Chapter 472: If You Can't Stand the Heat, Get Out of the Random Sampling of Unfamiliar Foods in the Kitchen Business
January 19, 1070 AS (the day before game night)
"...and then they came home," Noburi said, completing his tale of the Arachnid Scroll's capture. "We're having a giant party tomorrow to celebrate." He leaned back in his chair and sipped at the tea that Shima had served when he first arrived. The chair was uncomfortable due to being proportioned for a toad, the tea was a little brackish, but he made no complaint. Shima's kitchen was airy and open, sunlight streaming through the window to brighten it up. Blond wood cabinets covered the walls in stacked tiers, many of them too high for Noburi to reach. He had wondered how the two-foot-tall toad matron used them but had carefully not asked. His curiosity was assuaged when she went to get the tea; her tongue flicked out, adhering to the door of a cabinet seven feet off the ground and tugging it open. She then bounded inside from a standing start and emerged moments later with a tin of loose tea.
"Hmph," Fukasaku (
never 'Pa'!) grumbled. "Buried in the earth? That's the best they could do to protect a major historical artifact? You humans are bloody useless, aren't you?"
His wife, Shima, whom Noburi still held out hope of winning over with an array of recipes and Human-Path ingredients, poked her husband with one long finger. "They used techniques too, you old goat! Weren't you listening?" She turned to Noburi and rolled her enormous eyes. "Ignore him. He ran out of pipeweed last week and he's in withdrawal. It happens every few months when the weather is bad and the caravans can't travel."
"Oh!" Noburi said. "I almost forgot." He rummaged up the appropriate storage seal and produced a medium brown leather bag, much beaten and weathered and water-stained from traveling across most of the continent over the last two years. Inside were three smaller, much nicer pouches, which Noburi carefully placed in front of the batrachian patriarch. "These are for you, sir."
Fukasaku stared at him, gimlet-eyed, and then blinked. He sniffed the air. He tore the first pouch open with hurried fingers and buried his face in it, sucking air loudly to draw the scent into his lungs. Only when he had drawn more air than should be possible for the lungs of a two-foot amphibian did he stop and sigh happily. He pulled the long-handled ivory pipe from his robe, packed it tight with the pipeweed, and lit it with a jutsu that enveloped his head in a fireball but left him unharmed.
Noburi waited patiently, trying not to smile.
"S'not bad," Fukasaku grunted after a few moments of smoking. "Where's it from?"
"River, sir. That pouch is a kind called 'Autumn Harvest'. The others are 'Tanaka Special' and 'Blowing Smoke'. I figured I'd bring a sampler...let me know which types you prefer and I'll get you a steady supply." He carefully didn't mention the ruinous prices and small quantities available in Leaf. Even if he had to run to River to get the stuff personally it would be worth it if it got him on the good side of the grumpy Toad Sage.
Fukasaku grunted.
"That was Grouchy Old Goat for 'thank you, lad, that was very thoughtful of you'," Shima said. She poked her husband hard enough to rock him in his chair. "
Wasn't it?"
"Stop poking me, you old biddy! Very thoughtful blah blah, he's the Summoner! It's literally his job to bring us stuff like this."
"Old biddy? Old biddy?! Listen you thick-witted—"
"Don't you call me thick-witted! Show some respect to your doting husband, the senior Toad Sage!"
"Ha! As if! I've put fresher sage in my casseroles! Besides, you got your certificate thirty seconds before I did!"
"I'm still senior and you still owe me respect!"
Noburi coughed softly and four enormous eyes swiveled towards him in suddenly-united irritation. "Speaking of spices and casseroles, ma'am..." From another storage seal came a pouch filled with dozens of small twists of paper, each one marked with the kanji for the cooking ingredient inside.
"Oooh," Shima said, massive purple lips spreading in a wide grin. "Look at that, old goat. I got more things than you did. I guess he likes me better."
Noburi started to sweat when Fukasaku's accusing eyes locked onto him.
"In fairness, sir, ma'am, it's about the same
amount of stuff, it's just packaged differently."
"Ha! And I got
mine in nice silk pouches," Fukasaku said smugly. "Yours are those natty old papers."
Shima glared accusingly at Noburi.
Noburi quailed for a moment, then forced himself to take a deep breath. Mari and Asuma had both advised him on the care and feeding of ancient and powerful Toad Sages. He straightened his spine and hoped that the Sages couldn't hear the fluttered pounding of his heart.
"Fukasaku. Shima. With respect, please don't drag me into your marital squabbles. The gifts were intended to make you both happy. I wasn't trying to prefer either one of you to the other." He forced himself not to add an apology on the end.
