Foreign Tastes
Two
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Sesshoumaru woke to the same sound that he fell asleep to. After putting on his clothing with practiced ease that nonetheless left him uncomfortable because of its unusual simplicity – not to mention that it had been a long time since he clothed himself with any regularity – he investigated it, suspicious about falling water within doors that was neither like rain nor like a stream or a waterfall.
He tracked it to the bathing room, and, upon entering, stared numbly at his host washing under what he now recognized as a shower. He wondered if she would be upset, and curse him.
"Please close the door," she said. "You're letting cold air in."
He closed the door.
After a while, she turned around and faced him, the water running through her hair and darkening it without making it lose its brightness. "Do you have to wash yourself often?" she asked.
"It is sometimes a pleasant sensation," he said. "I usually prefer – preferred to render myself clean without letting down my guard."
Fuji nodded, closed her eyes, and tilted her head back to get the hair at the front of her forehead. After a moment, she turned sideways and reached for a bottle of something, pouring a little out into her hand before working it into her hair. "They say," she said, "that cleanliness is close to godliness."
His brows furrowed.
"But then they also say that this stuff is unscented."
He snorted, relaxing. "Human idiots."
"Mmmhmm." Her head now a mass of tiny bubbles, she stepped back into the spray of water and washed it out. One eye opened very slightly to watch him.
He looked back, then dropped his gaze, self-conscious.
"You should probably wash as well."
"I am not sure I wish to."
"Of course not. Something like this is a—" she checked a moment, but continued almost apologetically, "a Western thing."
Sesshoumaru tensed momentarily, but sighed and deliberately relaxed. His lands were, admittedly, part of a single island, and could not hope to hold their old title against two continents – although, he thought mulishly, his had been first.
A soft but very recognizable chuckle – hers – made him look up again, but he looked down again almost immediately. Best not to take any chances.
"Come on," she said. "There's enough room."
And so he learned how to use a shower.
When they had finished and redressed themselves in fresh clothing, she frowned momentarily and gave him socks, sandals, and a jacket. "We will be getting you modern clothing today. You have a choice: you can go with civilian clothing, or with military."
"I have always been a warrior."
"Right."
She took him to an army surplus store, told him to choose a color scheme, and after holding a few pairs or pants up to him and looking measuringly back and forth, chose several and sent him to find a pair of boots that would fit. When he had done so, he found the pants folded neatly by the counter, and added the boots to the pile before stalking around the room in inspection.
The sales clerk watched him nervously, and suggested that he might want a hair tie.
Sesshoumaru looked at him, raised an eyebrow, and proceeded to ignore him.
Fuji came back and selected a leather jacket and a woolen coat from the racks for him, then paid for it all and had him carry it back out to her car. He found another two bags in the back seat and settled dubiously beside them, unwilling to risk her wrath by asking.
"I got you a roll of thong, if you want to tie up your hair," she said suddenly. "In the little one."
Taking that as a suggestion, he looked through the bag – almost delicately, as though it might try to bite him – until he found the roll, measured out a length, and cut it with a nail before gathering his hair at the top of the back of his head and tying it off. It made him feel like his father, somehow, but that made him angry and he tossed his head to shake it off. His hair flared in an arc that pleased him, but he decided not to try it again just yet when he saw Fuji frown a little in the tiny front mirror.
He frowned himself as he put together a grammatical form he hadn't used since his father's death, repeating his question several times over to make sure it would come out evenly, and not like some idiot who was still learning the language. As he did so, he watched until she looked less distracted, then spoke: "Fujinigami."
"Yes?" She glanced at him via the mirror, then looked back at the road.
"May this one humbly ask why you have graciously condescended to aid one such as myself?"
"Please don't talk like that," she said. "I'm helping you because I want to."
"Surely it would only be proper for this one to humbly render due respect—"
"Aagh, stop it," she said, and he shut his mouth in the middle of a verb he had nearly started stumbling over. "My keigo (1) is a little rusty since it's been so long since people used it regularly with me in person. Besides, conversation is much more interesting when you can speak more quickly, don't you think? I'd prefer it if you used plain form." (2)
"Truly?"
"Yes."
"I'm not very used to that," he admitted.
