A Few Hours to Prepare

“The Benz family dwells in Forre Tree. Much history is hidden within the walls of the family’s home, but even more can be found in the nooks and crannies of the Tree itself.”

—Robin Benz

My breath catches in my throat. “Already?”

Roo strides over to my bedside, arms crossed. Mirei asks, “What should we do…?”

“I don’t know how the people of your world served justice, but in ours, it’s like a debate. There is a presiding judge who oversees the debate between defendant and prosecutor. The more complex the issue, the longer it will take,” Roo explains.

I blanch. “Y-You can’t be serious. A debate? What about evidence, materials, and lawyers?”

Roo shakes his head. “You’re allowed to gather evidence and support your case. As for experts in law, we only have lawmakers and law-enforcers. I can counsel you on how our law works in this world, if it would make you feel better.”

I moan in despair. I’m horrible at arguing with people. In fact, I’ve hardly ever argued with anyone. Even if Roo were to give me the most advanced course on law, I don’t think it would amount to much. Just as I’m ready to shoo everyone away and fall asleep until the trial, Mirei slaps her fist against the palm of her hand.

“Let’s do it! Tell us how the trial will work and how we can win!” She states. Her expression is stern and determined. I find myself admiring my eight-year-old little sister.

Roo hums in amusement. “Very interesting. I see you are determined to plead your case, Mirei. I shall teach you all that I can. As for your brother…” He raises his eyebrows at me.

Mirei turns her head to me, eyes burning with passion. She’s incredibly fired up about this, enough to make me feel bad about not trying at all.

I gulp, eye twitching. “F-Fine. I’ll try and learn something, too,” I squeeze out.

“Can you sit up?” Roo asks me.

I gingerly prop myself up on my elbows. I don’t feel any pain, so I try to use my hands to sit up fully. Once I get into a full sitting position, the blanket covering me slips off. I immediately snatch it and cover myself. After all, I still don’t have a shirt on.

Roo’s mouth quirks up into a quizzical smile. I hold the blanket tighter to me, challenging him. He simply shrugs his shoulders and walks toward a tremendously ornate closet cabinet. Its tall and wide structure towers over us beside the bed. He grabs one of the gold handles, opens the door, and fishes around for something. After a few seconds, he brandishes a black linen shirt.

“Would you like this shirt, Haruki?”

I… suppose a shirt would help me. The one wrapped around my hand is positively filthy. I nod and outstretch my hand. Roo immediately yanks it away.

“Not yet. Your skin is…” His eyes trail down my arms.

I look down, eyeing the smudges of dirt and blood. “Alright, I’ll wash up and then wear the shirt. We have to be quick, though.”

I’m sure Roo’s lecture on Trial 101 will last the whole four hours before the trial itself. I whip off the blanket and pad over to the open doors leading to the hallway.

Mirei and Roo catch up to me, with Roo walking next to me and Mirei walking behind. Because Roo’s room is at the end of the main upstairs hallway, I know to walk forward. However, the main hallway has multiple smaller passages branching out from it, so I look to Roo for guidance. Usually, he’s the one standing in front of us, but he stubbornly keeps his pace next to me.

“The bath house is within the hall directly opposite the staircase,” Roo guides. Once I see the great awning of the staircase to my right, I turn into the hall Roo mentioned. Mirei gawks at all the paintings lining the walls. They’re draped in precious jewelry and glitter in their polished wood frames. Each is a beautifully colored rendition of a person. They all have similar facial features, so I think to myself, Could they be Roo’s relatives?

Mirei pokes Roo’s elbow with her index finger. “Hey, Roo, who painted all these? What paint did that artist use? How did they manage to make it so pretty?”

Roo simply answers her endless jet of questions with ease. “A man by the name of Robin Benz. Huli paint, made from the natural dyes of native plants. Skill.”

This back and forth goes on for a long time until we reach the end of the hallway. An endlessly tall wall looms before me, with nothing on it except a sconce glimmering with spheres of white light trapped within it.

I glance at Roo, eyebrow raised. He nudges me into a doorway to our left. Once the door is opened, steaming air coats my face in a dewy mix of floral scent and soap.

So this is why Roo smells like that, I realize absently. Then I shake my head violently. What am I doing, thinking about that? I rake my fingers through my hair, but then they get caught in all the knots. I scowl and march forward. This hair is going to take ages to detangle; best get a start on it now.

Roo immediately yanks me back— and because I have no shirt to yank, he decides to go for the hem of my pants. I trip backward but not before righting myself. I refuse to fall into the arms of this guy!

“Get your hand out of my pants, you cretin!”

Roo scoffs. “Stop being a prude. Would you rather I grab you by the hair?”

I open my mouth to retort, then close it. I bite both of my lips between my teeth and shimmy away from him. Mirei cackles beside me.

“Anyway,” Roo starts. “Take off your shoes before going any further. Just put them over there.”

He points to a jade shoe rack embedded into the white walls. I unbuckle the straps of my boots and toss them in. Mirei starts doing the same for her sandals, but Roo stops her.

“This is the men’s bath house. The women’s is the door opposite this one. Would you like to go in there, or stay with your brother and I?”

She contemplates it for a moment. Then, she decides, “I’ll go into the women’s. I’m going to be a woman soon, after all. I gotta get used to it.”

I chuckle quietly, watching her roll her shoulders back and strut out and behind the door. Roo unbuckles his sandals and tucks them neatly into the shoe rack next to mine.

“Now we can go in.”

We climb the two steps leading away from the foyer and into the bathing area. It’s incredibly large, most of it being the bath itself. Steam swirls around the calm surface and pours out into the milky white floors. I see something colorful flash from between the mist, so I squint and take a step closer.

It’s a pink water lily of some kind. Several more glide into view, gently swaying with the bath water. My breath catches in my throat.

“How beautiful,” I murmur. Roo strides forward, bare feet hardly making a sound against the misty floors. I follow him, gingerly placing one foot in front of the other. The floor is wet from all the steam, so I’m careful not to slip. Beside a small staircase leading into the bath, there is a short rack holding towels. Roo walks toward this and begins unclipping his belts.

“Just hang your clothes here and take a towel,” He says. Then, after a moment’s contemplation, he adds,” Don’t worry. I won’t look.”

“Okay,” I say, frozen in my spot behind Roo. “I won’t look either.”

“Okay.”

We undress silently, back to back with a meter’s distance from each other. Somehow, the silence is more oppressive than the heat.

I first unwrap my right hand. Now that my attention is on it, I can’t believe Roo never asked me about it. He definitely knew that that hand wasn’t injured despite it being wrapped. And yet, he never asked me why I had my hand wrapped in my shirt.

After hanging the dirty shirt on the rack, I begin slipping off everything else.

A splash of water behind me tells me that Roo already wrapped a towel around himself and began wading into the bath. After hanging up the rest of my clothes, I wrap one of the white towels hanging on the rack around my waist. Then, I step into the bath.