Disarm Evil

Chapter 11: Duty

"Alright, let's just open the door, toss the bags in, and get to the spa. We can worry about unpacking later," Miya plans aloud as we approach the front door of our home.

However, I ignore Miya's plan and wordlessly enter the house.

"Uh, okay, I guess we can unpack first if you really want to. I just want to get there while it's still early in the morning. You know, beat any lines," Miya expresses.

"I need to talk with you about something," I say.

"I knew this was coming. Before you blow up, I am sorry I almost marooned you. That was a strict violation of-"

"It's not that. It's nothing about what you did. Though we really should talk about that too at some point."

"Okay... What do you want to talk about then?"

"Let me check something first."

Miya probably would have alerted me to anyone in our house, but I want to make sure there are no notu hiding around. Trouble is, notu can be as small as my hand. They make great spies, only requiring sun exposure every deposit or two and sometimes water for their body, but never needing to eat, drink, or poop. They aren't easily detected by yetu and can hide in a shadow for labors, listening.

There are two small bedrooms, a bathroom, and the living space.

I resent myself for the state of my room. It's either I keep my room spotless as my parents drilled me to do, or I do only the bare minimum to keep the floors and bed clear enough to be used. My brain cannot be content with half clean, and I don't have time to clean to the degree that was drilled into me growing up and in rirmevu training, so unfolded clothes fill chairs and baskets more so than drawers and the wardrobe. The lines between clean, dirty, and worn but not yet dirty are only discernible by me.

I dig and dig until I am just the right amount of exhausted and satisfied that there are no notu in my room. Though by the end of it, those divisions of clothing cleanliness have become indistinguishable even to me. Making me dred the labor of sorting this out later.

I move on to Miya's room.

"What are you looking for?" Miya asks.

"I have something that I need to bring with us. A gift for one of the masseuses."

"Oh! I thought you might have eyes for someone there," Miya teases.

"Shut up," I say light-heartedly. Though Miya seems to abruptly fall silent.

"I'm just playing with you. I don't actually want you to shut up." I say.

"Oh, okay. Thanks. Yeah, I wasn't sure how to take that. Wait, why would it be in my room?" Miya asks.

"Well, it wasn't in my room. I may have thought to store it in your room since it is more organized."

"Okay... Next time please ask first. Also, don't expect me to say yes too much. I don't need my room becoming just an extension of yours."

"Yeah, sorry. I'll ask from now on."

"Well... I would help you look if I could... How long are you going to look?"

"Until I find it."

"Okay... Uh, what did you get ver anyway?" Miya asks as ve impatiently pokes at a knot in ver web.

"A doll," I say.

"Odd gift, though I collect the cooler feeling sponges I get from some tea shops, so who am I to judge?"

Yetu are notorious for keeping well-organized living spaces. Given that they are nearly blind to non-living materials, it's essential that everything has a place. Miya's room has a web of woven ropes drooping shallowly from the ceiling, allowing me and those vetu of more average heights to walk cleanly beneath it. The design of the web is such that Miya can know where ve is at any given time just from touching the pattern of the weave.