The sun had climbed steadily toward its zenith, turning the dark, moist earth of the Kabua fields into a vast expanse of steaming loam. Fuyu worked with a rhythmic, almost trancelike efficiency, his fingers sinking into the dirt to plant the seeds that would ensure the tribe's survival. Beside him, Manu was less focused, occasionally wiping sweat from his brow and looking toward the distant treeline, but for Fuyu, the physical labor was merely a backdrop for a much more complex internal dialogue.
Inside the quiet sanctuary of his mind, the presence of Vasana was as clear as a bell, its energy pulsing in synchronization with his heartbeat.
"But I don't understand this," the spirit's voice echoed, carrying a distinctly feminine, curious tilt. "Why didn't you let her do that last night? You were at the peak of arousal. You wanted her touch. Why deny the pleasure?"
Fuyu pressed a seed into the earth and packed the soil over it with a firm thumb. "I did want it," he replied silently, his mental voice cold and analytical. "But what's the point of playing around like a child? My aim is to mate, to achieve the full union required to open the Nadis. If an action doesn't move me toward that goal, it is a waste of essence, even if it feels good for a moment."
He paused, looking at his dirt-stained hands. "I learned something last night, Vasana. I cannot be at the mercy of her whims or anyone else's. Begging for a chance to mate is a position of weakness. I won't be a beggar in my own journey to immortality."
"Oh? Then what would you do?" the spirit asked, intrigued.
"I need to create a situation where they give me what I need without the drama of 'kindness' or 'favors.' I discussed this with Mother. I will go with the paid option. In this world, like any other, resources speak louder than words. If I have Kuri or valuable goods, I can find girls who are willing to mate without the pretension of virginity or marriage contracts."
Vasana's laughter was like the tinkling of wind chimes in a graveyard. "Understood. But do you truly believe your mother's words? She told you she would pay for your 'needs,' but think, Fuyu. She sees you as a son. She might provide a girl once or twice a year to keep you quiet, but that is a drop of rain in a desert. You have seventy-two thousand Nadis in your body. To awaken even the primary three, you need a constant, high-volume flow of energy. Your mother cannot afford the life you seek. If you demand more than she can give, the family structure will collapse before you even transcend."
Fuyu's movements slowed. The weight of the spirit's logic was undeniable. The Kabua tribe lived on the edge of survival. "I know," he thought in distress. "I need my own Kuri. But how? I am a farmer's son. I have no trade, no military rank, no secret stash of wealth."
He began to mentally survey the tribal economy. Every season, they turned over the bulk of their harvest to the Village Chief. It was a feudal trap; the Chief took the lion's share, returning only a few small seashells—the Kuri—to the families. It was just enough to keep them from starving, but never enough to allow them to rise. His father, Rana, was only able to keep the family prosperous because he served in the Chief's personal guard, earning a few extra shells for his loyalty.
"What if we sell the grain to someone else instead of the Chief?" Vasana suggested.
"No," Fuyu countered. "The Chief owns the land. If we sell elsewhere, we lose the field, or worse, our heads. It's a closed system."
"And these Kuri... they are just shells?"
"Yes. Small, rare seashells brought from the distant coast by fishermen. The Chief controls the supply. He keeps the fishermen poor and the farmers dependent. To get Kuri, one must either serve the military, steal from other tribes, or be favored by the elite. It's a dangerous cycle."
The spirit went silent, leaving Fuyu to grapple with the grim reality of his situation. He was a god-in-waiting trapped in the body of a peasant, hindered by the lack of a few shiny shells.
Back at the hut, the atmosphere was far less philosophical. The air was thick with the smell of roasting tubers and the humidity of a mid-day meal being prepared. Nula wiped her brow with the back of her hand, looking at the heavy clay pot filled with grain and meat meant for her sons.
"Lara, here. Take this," Nula commanded, thrusting the pot toward her daughter. "Go to the field and give the boys their meal. They've been working since dawn."
Lara, who had been lazily braiding a length of dried grass, looked up with a pout that bordered on a snarl. "What? But Mom, I don't want to travel that far. The sun is too hot, and I'm tired."
Nula's eyes snapped toward her. The stress of Rana being away was clearly wearing on her. "Tired? You brought one jar of water from the waterfall this morning and haven't done a lick of work since. Stop your whining and take the food."
"But... Mom..." Lara stammered. Her protest wasn't actually about the distance or the heat. Her mind was racing back to the previous night. Fuyu had challenged her. He had told her that if she wanted to continue her "naughty" games, she had to meet him in the fields.
"If I go there now," Lara thought, her heart thumping against her ribs, "even just to deliver food, he'll think I'm surrendering. He'll think I'm so desperate for his 'white stuff' that I came running to him the moment he demanded it. No! I won't give him that satisfaction. I need to show him I don't care!"
Nula didn't see the internal drama; she only saw a disobedient daughter. "No excuses! You go every day. Why slack off now? Go silently, or you'll find yourself without a meal tonight and a scolding you won't forget."
Lara bit her lip, her eyes darting around the room for an escape. The threat of a scolding from Nula, especially with guests present, was enough to make her flinch.
Aunt Susan, who had been sitting nearby weaving a basket, noticed the tension and offered a gentle smile. She had been observing Lara's unusual irritability all morning and decided to intervene to keep the peace.
"Oh, Lara, don't go by yourself," Susan suggested, her green eyes twinkling with a kindness that felt genuine. "Take Katty with you. She was telling me earlier that she wanted to see the layout of the northern fields anyway. It'll be a nice walk for both of you."
Lara's heart sank even further. Having Katty along meant she couldn't even vent her frustration or sneak a private word with Fuyu to re-establish her dominance. She would have to act like the perfect, dutiful sister in front of the village's most "high-market" girl.
Meanwhile, Katty, who had been quietly sharpening a small bone needle in the corner, looked up in genuine surprise. She hadn't actually expressed a burning desire to see the fields today—she preferred the shade of the hut—but she knew her mother was trying to be helpful to Nula.
Katty looked at Lara, seeing the younger girl's obvious distress, and then at Nula's stern face. She sighed, standing up with a fluid, effortless grace that made Lara feel clunky by comparison.
"Alright," Katty said, her voice cool and neutral. "I'll go with her. It's better than sitting here listening to the cicadas."
Lara felt a surge of complex emotions. She was trapped. She had to go to the field, deliver the food to the brother who had rejected her, and do it all under the watchful, judgmental eyes of Katty.
"Fine," Lara muttered, snatching the pot from Nula's hands with more force than necessary. "Let's go, then."
As the two girls stepped out into the blinding afternoon sun, Lara's mind was already plotting. She would deliver the food, keep her face like stone, and ignore Fuyu completely. She would show him that she wasn't a girl who could be summoned to a field for his pleasure. But as they walked, the memory of his touch from the night before—the heat of him, the power he seemed to be hiding—kept bubbling up in her mind, making her stomach churn with a mixture of resentment and a hunger she refused to name.
The two girls are now on their way to the fields where Fuyu and Manu are working. This walk is the perfect time for Katty to probe Lara about the strange tension in the house.