Ninety-Three: Dumplings and Steamed Buns

Although he had gone through it so many times that he had long since grown accustomed to the passage between worlds, there were still moments when even the fox spirit could not help but sigh.

As he was once again flung brutally out of the corridor of time, he reflexively reached out with practiced ease, just in time catching the little white bundle that came barreling toward him like a tiny cannonball. At the same time, he let out a helpless, resigned breath.

As expected.

Every time he arrived, he still had to keep every nerve taut and every sense on guard.

Holding the white bundle as he plunged from the sky toward the ground, he felt his spiritual power had recovered to more than sixty percent, and his physical condition had improved accordingly. This time, he had no intention of making plants do the work for him. Instead, he meant to rely on his own formidable body to bear the impact left over from being thrown out of the corridor.

After a quick glance downward during the brief moment after his ejection, he confirmed that this time, luck was still on their side. They were descending toward a vast expanse of lush jungle.

Though scattered buildings in the distance proved that this was not a place untouched by human feet, there was still a considerable stretch between the nearest structures and the forest where he and Mokona were about to land. So unless they were terribly unlucky and happened to encounter someone wandering aimlessly into the woods, he thought their arrival should not attract anyone’s attention.

“Eh?”

His body touched down lightly, but instead of landing in a steady stance as expected, he stumbled forward two steps, then turned his head, his expression turning strangely subtle as he looked down at his feet.

There, beneath his left foot, was a plump, round cat, shaped much like one of those good-luck figures outside shops, staring blankly as it lay trapped under his foot.

The fox spirit’s eyes widened at once.

“Sorry!”

He hurriedly jumped back, then crouched down and cautiously reached out to touch the cat’s plump body.

“Are you all right, little cat?”

The cat remained blank-faced and motionless.

Now he was genuinely at a loss.

As everyone knows, he had a weakness for soft and adorable things.

To have grown so fond of Mokona in only a few short months was proof enough of how little resistance Mister Fox had to anything fluffy and cute. If he had stepped on an ordinary human during his landing, he likely would not be worrying over apologies at all; by now he would already be considering what method to use to silence the witness.

But a cat that looked this adorable?

That was a completely different matter.

Mokona, too, sensed that something about his attitude was unusual.

But after seeing how warmly and indulgently Kurama had treated the young girl Zhang Mei and the tiny panda Xiao Mei in the previous world of Full Metal Alchemy, the little white bundle had also come to understand that his Kurama was probably the sort of person who found obedient, lovable children and soft, adorable creatures especially hard to resist. So he did not find it strange at all.

“Kurama, the little cat seems to have lost consciousness.”

Patting the fox spirit’s arm, he reminded him in a low voice.

Kurama’s hand, which had just been lightly touching the cat, paused.

“Uh... then is he all right?”

The fox spirit lowered his head uncertainly, looking at his white bundle with a very innocent expression.

The answer he received was Mokona’s smile, so cute it made one’s heart ache.

“Why don’t we take him to town and have someone look at him? This place... seems to have quite a lot of humans moving about.”

And Mokona was entirely right.

Kurama gathered the unconscious cat into his arms, waited until the little white bundle had settled onto his shoulder, then set off in the direction where he had earlier seen a few scattered houses.

“Maybe we can find this little cat’s owner.”

He spoke softly to Mokona.

The cat was still wearing a collar with a tiny bell hanging from it, and though for some reason it had somehow run deep into the forest, its fur was clean and glossy, hardly the look of a stray, more like a house cat raised by someone.

Though Kurama found that somewhat regrettable, finding a doctor to examine whether the kitten had been injured, and finding its owner, were far more important. He had no time at all to lament the matter.

And because he was not certain whether the kitten had been harmed by the force of his earlier step, Kurama could not move at full speed. He could only make his way out of the forest as quickly as possible at a pace just slightly faster than an ordinary person’s.

Even so, by the time the edge of the woods finally came into sight, more than an hour had passed.

The magical dandelions he had spread out at once had already returned with a wealth of information, giving Kurama a preliminary understanding of this world during the course of his walk.

In general, it seemed to be much the same kind of world as the ones he had visited before. Unless one encountered a particularly special individual with some unusual power native to this world, it looked no different from an ordinary place.

Kurama’s mind was not on probing the mysteries of the world, so he did not pursue the matter further.

Seeing the forest exit near at hand, he let out a breath and was just about to quicken his pace when—

“...Damn... it...”

The low, gritted whisper came suddenly from within his arms.

Kurama lowered his head and saw that the cat, who had been asleep until just now, had awakened and was glaring fiercely up at him with wide eyes.

“............”

The fox spirit was speechless.

A talking cat?

A talking cat shaped like a lucky-cat figurine?

...Wait.

He seemed... to know where this was.

