Chương 14: Book 1, Chapter 14: A Matter of Opinion

John pushed the door open, and Yuki slowly walked in not too long after him, still looking as exhausted as ever.

"This way," he said, guiding her toward the main building after he closed and barred the gate. All at once, the tension left his shoulders, and he breathed a sigh of relief. They were safe. No ambushes. No surprise spiders.

"Hey, Yuki?" he asked, and she flicked an ear in response, "Smell anything wrong?" Raising her muzzle, she sniffed the air before shaking her head.

"I'm not going to collapse," she said, shaking her head, "You don't have to worry about me so much. I've had worse since you've known me. I can handle being a bit exhausted." He bit the inside of his cheek, looking away. It's true, he supposed. Still, that didn't mean he had to like it.

"Lady Yuki, Lord John!" called a voice, and he tensed, spinning around to face them. It was just Aiki running up to them with a basket under one of his arms filled with produce from one of the gardens. John's heart nearly hammered its way out of his chest there, but he was admittedly a bit curious about what Yuki had them doing while they were gone.

The man froze when he saw their appearances, looking up and down Yuki's spider ichor-coated frame and John's grim expression with no small amount of worry and a hint of fear. John couldn't help but sympathize.

"Lady Yuki, are you okay?" he hesitantly asked.

"I'm fine," she calmly stated with a faint smile, "We merely ran into some trouble while we were out. Are you aware of the type of yokai known as the Nameless?" John didn't know somebody could go so pale so fast.

"I'd advise against leaving the fort unescorted." He hurriedly nodded. John quickly checked his notes to remind himself of some words before saying, "Would you mind grabbing some cloth from the building you slept in and bringing it over there? Check the fourth row of shelves on the left, second one in, third rack." He pointed towards the workshop. The man jolted, eyes widening as he looked over at him. Now, why would—Right! He had never really talked around Aiki before.

"Yes sir, Lord John!" The man hurried off, and John only hoped he understood his request. John did feel a bit bad for ordering him around; it felt like he bullied him into that, even though he tried to be as polite as possible. Yuki raised a curious brow at him, a wordless inquiry.

"New clothing for you after you bathe while I clean your kimono," he explained, "Does it have any special way it needs to be cleaned, or is a normal hand washing fine?" There was a sudden sparkle in her eyes as he explained himself, but she shook her head.

"I suppose I am due for a bath," she mused, "I would have expected you to question me some first. I did act a bit… differently." He huffed, shaking his head.

"There will be time later. For now, you rest. No falling asleep in the tub." She tittered, sticking close to his side with mirthful eyes and shaking off some of that tiredness in a fashion he found bizarre.

"Oh? You'll allow me to get my story straight before you interrogate me? How honourable." Huffing, John shook his head.

"Look. If you were going to do anything to me, you already would've. You're tired. I need some time to think. We'll leave it at that until after." Besides, doing some light work like making some basic clothes would help him… clear his mind, and he certainly needed time to think. The two of them went inside, with John leading Yuki to a room he hadn't shown her yet. The kitsune's ears perked, and one of her tails twitched. Had she really not looked around, at least a little bit?

He wasn't sure if he could resist were he in her position. John slid open the door, stepping into the stone room. He wasn't sure what it was before, but the stone floor made it an ideal bathroom… once he added some piping in and waterproofed the walls, at least, but those were pretty easy jobs. Towards one side of the room, a shower, with the drain directly inset into the ground. On the other, the bath basin. It was probably used for storing drinking water or hydrating horses at some point…

but all it needed was minor alterations to be a good enough bath. In this case, it was good that it was oversized for him; Yuki would actually fit without looking like a sardine in a can. Right! The locals had a custom of washing themselves before bathing; he remembered that from one of the books. Walking over, he briefly demonstrated the shower, getting little more than a smile and a nod from Yuki, then started running the bath.

"Is this too hot?" John asked after adjusting the tap. Wordlessly, Yuki walked over, ran her hand under it, and shook her head… before turning the cold water off entirely and putting the hot on full blast so the water came out absolutely steaming.

"Thank you," she said, giving him a smile and a slight nod. He almost forgot about her supernatural durability. Seeing that everything was under control, he headed to the exit, adding, "Feel free to use as much soap as you need," and nodding towards the vanity to the side. Sadly, the mirror was a sheet of very polished steel, but it did the job well enough. Still, he couldn't help but feel he may regret that offer later… Eh, that was for future John to worry about.

"I won't be overlong," Yuki said, and John shut the door behind him. He turned to walk away… but the door opened once more, and when he turned around to ask Yuki what she needed, he saw her arm sticking out with clothes in her hand. Oh. Right. Hesitantly, he grabbed them, very pointedly looking nowhere near the door and thus missing a few times, hands noodling around the general area, but he eventually got a proper hold.

Once he retreated with his prize, the door gently slid back shut, and he heard a vulpine titter from the far side. He sighed and fully admitted he should have expected that. How else would he have gotten Yuki's clothes? Whatever awkwardness he felt wasn't worth dwelling on, anyhow. John ran the fabric through his fingers and hoped what he had on hand was good enough for her liking. The black fabric felt like silk, but a few minor differences threw him off.

