Beast-making Water (1)
After the great food war ended, the excitement drained from the Hair Tribe of the Summit. Shame and guilt over the mess they had made of the area around the house drove them to apologize to Chester and Monia.
The Warrior Tribe, on the other hand, was already scheming to slaughter more pigs and eat even more. Their wicked plot was crushed before it could begin by the adult warrior tasked with mediating them.
"Pigs are a precious resource! Who do you little brats think you are, trying to use them without permission?"
"We're not brats! We're grown now! We even completed the warrior rite!"
"Completing the warrior rite still leaves you brats! Brats! You brats!"
"I'll knock you down right now and become an adult warrior myself!"
"That doesn't make you an adult!"
Chester, who had been fretting over how to clean up the chaos, sighed at the sight of the Warrior Tribe starting to fight again.
"They're at it again."
"Is fighting the only game they know?"
"Hardly. Creatures with such leisurely lives must have play culture of their own. Of course they do."
Just as Chester and Monia made instruments, painted, or carved, leisure bred boredom, and boredom naturally bred fun.
Even wild animals did the same. Cats, for instance, turned far smaller creatures into toys and played with them.
"Ant does it too—when there's nothing else, he runs around, pounces on empty spots, or spins in circles chasing his own tail."
"Oh, that was playing?"
"What did you think it was?"
"I thought he was showing off cute poses because I kept calling him cute!"
"No way. He can't even understand human speech."
"Wrong. Our baby is smart—he might understand. Last time I scolded him he wilted completely!"
"That's not understanding our words. He just picks up the rough nuance from the tone."
"No! Our baby is smart!"
"Ugh."
Even while insisting they weren't getting through to each other, Chester pulled Monia's shoulder in so she could lean against him in his arms.
Once he had her, he stroked her shoulder or toyed with her hair between his fingers.
Monia didn't pull away from the touch while she kept arguing how clever Ant was—until the little elder approached them.
"Sorry for the racket. We ruined your territory too. I'll make it right somehow later."
"I'd be grateful if you did."
"And though it may not quite count as an apology… will you accept this?"
At the little elder's words, a young Hair brought over a bundle of leaves.
"What is this?"
"I wonder?"
They peeled back the tightly wrapped layers one by one. The scent trapped inside began to spread.
"Oh."
"This is…"
It was a fragrance deeply familiar to both Chester and Monia.
It differed from the crude, watered-down ale of the cheap taverns on the village outskirts that Chester had usually enjoyed, and from the finest wines Monia had drunk—wines crafted like works of art by artisans who meticulously cultivated grapes and controlled every detail.
Yet one sensation was identical.
The smell that only something holding alcohol could produce.
At last the leaves opened fully, revealing the liquid sloshing among crushed fruit in the center. Monia's eyes went wide.
"It's liquor."
She looked at Chester.
"Is this possible? How can they make alcohol?"
"Well, it's not impossible. Liquor doesn't actually need complicated equipment."
"Really?"
Chester nodded.
"If you're not aiming for the kind of wine you drank in the kingdom, the method is simple. You can even make it with the honey we've eaten."
"How?"
"First, put honey in your mouth and chew."
"Pardon?"
"Chew a bit, then spit it into a jar or something."
"Pardon??"
The sudden odd instructions left Monia's face blank.
"Honey doesn't spoil on its own, but mixing water into it this way makes it rot. Collect a jar full of chewed-and-spit honey, leave it alone, and it ferments into liquor by itself."
"…"
"Food is all like that originally. Cheese and butter were discovered by nomads living in places where milk couldn't be properly stored."
"Ugh."
Monia felt briefly queasy, but since none of the foods he mentioned tasted bad, she decided to think positively.
Right—if it tastes good, that's enough. If it tastes good! Tasting good is all that matters!
…
Chanting that to herself, Monia gazed at the fruit wine the little elder held out.
The sweet fruit scent, intensified by rotting, and the sharp alcoholic aroma tickled her nose.
Gulp.
