An Unexpected Quality Of The Chief’s Son

“Communities in the forest become especially busy around the time of cultural festivals. Celebrations involve village-wide decorating efforts, cooking in bulk, and rigorous practice of the arts. Executing performances and creative works well is the most important to them.”

—Robin Benz

After traversing winding roads, we pass by a clothing shop. Instantly, I motion for Roo and Mirei to stop. They take one look at the shop and we dart right inside.

It’s been about four days since Mirei and I got transported into this world with nothing except the clothes on our backs and anything we were carrying with us at the time. We’ve been through the deepest parts of the wilds and the highest parts of the sky. There are tears and red dirt smudges all over us and it’s time to freshen up. Roo probably can't handle the smell of us either.

Inside the shop, a subtle plucking of strings sings in my ears. Low-hanging lamps decorate the wood ceiling and cast a warm glow over the racks of dresses, shirts, pants, and more. Rather than the button-down polos and ripped jeans I’m used to, I find linen shirts, brightly-colored tunics, breeches, and robes. A few people browse around languidly, floorboards creaking softly as they browse. Some of them glance at us newcomers, but then they return to what they’re doing. I’m shocked; isn’t this the son of their leader, the great and eminent Chief? I would think that they would swarm him screaming, asking for handshakes or something.

Could it be, I wonder, baffled. That the common people, besides guards, don’t know what the Chief’s son looks like?  I keep this discovery in the back of my mind. 

For now, I keep surveying the area. I don’t understand the little signs over many of the racks; they’re written in the flowing, elaborate characters of Roo’s language. I cast a questioning glance at him beside me, wanting to ask for his guidance, but he’s already pulling me along by the elbow. I stiffen.

“I will show you where your size is first. Your little sister’s size is much farther in the back.”

I shake him off of me quickly. “No, it’s not just finding my size that’s difficult. I also don’t know what’s…” I look away at a velvety robe displayed against the walls. “…proper to wear. I don’t want to stand out too much.”

Roo’s face remains impassive for a few beats, but then a monstrous smirk curls his lips. A small fang peaks out.

“You make a good point. Then, I shall pick out an outfit or two myself for the Takahashi siblings. Let’s make our way to the dressing rooms.”

Roo grabs my elbow again, strolling ahead. Mirei gazes very closely at Roo’s hand on her wrist, greatly interested in his nails. I have no such curiosity, but I also don’t want to be rude by ripping my arm out of his grasp. So, I tolerate it. It’s not like he’s touching my hand— that’s the part that I must keep away from others.

After meandering between circular curtains of clothes, we stand in front of a row of bark doors.

Mirei turns to Roo. “Bring me something with shorts, please.”

Roo nods and asks me, “Anything you want in particular?”

I shake my head and smile. “I’ll wear whatever you bring me.”

Roo smiles back and walks away, leaving us alone in front of the dressing rooms. I tell Mirei, “Don’t mess around in there, okay?”

Mirei plops her hands on her hips, eyes narrowing at me. “Why would I mess around?”

“Because you’ve had the Mir-Eye this whole time.”

Mirei purses her lips and looks away, like she’s trying to hide it. For the longest time, whenever something caught Mirei’s interest, she would stretch that item to its limits. This could mean literally stretching it or putting it through hell due to Mirei’s explorative nature. My mom eventually dubbed it the “Mir-Eye” because she gets this curious glint in her eye just before she tries anything outlandish.

“I won’t do anything.”

I state her down for a few more moments, just to assert that I really mean it and I’m not playing around. Then, I push the bark door forward and dip inside the dressing room. It’s incredibly spacious, much unlike the ones back on Earth. A lamp hangs from the ceiling and its light shines down over a mirror leaning against one of the corners, next to a small wooden chair. A handful of jade hooks adorn the stone walls.

Now, I think. It’s time to wait.

* * *

A torrent of clothes plunge onto my head.

“What the heck, Roo?!”

“Oh, did it get you?” Roo’s voice drawls behind the bark. I can hear the smirk in his voice. “My bad.”

I huff and run my hands through the myriad of fabrics. This is not just one or two outfits; this is at least five. Maybe Roo is actually a fashionista, I muse.

I hear a similar whump and Mirei’s yelp the next room over.

“Be quick, Takahashi siblings. Arenah’s shift at her shop ends in an hour.”

While I grab the first pair of trousers I see—a deep teal color—I wonder who this Arenah person is. Roo didn’t really say who she is, just that we should see her. I kick off my muddy sneakers. If she’s anything like Roo, I might actually cry. Besides his apparent love for skinship, he also confuses me. He is brutally teasing one minute, then considerate the next.

I shrug on a white linen shirt with teal embroidery. The collar is very loose and cuts open at my collarbone. I position myself in front of a body-length mirror propped up against the stone wall. It’s…

Actually quite good. The trousers are much like soft capris and the shirt fits me loosely, but not so much that I’m drowning in fabric. I’m surprised that Roo chose clothes that fit me so well. That isn’t something someone can get right in the first try in my experience, especially if that person knew you for a few hours only. I remember when I was younger, before I got sick, I always struggled to buy clothes for my friend at the time. Moreover, I’d known them for years.

It kindles a kind of dread in my gut, one that sprouts from the beat of my heart at the thought of Roo sifting through clothes. I can see him clearly in my mind: browsing around, scoffing at an especially outlandish pair of pants, a focused narrowing of his eyes. I still remember that expression from when he was reading my magic. The few minutes I spent by that pond keep forcing its way back into my memory, and I don’t like it. It’s a dreadful cocktail of feelings I’ve never had to deal with before. Terrible urges surface and lodge itself on the tip of my tongue, questions like, “How did you know my size so well?” and “Can you grab my arm again and take me to more places I’ve never seen before?”

I know Roo is standing just past that bark door behind me. I can see its surface in the mirror, a thin door I wish were thicker. The desire to never come out of this dressing room is so overpowering that I shock myself. And then, I mentally punch myself. It’s so unseemly— my battle between getting closer and running away. There must be something wrong with me.

I turn around and pull open the door, not glancing at it once. I expect Roo’s figure right in front of me, his critical gaze roaming over my body. But he is not there. I look right, then left. That’s when I see him, crouched down low, sliding a leather sandal similar to his on Mirei’s foot. He’s got this subtle grin on his face, only slightly obscured by a stray piece of hair that didn’t stay behind his ear. Mirei tugs at her brown shorts happily, humming.

Suddenly, I feel embarrassed. I’ve stepped past farther where I shouldn’t have. Roo is not concerned with me, not in the slightest. He picked out clothes that fit me well, and so? He’s just some noble who only wants to keep an eye on intruders who encroach on his country.

Roo stands back up and nods once. “Looks good. I hope you like that shirt; it’s quite popular among young girls like yourself.”

Mirei puffs her chest, tossing her hair back. I can see the colorful outline of a Xilio, caught mid-flight and diving toward a line cloud. Roo must see me in the corner of his eye, for he turns his head toward me.

He looks once, twice, eyes traveling from the collar of my shirt to the cuffs of my trousers. Then, he slowly points his index finger at my feet.

“You need shoes. I’ll be right back.”

Then, he stalks away, disappearing behind tunics and cylinder pillars. I sigh and shake my head. Mirei slides right in front of me and poses, one arm high in the air and the other crossed over her body.

“How do ya like my outfit, brother? Do I look ready to ride some massive fishies?”

I snort. “Like a professional marine rider.”

Mirei stomps her foot and instantly drops her arms. “Don’t mock me!”

“I’m not mocking you!”

“Liar!”

She starts playfully punching me, pushing out laughter with every hit.