~ Anari ~
Sweet immortal peaches, what have I gotten myself into this time?
Ritsu quickly introduced the monk to Anari on their way to the butcher’s stand. Once she was acquainted with their pronouns, she took the time to assess them more thoroughly.
The monk had a lithe, yet strong body that was evident in their plain gray garb. The deep cut in the collar revealed a fair amount of their chest. Had it not been for the light smattering of freckles, their face would have been forgettable. It was the monk’s shifty facial movements and arrogant swagger that made them stand out. And, Anari hated to admit, granted them a sort of reckless allure.
She followed behind Sun Ritsu and Bodhi, listening to them squabble. The two attempted to carry on a heated argument, but failed at it due to Bodhi’s inebriated flippancy and Ritsu’s overall confrontational incompetence. It was like watching a toddler try to rationalize with the densest of sheep.
Finally, they reached the meat vendor, a skeletal spirit with deep sockets that, despite their hollowness, seemed to miss nothing.
Something that could perhaps pass as a friendly grin stretched across his features as soon as they approached.
“Ah, my esteemed monk. Back for another deal? How much will you take for the spider? I’ve always wanted to have a foreign delicacy on the menu.”
Anari knew he was teasing, but she bristled all the same. It wasn’t uncommon for spirits this side of the Ninth Heaven to either mock or “compliment” her otherness.
She braced herself for the monk to reply with their own scathing, tasteless comment. Instead, they narrowed their eyes ever so slightly and said, “She’s not for sale.” They shot her a glance and added, “Besides, something tells me you take one bite of her and you’ll find she’s full of poison.”
Anari couldn’t tell if that was a slight or just the monk’s strange way of defending her.
Bodhi’s expression shifted back into something more cheery. “We’re here about the pig. You know, the fat juicy one?”
The butcher started sharpening his tools. “Don’t tell me he’s poisonous too. I just sold him to the nobles for their feast.”
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Ritsu bulldozed past the monk and slapped his hands on the surface of the butcher’s work station.
“Feast? You mean the one in the Garden of Immortal Peaches?”
Keeping his eyes on his knives, the butcher snickered. “Yes. Where else would the nobles gather? Here in the dirt with the common folk? No, they have no problem buying out our most valuable wares for their satisfaction, but they would never mingle anywhere below the altitude of the Jade Pool.”
Ritsu took a step back. “They forced you to sell to them.”
Anari regarded the monkey with mild puzzlement. She caught the gaze of the monk, who looked just as perplexed.
The skeleton paused in his sharpening. “Not the nobles themselves. Just their detainers. I was behind on a few debts. The only way to start a business these days is to take out a loan. And even though I work from the crack of dawn until the drunks leave the gambling dens, it’s been hard paying off what little I owe.”
Ritsu stood with rapt attention. Under their breath, the monk said, “Uh, Ritsu? We know where the pig is, so can we go now?”
Their question went ignored.
The butcher prattled on, “I would have made a lot more money if I could have kept the pig and barbecued him for general admission.” He shrugged. “But how can I say no when representatives of the Nine Luminaries, the Twenty-Eight Constellations, the Five Elders of the Five Regions, and numerous other gods of the Milky Way give me less than two hours to deliver meat only fitting for the divine palettes of the nobles? What other choice do I have when they say ‘two hours or you can say goodbye to your little business forever’? They might as well threaten to banish me to the Lake of Ninefold Darkness. I stood here, thinking that this would be my last Peach Festival when I saw your pig, ripe and unglamoured as the day he was born, oinking in the dirt just across the street. Luck has its own sense of humor, wouldn’t you say?”
Before Ritsu could respond, Bodhi reached up, grabbed his collar and practically dragged him away from the butcher’s booth.
“Come on, Legs,” they said, beckoning Anari to follow, “we’re wasting time. I’ve got an idea on how to get the old porker back.”
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