Unless he lost his mind, silk felt slightly more flexible and would be far less heavy, but the texture was unmistakable. Was it some sort of bizarre magical material native to this realm, perhaps? He never quite understood how Yuki took such a devastating blow to the leg and yet her clothing was unharmed, except if she put it on afterwards, but that felt incorrect. Regardless, the workmanship was incredible, and the gold thread accenting it gleamed in the light. He left for the workshop, heading outside…

only to see Aiki standing there, arms shaking as he held seven whole bolts of various colours of cotton. Shit, right; he never specified which! John quickly slotted his telekinesis focus into his gauntlet, hurried over, crouched by the door, and aimed through the gap between it and the floor. Grabbing the table on the far side in a telekinetic grip, he quickly pushed it out of the way before bolting back up, lassoing the bolts out of Aiki's grasp.

The antlered man stumbled, nearly falling as the weight disappeared from his grip. Upon seeing John, his eyes widened, and he hurried into a bow.

"My apologies, Lord! Forgive this servant for failing to interpret your wishes. I grabbed everything you may need!" Annoyance flashed across John's face, making Aiki visually flinch. He immediately felt terrible, and Aiki had already heard his voice, hadn't he? Whatever damage he might do was already done. Finding the words took him a few moments, but he eventually responded, "You're forgiven." Walking into the shop, past numerous machines that were irrelevant today.

Neither a lathe nor a magical vacuum field would be particularly useful in sewing clothes. He also didn't have the energy to actually sew, so the weird, industrial method it was! He really should get on trying to make a sewing machine, but they were surprisingly complex. He cleared off a table beside the entropy-order welder, which he really should come up with a better name for, then unfolded Yuki's clothes. He knew the sash across the waist had a name, but he couldn't quite remember it. Obi, maybe?

He wasn't sure. He also noticed it had pockets on the inside. Neat! Grabbing his knife and measuring tape, John hesitated before picking a colour but decided to mimic Yuki's existing robe with a nice, neutral black, much like what she already had. Colours, historically, were a prickly thing, less a mundane fashion statement and more a matter of class.

He didn't know what it was like locally, but purple in the West was traditionally a colour of royalty, and something like green might be seen as too "common," especially in duller shades like he had. There were so many rules throughout history surrounding things he was used to taking for granted that it was hard to keep track, even without adding in any variation from Earth's logic. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

He didn't know how much it mattered now, and he suspected Yuki wouldn't mind too much given the intention for it to be a spare anyhow, but it very well might send weird messages to Aiki and Haru. Wait a minute. He turned to see Aiki awkwardly hovering in the doorway, looking around the shop like a lost puppy. He craned his head this way and that, staring at everything from the drill press to the weirder, more esoteric devices with an equal amount of confusion. Shit.

He should have sent him away before starting to work… but then again, he was probably trapped here given the situation both in the woods and back in town, and he clearly had zero idea how to interpret any of these devices, so it wasn't like he was a security risk. What was he going to do? Tell another lower-class friend of his that the local hermit lord has a bunch of weird machines? They'd probably just write it off as something strange to do with yokai.

It didn't seem like they interacted much with them, and the man didn't have the ear of nobility or anyone who would know better.

"Lord John, may I ask a question?" he hesitantly asked, casting another furtive glance around.

"Yes," he stated, after fighting the urge to say, "You already did," but he wasn't sure how well that joke would translate or how the man would take it. It was telling that even he thought Aiki should take a chill pill.

"Are we in danger here?" he questioned, glancing toward the bloody clothing.

"No," he said. Aiki shifted uncomfortably, looking around while awkwardly standing there. He probably wanted more of an explanation now that John thought of it. John pulled out his notebook, looking through it as he searched for the best way to explain. Ignoring Aiki while he "read" probably made him look a bit insensitive… but he couldn't find the energy to care right now.

One day, he would have the ability to have a conversation like a normal person without referencing back to his book every five seconds; one day, he could be a normal person.

"The walls of the fort are near impossible for the Nameless to climb; they've been swarmed by dozens before without spilling over, and if they are coming, I will know," John explained, shaking his head before looking back to his project. After taking some rough measurements, he rolled some of the black out and started to cut sections free… plus some extra. He'd rather it be baggy than just not fitting. Would it be strange if he were to ask Aiki to wash her bloodstained clothing when he was done?

John sure as hell wasn't going to risk using the washing machine on something made of some probably magical material filled with gold thread. Ultimately, he decided to just wait and ask Yuki how to best clean it to avoid damage.

"Haru has a sewing kit, my lord. I'm sure she'd be happy to help you with this task. Would you like me to get her?" Aiki asked, although he paled a bit when John silently turned to regard him. Sweat beaded on his brow as he stared him down while considering. It was tempting, admittedly, but he had it under control and did not want to impose.

"There's no need. This won't take long. Look," John said, grabbing the welder and shifting to let the man get up close. It looked rather like a handheld propane torch, now that he thought of it, except it had two canisters on the bottom rather than one. Hesitantly, Aiki walked up, standing at a respectful distance but close enough to watch over John's shoulder.

