🐿🐿🐿
DECIDING to put video games to one side for now, I dug out a board game, thinking it might be more enjoyable for Kon. But to my shock, Kon had mastery over the movements of the dice—though he wasn’t a hundred percent accurate, most of the time, he could roll numbers he’d been aiming for. Using that skill, despite being a beginner, he was the winner at the end.
Morally speaking, such a playstyle wasn’t very fair, but Kon had rolled the dice without even a hint of malice—he’d only done it subconsciously because he had the ability. Wow.
Once again, I was taught a keen lesson about how extraordinary beastfolk were. They had excellent kinetic vision, reflexes, physical ability, and even sharp noses. On top of that, they even had special characteristics unique to their specific race. It made sense that humans had lost to them in past wars. I could imagine that during the era of Aterui, mere humans hadn’t even been able to put up a fight against beastfolk that had been led by their hero.
If so, how had the beastfolk ended up here, crammed into their comparatively small autonomous region?
I had a good guess—it was due to their high caloric needs. They had impressive physical prowess, and each one of them was practically a one-man army against humans. But because of that, every single beastfolk also needed to consume food equivalent to an army. The more they exerted themselves, the more food they had to eat to make up for the energy lost, which meant that they needed several times—maybe even several dozen times more food than a normal human. Fast metabolism also means that they even burn a lot of calories while resting.
During an age when agriculture, tools, and fertilizer hadn’t been all that developed, food supplies had been unreliable. Trying to unify the entire country with an army of gluttons would be a pie in the sky. If they thoughtlessly tried to increase their population, it was evident that they’d eat up all the food and animals wherever they went.
For argument’s sake, let’s say that beastfolk managed to unite Japan under their flag and grew into a population that could rule over its entirety. You could imagine what would happen next—they’d eat up everything available and transform Japan into a barren wasteland.
The point is, the beastfolk society seems to have a natural restriction on their population due to their low energy efficiency, which likely resulted in this autonomous region. I’d never properly checked how big the Beastly Wilds was, but it shouldn’t be too spacious. It was more of a city than a prefecture—around the size of an ordinance-designated city.
As for its food self-sufficiency rate, though I didn’t have a proper number either, I suspected that it was rather low. Yes, there were fields scattered everywhere. If you went a little deeper into the Wilds, there were apparently even fruit tree orchards and terraced rice fields of significant scales. The large beasts and fish residing within the Beastly Wilds were also a substantial source of food for them.
However, if you were to head to the supermarket and take a good look at the shelves, you would notice that they were flooded with food you’d often see on the other side of the border—food manufactured in human factories. Furthermore, whether it be vegetables, meat, or even seafood, the majority of the fresh food products available were also imported from the other side. It shouldn’t be an overstatement to say that Techi and the others were only able to eat to their hearts’ content thanks to the supply of food from outside.
Perhaps they wouldn’t have to rely on the outside world at all if they had an abundant number of Fusang trees and seeds, but even if they did have an infinite supply, it was daunting to depend too much on something you sorely lacked understanding about. Because if you didn’t understand their inner mechanisms, what if one day, your supply suddenly got cut off? Your race would be on the brink of extinction in an instant.
Judging by that, I had a good guess about the sequence of events that led to the autonomous region. Due to their high caloric demands, beastfolk had lost their war against humans and were coerced into living in the Beastly Wilds. Their situation had been despairing, but for some reason, the Fusang trees were only left behind within their territory. Thanks to these wondrous plants, they managed to secure a certain amount of influence and the right of self-government—the Fusang trees had guaranteed them freedom.
The beastfolk I knew, whether they be adults or children, lived their lives cheerfully and happily every day. They were friendly to a human like me without any prejudice, but when you thought about their situation, that almost sounded like a miracle. Most humans wouldn’t find the same compassion within them. In fact, I wouldn’t blame them for thinking the same way as Techi’s uncle, who insisted that beastfolk should be with beastfolk and that there should only be their own race in their society.
But instead, Techi and the others had treated me with kindness—or at least fairness—and were willing to hang out with me every single day. Techi had even agreed to marry me… And the people I had to thank were probably my ancestors and Gramps.
I didn’t know what had happened in the distant past, but what I did know was that my ancestors had ended up living here and cultivated the land, among other things. Gramps had inherited that position and had carefully protected his orchard while living in harmony with Techi and the kids. Without his diligence and sincerity, I wouldn’t be here today—I could never thank him enough for everything he’d done.
I was going to live here for the rest of my life. Maybe it would be prudent for me to start giving more thought to my plans in the long term and the situation of the people around me, including what I was going to do about Techi’s uncle. Though this might be wishful thinking, if possible, I also wanted to make friends with beastfolk who had the same kind of values as him.
This internal self-reflection session went on as I played a second round of the board game with Kon. He was busy rolling his dice and moving his piece on the board when he looked at me and gave me a bright, overjoyed smile.
I blinked. “Hm? Did something happen?”
His smile showed up out of nowhere, filled with an odd elation I couldn’t decipher. When I voiced my question, Kon pointed behind me. Specifically, he was pointing through the sliding screens—which I’d left open to let in fresh air—and past the veranda. The only thing of note there was the shelf I’d set up for my potted plant.
I turned and looked over my shoulder. The Fusang sapling was there, enshrined in the plant pot.
My eyes widened.
Flowers. Flowers of every color—white, yellow, peach, scarlet, orange, violet—were blooming all over its few, tiny branches. In fact, the branches were overpopulated to the point that you couldn’t even fit more even if you tried.
✦ ✦ ✦
I was completely taken aback by the sight. What in the world is going on? “Huh…?” I whimpered weakly.
It was simply surreal. I could understand blooming flowers, but there should be a limit to how many flowers could naturally grow on a tree. Is the sapling desperate and indulging in self-destructive tendencies? Or is it teasing me in some way? I squinted at it. Hmm… Maybe it has some kind of will of its own and bloomed all these flowers to try and send me a message… I can’t tell, but that could be a possibility.
I sighed. “There are so many things I can’t make heads or tails of, especially that tree. It only leaves me with more questions every time it does something.”
Kon, beaming from ear to ear, replied in a merry and ecstatic voice. “I dunno either, but that thing grows bigger or blooms flowers when you do good stuff, right, Mikura? Which means that those flowers are like medals proving that you did good things! I like these medals!” His smile broadened even more. “Hee hee hee…”
Then, he resumed moving his piece across the board. Seeing the joy that still bloomed profusely on his face, I smiled. Well, if Kon’s happy about it, I’m not complaining.
Deciding I’d put it behind me, I shifted my gaze back onto the board game, where I was at an overwhelming disadvantage. Hoping that I could turn the tables somehow, I gripped my dice with determination and got into my battle stance. And then, I performed my ultimate throw on the board, clinging to that slim sliver of hope.