Natto

Sunlight stabbed through my eyelids. I bolted upright, heart racing as I registered how bright it was. Ugh. Way past morning.

My head throbbed, memories of last night trickling back. Dragging Uncle Huang's drunk ass home. Hiding Ten's wine jar under a pile of straw. Collapsing into bed with more questions than answers about Inorin.

Damn it. I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes. The more I learned about this place, the further I felt from understanding what happened to Inorin. Why would she abandon these people? Why did Ten hate her so much? None of it added up.

Peng rolled over in its corner, letting out a sleepy "peng" that matched my mood.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm getting up."

The moment I stepped outside, a villager's shrill voice cut through the air.

"Kuroha! There you are!" She waved from her garden. "Gran Gran's been asking for you all morning!"

My stomach dropped. Getting summoned by that cranky old lady couldn't mean anything good. Probably wanted to chew me out for skipping field work yesterday.

I trudged through the village to Gran Gran's hut. The familiar scent of dried herbs hit me before I even reached the door. Inside, Gran Gran hunched over her work table, her gnarled fingers weaving stems and petals together. A half-finished bouquet sat before her, whites and purples flowing together in an arrangement that actually didn't look half bad.

Gran Gran's head snapped up as I entered, her wrinkled face twisting into a scowl. "About damn time you showed up! What, did you get lost between your bed and my door?"

"Sorry, I-"

"Save it! I need your help with these flowers."

I blinked. "Me? With flowers?"

"Yes, you! The men in this village would sooner crush these flowers then arrange them properly."

Looking at my calloused knuckles and remembering how many things I'd broken just this week, I wasn't convinced I was any better.

"Ugh, Gran Gran, I don't think-"

"Those jars." She pointed to a collection of glass containers filled with various flowers. "Start picking combinations that look good together. And don't just grab whatever's closest!"

I approached the table. Flowers weren't exactly my strong suit. The last plant I'd handled was that baby basil I accidentally knocked off the windowsill at home. Poor thing never stood a chance.

"What's all this for anyway?" I asked, picking up a white blossom that looked ready to fall apart in my hands.

"Do you live under a rock, child? It's Kanon's coming-of-age day!"

"Oh. Right."

"'Oh right' she says. Pah!

I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to flip the table. Everything about Gran Gran's attitude made my blood boil and I just-

No. Deep breaths. I wasn't about to punch an old lady.

"What's the big deal about coming-of-age anyway? She turning eighteen or something?"

Gran Gran's fingers froze mid-weave. She fixed me with a stare that could wither crops. "You really are dense, aren't you? Coming-of-age isn't about years. It's about your Lobak!"

"How does that even work?"

"Sweet merciful- sit down before you hurt yourself trying to think." She jabbed a finger at the stool beside her. "Coming-of-age celebrates your Lobak's growth. For Kanon that means these flowers."

I picked up a purple bloom, turning it over. "Because she can make them appear?"

"Finally! Signs of life!" Gran Gran snatched the flower from my hands. "Yes, child. Her Lobak lets her create flowers because of her father."

Something Uncle Huang said last night clicked. "Wait. Lobak comes from what you want most, right? So she wanted to make flowers for her dad?"

"The village chief was always sick. But seeing Kanon's flowers brought him joy. That desire to make him happy shaped her Lobak."

"But he's gone now?"

"And with him went her purpose." Gran Gran gestured at the jars of flowers around us. "That's why we're doing this. Maybe seeing these different blooms will spark something new in her."

I stared at the half-finished bouquet, seeing it differently now.

"Now stop gawking and help me finish this arrangement! These old hands aren't getting any younger!"

As we worked, my thoughts drifted to Kanon. What must it be like, having your power tied to someone you lost? At least I still had hope of finding Inorin. The memory of that Rust wearing her face made my stomach turn, but it meant she had to be here somewhere, right?

"Stop daydreaming and hand me those white ones!" Gran Gran's bark yanked me back to reality.

By the time we finished, my fingers were pricked and stained green. I stumbled outside, blinking at the orange sky. When did the sun started setting?

"Kuroha! Get back here and carry this!"

I bit back a groan. Of course Gran Gran wasn't done torturing me yet. The moment I lifted the bouquet, pain shot through my injured shoulder. That crafty old hag probably planned this.

Gran Gran led me to Ten's hut, shoving me through the door before I could protest.

The smell of food hit me first: savory aromas that made my stomach growl. Uncle Huang sat sober at the low table, surrounded by villagers I recognized from the fields. Peng already claimed a spot right by the table, vacant staring at the food.

My fingers tightened on the flower's stems. The scene hit too close to home.

Five years ago, I'd stood outside our apartment door much like this, knuckles bruised and uniform stained with blood that wasn't mine. The daikon keychain Inorin gave me dug into my palm where I gripped it.

Fat lot of good that anger management trick did. The moment that asshole started giving his shit just for talking to me, I lost it. Broke his nose, probably some ribs too. Don't really remember much after the first punch landed.

Now here I was, expelled. Again.

How the hell was I supposed to tell Inorin? She'd so proud when I made it two months without fighting. Said I was finally growing up.

I could run. Wouldn't be the first time I'd slept rough. But the thought of disappearing, of Inorin coming home to an empty apartment...

I shoved my key in the lock, twisting it with enough force to probably break it. Better to get this over with. The door creaked open-

FWEEEEEEET!

A party blower smacked me in the face.

"Welcome home!" Inorin gave another enthusiastic blow of the party blower,

I blinked hard. Our tiny kitchen table overflowed with food. Streamers hung from the ceiling fan, dancing lazily in its spin.

"What the hell is this?"

"It's a celebration! For your expulsion!"

"...What?"

"Your expulsion!"

I stared at her, wondering if she'd finally cracked. "There's nothing to celebrate about getting kicked out."

"Oh please. Any school that expels the person defending someone instead of the actual bullies doesn't deserve my precious niece."

"But I messed up again."

"Hey." Inorin's hands landed on my shoulders, party hat sliding off just slightly. "You stood up for what's right. That's never a mistake. We'll find you a better school. A school that actually gives a damn about its students."

The tears I'd been holding back all day spilled over. Inorin pulled me into a crushing hug, party blower squashed between us.

"Come on, come on!" Inorin dragged me to the table, her party hat now hanging off one ear. "You must be starving after beating that punk's face in!"

The spread before me was classic Inorin comfort food - rice balls stuffed with salmon, miso soup with extra tofu, grilled mackerel. Simple dishes that somehow always tasted better when she made them.

Then I spotted it. That cursed container of fermented evil.

"Inorin. Why is there natto?"

Her grin turned demonic. "Well, this can't be just a celebration, can it? You did punch someone's lights out."

"But-"

"And what better punishment than you most hated food?" She picked up the container, the beans making that horrible sticky sound. "Think of it as a reminder to use your words next time."

I stared at the natto, my stomach already turning. "You're evil!"

"Love you too!" She sang, plopping a generous serving onto my rice.

The memory of that slimy, stringy texture made me shudder. Just as I was reliving the horror of choking down each bite-

SPLAT!

A wet sound yanked me back to Ten's hut. Every head turned toward Peng, who sat motionless by the table.

In front of it now laid a bowl of natto.