Holding the welder in his right and two sections of the fabric in his left, his gauntlet provided more than enough shielding from its effects on such a low setting. John pinched two sections of fabric together, dialled the intensity to where he wanted it, flicked the safety, and pressed the first button. A brief flash of intensely gray energy bombarded the fabric and, seeing it wasn't quite enough, he gave it another quick flash.

One fundamental ability of entropy magic he always found interesting was its ability to break things down—make them less coherent—and this tool took full advantage. On the second flash, he saw what he was looking for; the fabric's pattern became less… stable, almost droopy, as it began to liquefy in a manner that should be impossible. Quickly, he pushed the other edge into the softened mass, which was resisting a lot like molasses.

Pressing the button once more, the new fabric immediately started to turn runny, too, with the two sheets intermingling. He then pushed the other button on the welder, and with a flash of white-coloured magic, an outpouring of order caused it to do something akin to crystallization. The fabric settled back into something akin to the original configuration. Sure, it would be a bit weaker due to its nature as fabric, and he could sew this if he really wanted it to last, but that could easily be a later job.

"See?" he said, trying to pull the corner apart, only to have it stay steadfast, "Using magic can make clothes easy." There was a long pause that made John think that he said something terribly offensive.

"You learned a technique for merging fabric together?" came Aiki's confused question.

"No, I made a process for merging almost anything," he explained, "Metal, stone, fabric, wood… It is quite useful, especially if I wish to join different materials. One of the few things it can't do is anything living." Take that, conventional welding; his aerospace engineer buddy back home would have killed for this! A frown crept onto his face as homesickness swept over him, but he couldn't afford to be weak, especially in front of his guest.

It was a shame its range was so limited; otherwise, it'd have made an excellent weapon. Confusion painted Aiki's countenance.

"I can understand how useful it may be for joining metal or waterproofing, Lord John," he said. He clearly didn't understand the implications. Should John hold back? …Maybe just a bit, but the desire to show someone something he was proud of was nearly overwhelming.

"Did you notice how warm the building you stayed in last night was, despite the small fire pit?" John asked. Hesitantly, Aiki nodded.

"That's because of this. I found everywhere heat leaked out more than it should and patched them all in minutes." The man's eyes widened.

"I see, my lord! It's a shame such fine work needs a strong master to power!" An expert in reading people, John was not. Aiki's thoughts were clearly about his home, and as much as he may want to explain further about how even a child could use it, even though they shouldn't, John held his tongue. It would invite too many questions. Even if the villager did not have the ear of the powerful, it might trickle back somehow, especially if he used it himself.

"A shame indeed," John muttered as he returned to his project, quickly doing the rest of the seam.

"Do you think the world would be better if the common folk had access to such power?"

"My lord?" His tone was suspicious, guarded. There was silence between them as John tried to puzzle out what to say.

"This is not a test," he finally settled for stating, "I'm merely curious about your opinions. Take your time to think." After a moment, Aiki had his expression turn thoughtful, and John turned back to his work, everything going swiftly. Fabric shears his knife was not, but the magical blade still went through it nonetheless. It wasn't pretty, but Yuki didn't seem to mind plain.

Although finely tailored and inlaid with gold, her kimono was relatively simple compared to many he had seen in the past from a hiding spot by the roadside. Some he had seen had beautiful floral patterns, others intricate obi, and a few with stiffened sections and folds which seemingly defied gravity. It almost felt like a statement, although what it was escaped him at the moment. Pockets attached to the inside also felt…

unusual, based on the few samples he had previously recovered from Nameless-scourged carts, but it was easy to add some on, so he did. It was… probably a bit oversized, to be honest, but it was done soon enough, even if his shoddy attempt was more like an oversized bathrobe than anything. Looking at his works, John frowned before rummaging around in a drawer, retrieving a few hook and bar clasps that he then sunk into the fabric along the edge, testing that the spacing was correct.

"I think I have my answer, my lord," Aiki suddenly spoke up, and after John nodded, he continued.

"I wasn't taught many techniques growing up, just a few things from my father that might make life easier." He knew magic? John looked him over appraisingly once more.

"Nothing serious, mind you! Just some basics of the material four, you know, easy stuff. Ways to breathe better so you get more air for less effort, how to start a fire without flint, those types of things! When I look at the power and control you have…" His eyes went to the welder again.

"I've met a lot of people, too. Some nice, some cruel, and some just desperate. I think I'd be afraid to go outside if the average person on the street could do even half of what you can." John tried to hide his disappointment; his lips pulled tight. He didn't get it. Why would he? It was hard to even start unpacking that. Did he associate power with violence, or at least the capacity for such, with a poor view of those who wield it?

Did he think the common person couldn't be trusted with anything more than mundane bows and arrows in a world where the Nameless were about? Whatever. With a sigh, John grabbed a wheelbarrow from the edge of the room, put the bolts of cloth away, and handed it to Aiki.

"Thank you for your help. Could I get you to put the rest back?" he asked. The man hurriedly nodded, grabbed the wheelbarrow and sped off, leaving John to pack up Yuki's clothes and relock the room alone, stewing in his thoughts.