“Nor will I, even in the face of death.”
“None of us are a match for you, Jin,” said Homura.
“Be that as it may, I will not hold back. I swear it upon the glittering white truth that is rice,” Jin said, staring into space as if seeing visions of sticky Japanese rice in the distance.
What kind of oath was that?!
“I think we’d better get out of this tub and let Jin eat before her brain turns to mush,” said Psycho.
“I think you might be right…”
Jin was starting to scare them both.
An individual banquet tray—on a low, Japanese-style serving table—sat before each of the five girls. The trays were laden with freshly steamed rice, miso soup swimming with mushrooms, salted and grilled fish caught from the river, and of course, freshly pickled vegetables. It was like something taken right off the dinner tables of Japan.
“Who knew that Nippon was waiting for us here, all this time…?”
A quiet tear trickled down Jin’s cheek.
“Who the hell are you and what did you do with Jin…?” said Psycho.
“I had a breakthrough, remember? When I decided to start being more honest with myself?”
“Oh… Oh yeah…”
“I…guess this is a positive change?” Homura said, cocking her head in confusion. Psycho could only cock her head back in response.
The truth was that Homura was almost as moved by this meal as Jin was. It was bringing back vivid memories of Japan.
Supposedly, when Japanese pro sports players went abroad, some of them would bring their own private chefs with them to cook Japanese food to help keep them on their game. Apparently, the culture shock was enough to throw some athletes off.
It wasn’t that the food here didn’t suit the girls’ palates, but there always seemed to be something missing. A big part of it was how lightly seasoned everything was, but the bigger issue was the emotional strain of not being able to eat familiar Japanese food. Everything they had been searching for, though, was now sitting there before their eyes.
First, a sip of the miso soup.
While the soup wasn’t very salty, the savoriness of the mushrooms and the richness of the miso had the desired effect. Homura felt herself relax as the accompanying warmth gently worked its way through her body.
“Mm, I think I’m starting to see what Jin was going on about. The longing for this kind of food must be in our genes, as Japanese people.”
“Yes, Homura! Let us praise the rice.”
“I don’t know about that, now…”
Jin might have been taking things a little too far, but the food was having an effect on Homura as well. She was enjoying this meal in a way she hadn’t enjoyed food in some time. The sticky white rice, piled high, seemed to glitter brightly in its bowl.
While Homura didn’t actually cry, the taste of the delicious rice was enough to make her a little soppy. The more she chewed, the sweeter it tasted. Swallowing almost felt like a waste.
“Nothing beats sticky white rice when you’re Japanese,” commented Homura.
“You said it,” Psycho agreed.
“I knew you would both see the light.”
Jin smiled, staring at the two with eyes brimming with love, until Homura had to let her down gently.
“I’m not sure we’re quite at your level of devotion, Jin…”
“Oh…”
Jin deflated.
Homura began working on the fish with her chopsticks next.
The plump flesh split into tender flakes. As she placed the white flesh into her mouth, a faint saltiness, and the sweetness of the fish, diffused across her tongue. The fish was pleasantly fragrant as well, as if it had been grilled over coals.
“This does bring me back…”
“We only served Japanese food at my family home. In truth, I haven’t been able to accustom myself to the food since coming here. I have gotten used to it somewhat, but I needed this.”
The food in this village was hitting them right in their Japanese hearts.
“I don’t know, I wouldn’t mind some junk food, too. I’d kill for a burger and cola. With a terrible, schlocky movie to watch while I eat.”
“Oh yeah, I can picture it…”
Psycho seemed satisfied with the meal, but she was apparently also craving junk. Homura knew just how Psycho felt. She suddenly had a funny idea.
“A hamburger would hit the spot right now, too, wouldn’t it? I’ve got an idea! Once this is all over, why don’t you open up a burger shop here? I promise to come at least once a month or so.”
“Make it once a second!”
“I’m worried enough about my weight as it is…”
Homura pinched her stomach and thighs between her fingers. Then she tucked her love-hate relationship with junk food back onto the shelf and focused on manipulating her chopsticks again. At the end of the day, nothing beat sticky Japanese rice.
“Once we’re done eating, though, we have to say good-bye to this village, don’t we?”
“I’m loath to go, but we have even more to report now. It is regrettable, though…”
Jin stared at her empty rice bowl as if she could not bear to tear herself away. After a moment, she suddenly spoke up again.
“I wonder if there are seconds!”
It looked like Jin was planning to stuff as much rice into her stomach as she could while she still had the chance. She left the room in search of a refill.
“Jin, wait!” Homura called.
“Just let her go,” said Psycho.
Jin soon returned, cradling a stack of bamboo rice tubs in her arms.
“I brought enough for you, too, Tsutsumi.”
“Hooray…!”
A smile of happiness such as they had never seen there before spread across Tsutsumi’s face. Tsutsumi had taken Proto’s share as usual, but Homura realized both trays were already empty. Even that had not been enough to sate Tsutsumi’s hunger. She was starting to eye Homura’s tray as well.
Homura hardened her heart and pretended not to notice. This was one meal she wasn’t willing to share.
“Maybe I should say something,” Proto said.
“Psycho was right. Just let them eat.”
Jin went back for several more refills after that. By the time they left the village, the headman was half in tears, scared they were going to devour every last grain of rice the village had.
“I thought they’d never leave…,” he said, sighing with relief.