89 - Flour

  The next morning, Nexha woke up and drank his milk, delighted once again by the taste of his favorite seasoning: lucky crab powder.

  The strong flavor mixed slightly with the milk, a small detail that made his breakfast all the more satisfying.

  However, his peace was abruptly interrupted when Jasper launched himself at him, biting his arm with all the strength his tiny teeth could muster. The baby seemed particularly angry that morning.

  — What now?! — Nexha grumbled, lightly shaking his arm, but Jasper wouldn’t let go.

  The answer came in the form of an irritated grumble, followed by another bite.

  — Ah… I forgot to give you milk yesterday, didn’t I?

  Jasper huffed, confirming it with a grunt. His teeth weren’t sharp enough to pierce Nexha’s tough skin, but having the baby clinging to him was uncomfortable enough to make him sigh and give in. He quickly grabbed a bottle of milk and handed it to the little one.

  Satisfied, Jasper finally let go of Nexha’s arm and started drinking beside him, still glaring with a pout.

  As soon as he finished, Nexha left the house, swimming up to the surface, where the fresh morning breeze hit his skin. His fins trembled with excitement as he swam toward the fields, where the rice plants swayed gently in the water. The stalks were tall, golden, and heavy with ripe grains.

  It was harvest time.

  — Finally! — he exclaimed, rubbing his hands together.

  He grabbed his knife but hesitated for a moment. He had never harvested rice before. How was he supposed to do it? Just cut everything at once? Pull the grains straight from the plant?

  — Hm… I guess I’ll just… cut and see what happens.

  With a swift motion, he slid the blade through the base of the stalks and grabbed a handful of freshly harvested rice. He repeated the process a few times, piling up bundles of rice in his arms.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The scent of freshly cut straw was different—fresh and slightly sweet.

  After filling a large basket made of moray-algae bamboo, he let out a relieved sigh.

  — Good thing I borrowed this from Nalu… I don’t think I could’ve made one this sturdy.

  The thought of Nalu brought an unexpected weight to Nexha’s chest. It was strange going so long without hearing her, without seeing her test her “unbreakable” knot inventions. He scrunched his nose, pushing the thoughts away before the longing became too much.

  With the basket full, he swam back to the platform and dumped everything onto the stone floor. Now came the tiring part—threshing the grains.

  — This should be easy, right? Just… beat them?

  He grabbed a bundle and started shaking it against the platform. A few grains fell off, but most remained stubbornly stuck in their husks.

  — Okay… maybe not so easy.

  Frustrated, he tried another method—using a bone comb he found nearby.

  — Much better… I just have to return it later so Nalu doesn’t notice I’m using her stuff while she’s away.

  With the grains properly separated, Nexha grabbed a handful of rice still in its husks and poured it between the grinding stones of the mill. The mechanism started turning slowly, crushing the husks and gradually releasing the flour.

  — Now I just need to make the dough and cook!

  He was excited, already imagining the possibilities—dumplings, soups, maybe even something completely new… But his enthusiasm was suddenly cut short by a shiver down his spine.

  He turned around slowly—only to be met with Krahs, staring at him with a deeply suspicious look.

  — You… are really going to eat that, Nexha? — Krahs’ serious tone made Nexha blink in confusion.

  — Yeah? But not like this, of course. I’m still going to cook it.

  Krahs’ gaze shifted slowly from the mill to the rice and the freshly ground flour. His expression was neutral, but Nexha noticed a faint blush on his cheeks.

  — Alright… — Krahs said, clearing his throat. — But if you feel anything strange, stop eating immediately.

  The serious tone caught Nexha off guard.

  — Huh? Okay…?

  Krahs nodded, still looking slightly uncomfortable.

  — Just don’t overdo it.

  He turned and left, but Nexha couldn’t help but notice that his adoptive father kept glancing back at the flour as he walked away.

  Silence hung in the air for a moment. Then, suddenly, realization struck.

  Nexha’s eyes widened before he burst into laughter, clutching his stomach.

  — HAHAHA! Does he… does he think this is some kind of aphrodisiac?!

  His jaw ached from laughing so hard, and he had to lean against the platform to keep from falling over.

  — Does he think I made a love potion?!

  The idea of Krahs suspecting the flour was so absurd that Nexha nearly toppled backward.

  Still laughing, he wiped a tear from his eye.

  — Well… at least now I know he doesn’t understand anything about cooking!

  With a mischievous grin, he turned back to the flour. It was time to cook!