Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Disney owns. The rest is just details.

The next morning

The first thing Belle noticed when she woke up was the bright sunlight streaming through the slits in the curtains of her bedroom window. The second thing was the intense pangs in her stomach, reminding her forcefully that she'd had nothing to eat or drink for at least 36 hours. She felt weak, dizzy, and faint. Though her eyes were open, she simply didn't have the energy to move any farther towards wakefulness. She clenched her teeth, willing the pains to go away.

I made my decision, she thought, unhappily recalling the events of the previous evening. The Beast told me I wouldn't eat unless I ate with him. I still refuse to eat with that creature. I'll just starve, locked away in this prison of a room. That would serve him right. She tried to remind her irritated stomach of her convictions, but it refused to listen. Instead, it let loose an angry growl that was so forceful it almost echoed around the room. Belle winced, and sat up slowly. She was still in her old clothes, which were dirty and torn from fighting the forest to reach her father the previous day. She'd removed her stockings and cape, draping them over the end of the bed, and her shoes were still at the oshiro front entrance. Belle could not remember if she'd ever begun a day in worse shape.

A light, hesitant tap on the door startled her. Belle slowly made her way to the door and opened it, blinking at what was on the threshold. Two of the onii servants waited there, one the small, bluish single-armed one who had been the unfortunate announcer of dinner the night before, the other a larger yellow creature with a button nose that turned up sharply, giving him an almost porcine appearance, and only one eye. Though it was hard to read their knobbly faces, both of them seemed simultaneously nervous and guilty. They both wobbled back a pace or two when Belle opened the door.

"O'hayo gozaimasu," Belle greeted them in Nipponese, puzzled.

"O'hayo gozaimasu," they both said in unison with deep bows. The small blue one gave an odd hop-skip forwards at the prodding of his friend. "Bringing morning greetings from servants," he declared in his halting Dutch, "May come in?"

"Certainly," Belle said, holding the door open so that the pair might enter. They kept their backs to her as they sidled into the room. Belle closed the door and waited. Both demons looked at one another, and then back at Belle.

"Also bring gift," the blue one admitted after a moment. From behind his back he brought a small bowl full of white rice and a pair of chopsticks. The other brought a delicate cup of green tea.

Belle's heart warmed at the sight. Clearly there was some decency left in this desolate castle! "Oh, thank you! Domo arigato gozaimasu!" She sat on the bed, and the servants placed the rice bowl in her lap and the tea on her bedside table. Belle drank the bitter tea in two gulps. Though it was lukewarm, she felt better just for having something on her stomach. Then she regarded the rice, and realized that she had no idea how to eat with the narrow sticks they'd given her.

"Does…does your master know that you brought this?" she ventured after a moment. The blue one shook his head vigorously, looking frightened at the thought. "What about the other servants?"

"Few." The blue onii, whose name Belle remembered as Dai, shuddered.

Belle realized the courage it must have taken for the pair to defy their Master's direct command. It was no good asking for a spoon or fork or they might be caught. Likely they wouldn't know what one was anyway. "How…how does one…eat with these?" she asked, indicating the chopsticks.

Both servants looked utterly astounded. "Do not know?" asked the Dai. Belle shook her head. Timidly, the onii hopped forward and arranged her hands around the twin sticks, then demonstrated with motions how to pinch the food and bring it to the mouth. Belle tried it. The rice fell back into the bowl. Traces of amusement began to appear on the onii's faces as they watched her. Belle tried again. And again. After at least ten tries, she managed to get a mouthful. Both servants broke into broad grins.

"Good," was the blue one's only comment. The pair watched her poor attempts at eating for another few minutes, clearly unwilling to leave their exotic guest. At length, the yellow one said something in Nipponese to the Dai, who translated carefully. "He say…you very brave."

"Not really. Just hungry at the moment," Belle said with a chuckle, "But thank him anyway."

The blue onii did so, then translated the reply. "He say, brave. Heard what happen in dungeon last night."

"He did?" Belle blushed. "That was not bravery. That was me trying to save my father from a terrible end. Anyone with a scrap of family loyalty would have done the same."

"Setsuko-san," Dai gestured to his yellow companion, "had lamp. Heard everything. Said speak very loud, very bold to Master."

"Wait a minute. It was him with the lamp? He led me to the dungeon?"

Dai translated her words for the yellow onii, who then nodded vigorously and pointed to himself. Belle smiled. "Thank you. Arigato." Setsuko smiled even more broadly and bowed. Then he said something else to the blue onii, who thought for a moment before translating.

"Setsuko say, two night ago, your father was in forest. Garden-onii hear fight and in-in-investigate. Is right? In-ve-sti-gate?" At Belle's nod, he continued, "They rescue father from men. Bring him here to oshiro. Thought they could keep from Master, but find out. Send their sorry."

"Oh." Belle tried to put together the muddled picture she had gotten from this. Apparently a group of onii who tended the gardens had rescued her father from his captors. That was why the men had looked so frightened when Koru had seen them come out of the forest. They had been terrified of the onii from the haunted oshiro.

"Please, thank them for me," Belle told the pair, "They did their best. It's not their fault their Master is such a brute."

Both onii jumped back at this. "Ah! Must not say such things! Master is always listening!" Dai cried.

Belle thought this reaction a little paranoid, but she did not say so. She did not want these two brave souls to get into any more trouble on her account. So she held out her empty rice bowl and teacup. "Here. You can take these now. And thank you again!"

