to you fully cultivated."

"So what's my Lobak then?" I flexed my fingers, trying to feel for hidden magical energy.

"Oh, don't worry too much about it. Your Lobak will probably reveal itself when the time is right."

I glanced at Peng, who had fallen asleep in a patch of sunlight. Could this useless penguin have something to do with my Lobak? It had appeared right after I fell into this world, after all. But then again, what kind of Lobak manifests as a cylindrical bird with the intelligence of a grain of rice?

Just then a stocky villager trudged past us, sickle bouncing against his hip. He squinted at the two of us.

"What're you two standing around for? Fields won't harvest themselves before the sun comes beating down!"

"Fields? You meant actual rice field work?"

"Of course!" Kanon's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Did you think I meant something else?"

"I don't know, maybe cleaning or... something not involving mud?"

"Think of it as showing gratitude to Ten. She protects us, so we help tend the fields."

Manual labor for some blind lady who tried to stab me last night? Totally normal, not cult-like at all.

I shuffled after Sickle Guy. After a few steps, I realized Kanon's footsteps weren't following.

"Aren't you coming?"

"Oh, that. I've got to wash your clothes. And Gran Gran's things too."

"Wait, but-"

"Uncle Huang!" Kanon called out to Sickle Guy. "Please take good care of Kuroha for me!"

"Come on, girl." Uncle Huang's calloused hand clamped around my wrist. "Daylight's burning."

"Wait-"

"Less talking, more walking!"

I shot Kanon one last betrayed look as Uncle Huang dragged me toward the paddies. She just smiled and waved, that traitor.

***

I stared at my blistering fingers, wondering how my life had come to this. One minute I was delivering chicken strips, the next I'm knees-deep in muddy water, learning how to use a sickle from a cheerful old man.

"No, no, like this!" Uncle Huang's weathered hands adjusted my grip for what felt like the hundredth time. "Smooth motion, see? Let the blade do the work."

His sickle sliced through a bundle of rice stalks with ease. Mine just sort of... flailed around like a drunk penguin.

Speaking of penguins, Peng lounged in the shade of a tree, living his best life while I suffered.

That piece of shit…

All around us, villagers waded through the paddies, their laughter and chatter mixing with splashing water and the rhythmic swish of sickles. Someone started humming a folk tune, and others joined in. Even the kids helping to gather cut stalks seem to be having fun, racing each other with their bundles.

"Why is everyone so... happy? This is literal torture."

Uncle Huang's belly laugh boomed across the water. "Harvest season brings the Huashan village together! Look there. Old man Li hasn't spoken to his neighbor Zhang in months over a property dispute. But here they are."

He gestured at two elderly men who were indeed cackling over something while tying rice bundles.

I tried to share their enthusiasm, I really did. But the sun beat down mercilessly, turning my borrowed straw hat into a personal sauna. My arms ached. My legs felt like lead. And somehow I had managed to get mud in places mud should never be.

Hold on… what time is it? I'd almost forgotten about meeting Jiko at noon.

I squinted up at the sun, trying to recall those survival shows Inorin used to watch. Something about telling time by looking at the sun's position in the sky? The blinding light sent spots dancing across my vision.

"You okay there?" Uncle Huang paused mid-swing. "Getting heat stroke?"

"No, I just..." My eyes darted to Peng, who had rolled onto its back, flippers splayed out. Hold on, I can use this. "Actually, Peng needs something back at the hut. Medicine! For its... penguin condition."

"Penguin condition?"

"Yeah, it's very serious." I pointed at Peng, who chose that moment to let out a content "peng."

Uncle Huang stared at me like I grew a second head.

"Anyway, gotta go! Peng needs its medicine! Come on, you useless bird!" I scrambled out of the paddy, scooping up Peng as it squeaked in protest. "Thanks for teaching me about sickles! Bye!"

I bolted before anyone could stop me, Peng bouncing against my chest as I ran. Behind me, I heard Uncle Huang's confused voice: "What in Ten's name is a penguin condition?"

***

I trudged back toward the village, my legs screaming from the rice field workout. Jiko had said I'd know where to find him, but did I really? Every hut looked identical: same thatched roofs, same wooden walls, same stupid wind chimes tinkling in the breeze.

I peeked into the first hut. Empty except for a worn loom and half-finished fabric. The next one housed stacks of clay pots. The third had a wrinkly old man who yelled profanities at me.

"Sorry! Wrong hut!"

Behind hut number four, I spotted a familiar figure hanging laundry. Kanon hummed as she pinned my hoodie to the line, completely at ease while I'd been suffering in mud hell.

That traitor. I ducked behind the corner, plotting my revenge. Maybe I could jump scare her. Or better yet, have Peng roll through her fresh laundry with its muddy feathers.

Just as I was imagining Kanon's horrified face, Ten appeared. She moved like a ghost, silent despite the bamboo poles strapped to her back.

Kanon's whole demeanor changed. Her shoulders tensed, hands fluttering like nervous birds as she spoke.

Wait a minute. 

Inorin's drunken wisdom echoed in my head again: When someone's in love, watch their hands! They'll wave 'em around like a drunk octopus.

Oh shit. Kanon's a drunk octopus, too.