Polite but firm, his counselors had insisted.
Not an equal but not a minion either. And definitely not a chewtoy.
The two ancient toads glared at him sourly, then hrmphed and focused their attention on their respective gifts.
Shima opened the first two packages, examined them carefully, and set them aside. She paused when she got to the third, frowning in confusion. "What's a haban—"
"Careful, ma'am!" Noburi said, half reaching out to stop her from licking the small red vegetable. "That's a habanero pepper. It's extremely spicy. You only want to use a tiny amount."
"Are you telling me how to cook, boy?! Let me tell you—"
"No, ma'am!" He raised both hands in placation and leaned away, his chair creaking dangerously under him. "It's just...nothing I've eaten here on the Seventh Path has been particularly spicy. You might want to experiment a bit, just to get a sense for it."
"Hrmph. It's tiny. How bad can it be?" Before Noburi could stop her she bit half the pepper off and started chewing.
Noburi watched in horrified fascination.
Yup, I'm going to die.
"See, it's fine! There's noth..." She paused and cleared her throat. "There's nothing..." She coughed, then gagged. "Ash cakes! Broken skies, boy! Agh! What"—
cough—"what did you do to me?" She stuck out a tongue half the length of her body and fanned both hands across it.
Noburi dove into his storage seals, frantically searching through the meals section. Duck with orange sauce, no. Salad with vinegar and oil, no. Fish with a honey glaze, nope. Argh, where was—aha!
"Chew this, ma'am!" he said, pushing a plate of tender cubed chicken and rice in cream sauce towards her.
According to Asuma, Shima had decades of experience as a jutsu researcher. She was therefore thoroughly familiar with the old adage that when disaster was happening around you (or, in this case, inside you) it was a good idea to follow the directions of whoever seemed to have a clue. She snatched the plate from Noburi with both hands and threw the contents into her mouth in one go, her cheeks bulging out to make room for roughly a pound of food and half a pint of sauce.
Noburi pulled out a water canteen and held it at the ready but raised a hand to stop her when she reached for it. "The cream neutralizes the spice and the rice soaks it up, ma'am. Roll it around your tongue for a bit before you drink or the water will only spread it around."
Shima followed directions, swishing the food noisily around before swallowing it in one gulp. Noburi handed over the canteen and she drank gratefully.
She sucked down the entire quart of water and then wiped her wide mouth with a satisfied sigh. "Got any more of those? Little Bunty has been stroppy lately and I'd just
love to make him a special treat."
"Uh..." Noburi's mind boggled. Gamabunta was larger than a house. Larger than three or four houses combined, actually, for most examples of 'house'. The number of peppers that would be necessary to affect him...
"These things aren't common, ma'am," he temporized. "Given how large the Clan Boss is, I'm not sure if there's enough in Leaf to affect him."
Shima sniffed dismissively. "You go look. Bring me enough and I'll make you something nice in exchange."
Noburi digested that. "Ma'am, I'm not sure I want to get involved in a prank war between the two of you and Lord Gamabunta. I feel like I'm already on thin ice with him."
"Nonsense!" Fukasaku said, waving one webbed hand dismissively. "He doesn't have to know where we got it from. Besides, he's not going to blame
you for it. You're just the supplier."
"He's not going to be that mad," Shima said, patting Noburi on the arm. "It's just a little prank. He'll laugh it right off."
Yes, because powerful ninja, human or otherwise, were so well-known for their senses of humor and their careful and proportional allocation of blame. "Okay, but...I mean, I'm still not sure there's enough of those in Leaf to—" He broke off. "Wait, never mind. Keiko told me that the Pangolins love spicy food and have some agonizingly painful spices. I'll see what I can get from her."
"From those scaly bigots?" Shima said. "Harumph. Don't know how I feel about that. Rude bunch of stuck-up conefaces with sticks so far up their butts they come out the mouth."
"Unwad your knickers, you old prune. They may be a bunch of xenophobic jerks but we aren't going to have to talk to them. The boy will do that."
Noburi couldn't help but think about the last time the Gōketsu had traded with the Pangolin Clan and the geopolitical fallout thereof. Granted, he wasn't going to give them skytower seals. Probably not even seals at all. Metals, cloth (they had difficulty with weaving), maybe some exotic foods from the Human Path. What could go wrong?
Author's Note: Today's update brought to you by the power of chest colds and sleep debts. Sorry I didn't have the juice for the Orochimaru conversation; I shall leave it to the very capable eldritch appendages of
@Velorien.
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