Both bowed low as they accepted. "Do' itashimashite!" Then they scurried from the room.

Belle sighed and lay back on the bed, her stomach temporarily full and leaving her free to think about other things. But what to do now? On an impulse, she stood up and pulled on her stockings. She would go and find the kitchen, and perhaps discover a new method of smuggling food. Even if Dai and Setsuko continued to secretly bring her rations, that could not last long. They would inevitably be caught. Perhaps she could forestall that by coming up with some other way that did not involve the servants at all. Opening the door, Belle peered up and down the corridor. To her intense relief, there was no one there. Quiet as a mouse in her stocking feet, Belle slipped out of her room and started off.

Though she did her best to keep track of the various rooms and hallways she passed, Belle was soon lost in the maze of the oshiro again. It must take a hundred years to figure out how to get anywhere in here! she though with awe, but this gave way to a more unsettling notion: Just how long have they been here, anyway? The Beast, and his demon servants too? Am I the first human ever to set eye on these corridors?

One thing that Belle discovered while exploring the oshiro in daylight was that the frightening figures she had dimly seen in the lamplight were merely carvings and paintings of Nipponese deities done in a bold, simple style with brilliant colors. She was particularly fascinated by the depictions of dragons, some of which stretched the length of entire corridors. They looked very much like the Beast, long and snakelike with stubby legs and no wings, but with one noticeable difference. Their faces were not reptilian and pointed, but much more blunt, like the face of a dog. Belle paused to trace a smaller one with a finger. What other secrets lay hidden inside this castle?

At last, Belle thought she smelled something cooking. Following her nose, she rounded a corner and was met with a sharp squeal from the floorboards. Yanking her foot back, she stared. Everywhere else she had wandered the floors had been well-polished and completely silent. Putting her foot down, she pressed lightly. Again, the boards squeaked loudly, reminding her of the shrill whistle of a bird.

Of course! She remembered the Beast's words from the night before: "If ever you encounter a floor that sings like a nightingale…know that you are not permitted to cross it."

Belle took a deep breath, inhaling the savory aroma of soup. It was certainly coming from the noisy corridor. Did the Beast mean to keep her away from the kitchen? He had forbidden her to cross the floor before the fiasco about supper the night before, but perhaps he simply didn't want her disturbing the servants. Well, it couldn't hurt to investigate. Belle took a deep breath and set her foot firmly on the board, drawing out yet another protesting cry. Telling herself she wasn't doing anything wrong but feeling a bit guilty for her curiosity all the same, she slowly made her way across the singing floor.

There was a heavy set of double doors at the far end, which were closed tight. Belle listened a moment but could hear nothing beyond them. Likely this wasn't the kitchen; it would be full of the clatter of pots and pans and the voices of servants. Still, she'd come this far, and she'd always wonder if she didn't look now. With a slight effort Belle pulled open one of the double doors and peered inside.

It wasn't at all what she'd been expecting. Fabulous jewels, perhaps, or something as astounding. Instead, this room looked as if it had once been a beautiful sitting room and study but had been torn apart by a raging firestorm. The walls were charred black in places; most of the furniture lay in broken pieces on the floor. Belle mentally shrugged and prepared to depart, wondering why the Beast had wanted to keep this gutted place such a secret, when her eye caught a glitter of polished metal on one wall. With a gasp of admiration she stepped into the room almost involuntarily, for hanging on the right side of the room was a magnificent samurai sword.

Glancing this way and that to make absolutely certain that there was no one about, Belle crossed the room on light feet. She passed a low table, one of the few undestroyed pieces of furniture left, and noticed that there was a large bowl of some clear soup set upon it. So this was what she had smelled. Feeling the side of the bowl with one finger, she discovered it was room temperature. Someone had been in the room recently enough to leave the soup, but not recently enough to notice that it had been left uneaten. It boded well for leaving the room undetected with no one the wiser of her investigations.

Turning back to the sword, Belle forgot all about the soup. A few more steps brought her to stand directly in front of it. There it hung, naked of a scabbard or any sort of covering to protect it from the room's dust, soot, and mold. Belle knew very little about swords of any type, but even she could tell that this one was exceptionally fine, a far better caliber than the sword that Getsuru was so proud of. Like all Nipponese swords she had seen, it was slightly curved, and its hilt was wrapped in dark braid that left a lighter diamond pattern exposed. The outward-facing side of the blade was intricately etched with a riotous array of thorny vines without a single flower. No, that wasn't right. A hint of red showed near the hilt: a wilting rose. It alone of everything about the sword looked as if it had been there for years and not as if it had been forged the day before; the crimson dye had faded noticeably against the stark black vines. Curious about this difference, Belle reached out with a gentle finger to trace that lonely rose when she felt a puff of hot air on the back of her neck. She spun around, startled, and put a hand to her mouth to stifle a scream.

The Beast stood behind her, the tip of his nose inches from hers, lips curved back in a terrible snarl that exposed every one of his pointed ivory teeth.

Author's Note: Cue Phantom of the Opera organ run! (You know the one I mean, it plays every time the Phantom appears). My silliness aside, I have a few notes about this chapter. First, language: o'hayo gozaimasu means good morning and domo arigato gozaimasu means thank you very much. Second: I really wanted to put a 'Be Our Guest' sort of sequence in this chapter because it's one of my favorites from the Broadway musical, but it just doesn't seem to fit. So apologies all around for that.

SamoaPhoenix9