"Yes, I know. You were an arrogant bastard in the old days, weren't you?" She glanced at him in the mirror again, smiling. "Just use the same form I do. Alright?"
"Alright. May I ask why?"
"I have an image to maintain," she said. "If everyone were to be ultra-polite to me for no apparent reason, people might get suspicious."
"You do not wish them to know…?"
"They'd be more likely to try and lock me up than to believe it. In things like this, it is often less troublesome to let them feel superior and safe."
"You do not need them to worship you? Forgive me."
"Fuji is one of the most famous mountains in the world," Fuji said with simple pride. "That is good enough for me."
"I see," Sesshoumaru said, and thought he did.
When they returned to Fuji's house, she watched him figure out the modern clothes, frequently grinning but never outright laughing, and stepping in to help whenever he started to get frustrated. There was a precarious moment when she zipped his fly for him (since he hadn't known he needed to) but he managed to keep from flinching or attacking, and she didn't mention anything so he assumed he did well. The rest he got fairly well on his own, though it took some staring. Then she led him to a mirror.
"I do not look like myself," he said.
"No," she said cheerfully.
"It will take some time to get used to these new clothes."
"Of course. In the mean time, take those boots back off, alright? And come have some lunch."
He did so, sitting opposite from her when she permitted him to do so, folding easily into a cross-legged position. He had nothing to do with his arms, so after a few intense moments when he was uncomfortably aware that he looked ridiculous, Fuji took pity on him and folded her arms across her chest, which he copied. She studied him for a moment, then shook her head.
"You look like a sulky teenager. Try putting your hands on your knees and leaning forward a little."
He did so, and this time she nodded. The same girl from before entered at that moment with bowls of miso and rice, and a platter of some kind of hot, dark brown meat with vegetables he didn't at first recognize. He regarded it uncertainly.
"Try it," Fuji suggested.
He did so, and found it to be tough and strongly flavored, but acceptable. "Forgive my impertinence in asking, but… Why do you choose to eat as a human?"
"I'm living as a human," she said, looking surprised.
"Yes, but…" Sesshoumaru said. "You aren't."
"That depends on who you ask. And, as I've said before, humans can get kind of twitchy if you try and convince them there's a better race than theirs out there. I don't need people to know, so it's easier to just go along with it. The same goes for you, by the way," she added suddenly.
"Me?"
"Uh huh. I think you'll find that people either just won't see anything odd about you, or they'll find explanations they call logical."
"Such as?"
"Tattoos. Contacts. Bleach. Or you might be a foreigner, so look out for prejudice."
"This—"
"Of course, they're wrong, but there are over six billion of them these days. And since you're not allowed to just attack whoever offends you, I'd recommend you get used to living as a human too."
"I see," Sesshoumaru said, and subsisted back into his meal.
"Are you not hungry?" she asked.
"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"
"Are you not hungry? You're not eating much."
"I'm sorry."
"No, I'm sorry. Is it too spicy? Too cooked?"
"… A little," he admitted.
"Alright! In which case, leave this to me." She snagged the platter. "Rin-chan?"
The girl opened the door and knelt just outside it. "Yes?"
"Quickly make something less spicy and more raw, please."
"Yes." She closed the door.
"The girl's name is Rin?"
"Mmmhmm, meaning 'plum,' of course. Her parents are Chinese."
"Rin," Sesshoumaru said, and stared after her for a moment. Then he finished his miso, and the meal went on.
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(1) keigo – the super-polite form of speech, these days usually reserved for use towards a customer or a superior in business, or for letters and conversations over the phone. Roughly translated into English, it sounds a lot like how Sesshoumaru was talking for a while there.
(2) plain form – used in compound clauses, a sort of neutral form unless it's the only form used, in which case it either indicates superiority or intimacy. It's fast and informal, but not actually rude unless misused.
AN
I'd like to remind us
(since it's been so long) that Sesshoumaru thinks that Fuji is a
god (and will continue to refer to her as Fujinigami) because her
scent, appearance, voice, actions, and words all seem to corroborate
this belief. She is, by the way, trying not to shatter his illusions,
if illusions they be.
If anyone wants to tell
me what she is, of course, then you're more than welcome to do so.