Liquor. Liquor she hadn't seen in so long. Liquor she had thought she would never drink again.
Monia always enjoyed alcohol only to the point of not getting drunk. She didn't drink every day—just once a week or so, a glass or two of wine with a little cheese.
That alone let her savor the pleasant floating feeling for a long time.
Drink? Don't? Drink? Don't? Rotten fruit… but it's still liquor! Aren't all other liquors basically the same? It'd be weird to back out now!
Even so, Monia—accustomed to eating all sorts of things—still hesitated to reach for something she knew was "rotted."
What you don't know is cleanest, they say. If she hadn't known, she would have drunk without a second thought. But learning how it was made made it stick in her craw.
While she fretted, Chester held out a water container first.
He scooped a generous amount of the sloshing fruit wine, then carefully brought it to his lips.
First came the sharp-turned fruit taste and sweet fragrance. Then the distinctive hot presence of alcohol hit hard, and finally, as it swept down into his stomach, it left behind the faint leaf scent that had seeped into the liquor while it fermented trapped inside the leaves.
"…Hoo."
Fruit wine made from fruit of the Floating Island's Summit. Even fish that had received only a little of the Grace could satisfy Monia's picky palate; the taste of fruit that had received that Grace up close was naturally guaranteed.
Incredible.
For Chester, it was the first liquor he had ever tasted that could be called "luxurious."
Without a word he filled the container again and drank.
"…!"
When Chester silently drank a second time, Monia's eyes flew wide in surprise.
Seeing his reaction, the awkwardness born of learning the brewing method vanished at once, and the urge to try that liquor herself surged up.
As Monia took out her own container, the little elder smiled and held out the leaves.
Carefully filling it, Monia swirled the container the way she did with wine, waking the scent.
"…Wow."
Of course the fruit wine made by the Summit people was nothing like the wine she had always enjoyed.
There was not a shred of elegance—only an endlessly violent, intense aroma pouring out.
Drawn by that fierce scent, Monia carefully tilted the container and took a mouthful.
"Eup?!"
The instant the liquor hit her mouth, the high-proof punch—utterly different from wine—made her clap a hand over her lips without thinking.
"Eup! Eup!"
Hiccups rose from her startled body, yet beside her Chester was already on his third cup.
"He drinks well."
"He really does."
The Summit people were astonished at how well Chester handled strong liquor.
"What's wrong? Hard to drink?"
After his third cup, Chester looked at Monia—face flushed red, tears welling, fruit wine still in her mouth—and asked.
When she nodded without meaning to, Chester reached out and cupped her face.
"Want me to help?"
"Mm?"
The next instant he yanked her close and stole her lips.
Oh.
They kissed and nuzzled and held each other often enough that a sudden kiss didn't startle her.
What flustered Monia was what came after.
Chester gently stroked her hair—then began to devour her lips the way a long-starved man craves meat.
Unlike usual, his tongue thrust in rough and wild, ransacking the soft inside of Monia's mouth.
Startled, she swallowed the liquor in her mouth without thinking. Noticing, Chester pulled back and grinned playfully.
"How's that? Easier to drink this way, right?"
"U-uh, mm. Hic."
Something was different from usual.
Looking at Chester—beast-like eyes fixed on her, smiling mischievously—Monia understood at once.
Ah. Chester's drunk.
Even as she thought it, the single mouthful of fruit wine she had just drunk was already sending alcohol surging through her, making her head spin.
Chester took a little more fruit wine into his mouth and kissed her again, delivering long, deep kisses until she had sipped every last drop.
Chester…
Quietly accepting the kisses, Monia thought,
turns into a beast when he's drunk.
How would she change when she got drunk?
"Hmm. Looks like the water's gotten through well enough. Good—we'll drink too!"
"Waaah!"
"We've been waiting!"
They had brought more than enough fruit wine.
Watching the couple locked in a deep kiss, the people of the Summit cupped their hands into dishes, scooped up the fruit wine, and began gulping it down.