Narrowing his eyes, he let the cat wriggle free of his hands and jump easily to the ground. The gentle, courteous smile he had worn earlier had already vanished from his face.

He had not noticed it.

From the moment he met this cat, he had not sensed anything odd at all.

If this was not the world he had thought of, and the cat’s appearance was merely an accident, then that would be one thing. But if his guess was indeed correct, then...

His brow creased slightly as he thought, and the fox spirit took two steps back, looking down at the round little cat whose soft fur had puffed up in indignation as it waved its paws at him angrily.

“You, you bastard! You... hic! You actually, hic! Dared to step on Lord Nyan’s belly! Who, hic! Who gave you the nerve!”

“............”

Well then.

So this one had merely been drunk senseless.

The corners of Kurama’s eyes twitched hard twice. Looking at the adorable little cat still brandishing its claws and teeth before him, he lowered his head in silence.

When he had picked the cat up just now, he had not smelled the faintest trace of alcohol on it.

So was it because of this drink that he had failed to notice anything unusual before?

From the cat’s behavior, this was not mere pretense. It was truly drunk.

And if the cat’s identity was indeed what he suspected, then the fine liquor capable of toppling this little creature could not possibly be ordinary.

With that thought, Kurama crouched down quietly.

“Nyan?”

He called softly, testing the waters.

“Meow...?” The cat, whose fur had been smoothed by the “enemy’s” exquisitely pleasing voice, instantly softened.

“M-meow, hic... How do you... hic... know my name?”

Even though it was already so drunk it could barely stand, its tone still carried a matter-of-fact arrogance.

And though it had not been obvious before, the two thin flushes of red spread across its cheeks were now easy to see, and with its intoxication in view, every movement it made looked utterly... plump and adorable.

Kurama silently swallowed the laugh that had nearly escaped him, then reached out a hand and rested it on the cat’s fluffy head.

“Good.”

His fingers, accustomed to massaging Mokona, lightly scratched the soft little head a couple of times before moving down to the chin the cat had unconsciously lifted.

Watching the cat’s face soften into a helplessly blissful, “more of that, please” expression, the fox spirit could not help but laugh softly.

“You’re drunk?”

The cat, having had its fur stroked the right way, let out a purring rumble of comfort from its throat.

“I am not, hic!”

Even while lazily narrowing its eyes, it still did not forget to deny it.

“It’s only a tiny bit of wine. How could that possibly make Lord Nyan drunk!” One little paw was raised to show a very small distance, and the cat declared proudly, “Even the legendary Moon Nectar is... meow...”

Well. Halfway through the sentence, the cat apparently found the stroking so comfortable that it simply fell asleep again.

Kurama looked helplessly down at Mokona, exchanged a glance with the white bundle, and sighed in resignation before once again gathering the happily snoring cat into his arms.

“Mokona, have you heard of Moon Nectar?”

He had now formed a rough understanding of the world they had arrived in, and while continuing along their path, he asked the white bundle seated neatly on his shoulder.

To his surprise, Mokona actually nodded.

“Yes.”

Before Kurama could ask further, he continued of his own accord, explaining:

“Moon Nectar is said to be the finest of all wines. The most famous brewers among the youkai gather together and begin making it on the night of the full moon. After a whole month, when the moon is full again, they seal it away. Then, only after three hundred and thirty more full moons have passed, can it finally become complete.”

“Yuko, Kuro, Lag, and I drank it a few times when we were with them, and it really was very, very good!”

Mokona licked his lips, seeming to remember the taste fondly.

But soon he brought the topic back on track.

“Also, this wine has another very interesting effect: for three days and three nights after drinking it, it can hide the youki of the youkai who drank it. This is true for both low-ranking monsters and superpowerful youkai who have cultivated for who knows how many years. Even the most perceptive people cannot detect their presence.”

“That’s why Kurama didn’t notice earlier that this little cat wasn’t an ordinary cat, but a youkai, right?”

He stretched out a tiny padded hand to pat Kurama’s cheek, then leaned in and rubbed against him affectionately.

“It’s not because Kurama let down his guard, and it’s not because Kurama has fallen behind in any way.”

At that, the fox spirit smiled helplessly.

Mokona always knew exactly when to say the exact right thing, and the thing he most wanted to hear, leaving him no time to blame himself or feel discouraged.

So this little fellow... worrying that he might dislike him or something...

That was simply impossible!

Thinking this with a smile, Kurama was just about to speak when he was suddenly interrupted by a loud call from afar.

“Master Cat?!”

He looked up toward the voice and saw, not far ahead, a slender brown-haired boy with a clear, delicate face staring at the sleeping, bun-shaped round little cat in his arms with unmistakable surprise and concern.

Kurama smiled again.

So it really was this place.

Hello, young Natsume.