Majo no Tabitabi - Volume 4 - Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Trivial Stories

Food to Impress a Gourmand

In a certain country lived an impertinent epicure.

“Not to brag, but I’ve eaten every type of cuisine in the world. To be frank, I don’t suppose there is a man on earth who knows as much about food as I do.”

The epicure invited top-notch chefs to his stately mansion night after night for parties. Ragers, every day. He would call over guests for these nightly socials. For such a self-styled epicure, he seemed to have an insatiable appetite for something, because he had a habit of generously inviting young girls to attend the parties for free.

“How about it, Miss Witch? Are you enjoying yourself?”

Enticed by the free meal, I had agreed to attend one such party, where I had devoured the handiwork of many famous chefs.

“Yes. Quite so. I’m very satisfied.”

“Glad to hear that.” The gourmand was wearing a suit of excellent quality, and his voice was full of self-assurance. “By the way, I hear you are a traveling witch. What do you think? Is there anything greater than the food here? I can’t imagine there could be.”

“Uh-huh…”

“Nothing comes to mind, right?”

“Well, I don’t suppose so.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

If the meal’s free, I’ll keep my minor complaints to myself. Though they say there’s nothing more expensive than something free—and listening to this guy carry on, I’d say this is the most expensive meal in the world! But exorbitant prices don’t make something great.

“—Ah, hey! You there! What are you doing? What’s with this plating? Have you no respect for food?”

Whenever there was a lull in the party, the epicure would issue instructions to the chefs that bordered on abuse.

“Hey, little girl! That’s not the ideal way to eat that dish! Get out of here, you ignorant child!” Sometimes his harsh words didn’t stop with the chefs but extended to the guests.

I was no exception, as earlier he had seen me spread butter on top of bread and confiscated it, saying, “If you use that much butter, you won’t be able to enjoy the taste of the bread itself!”

Now the gourmand seemed to have calmed down, wearing a peaceful expression as he swirled his wineglass.

“Geez… Don’t you think there are far too many people who don’t understand anything about food? Well, you’ve got a bit of that tendency, too, I suppose.”

“Uh-huh…”

“I’m happy that you can sample these offerings and have a little taste of fine dining. It might be hard to start up your travels again with your newly refined palate.”

“That would be troublesome.”

“I’m sure. It’s not such a happy thing, you see. Since I’ve eaten so much haute cuisine, nothing really surprises me anymore.”

Oh, the luxury to have such a problem.

The epicure sighed. “Oh, I wonder if there isn’t someone somewhere who can make a dish that will impress me? If there was such a person, I would pay a great sum to be allowed to eat—”

Someone who can make food to impress the impertinent epicure, huh?

I hear you.

“In that case, I know someone who can do it.”

“Oh? Who would that be?”

That’s right.

“It’s me.”

A Novel to Captivate a Bookworm

In a certain country lived an impertinent bookworm.

He had read every kind of book in the world and made his living as a literary critic. He was a plump old man living a comfortable and secluded life in his stately mansion.

“I heard that you, the traveling witch, caused that cheeky young epicure to cease holding his famous dinner parties altogether. Is that the truth?”

On that particular day, I had been invited to the residence of that particular bookworm, where he made such an inquiry of me.

“Where did you hear that story?”

According to the rumors, the epicure had ceased his nightly parties after eating the greatest dish, prepared by me, and stopped sharing amazing cuisine with other people.

As a result, I had made enemies of the many girls in this country who had been enjoying the free meals. Well, these things do happen.

“One of the employees working here now was originally a maid who had worked at that estate. That’s where she heard about you. Just what kind of sleight of hand did you use to satisfy that youngster? I’m told he was quite vocal about culinary matters.”

“If you want to know so badly, why not ask your maid?”

“I did, but she didn’t really know. That’s why I invited you here. Get my imagination going.”

“……”

He’s awfully arrogant.

“But why do you want to know? Or do I have to use my imagination to find that answer, too?”

“Hmm. Take a guess,” he said, puffing away on his pipe from atop his chair.

He’s got an ego.

Apparently, it was too much of a bother for this old man, who was enjoying his reclusive life shut up in his study, surrounded by a bunch of books, to move his mouth and tell his own stories.

Well, that wasn’t too hard to imagine.

“You’ve spent your life reading many interesting stories and tales, but now you’re very, very bored, and you summoned me here because you want to hear an interesting story, right?”

“Oh… That’s right.” The bookworm raised an eyebrow. “I’ve grown tired of recent novels; not a single one of them is of any import. Compared to classical literature, popular fiction is nothing, nothing at all. Many new books are published every month, but none of them strike a chord with me. They’re all dreadfully dull. That’s why I’ve grown so bored.”

“I bet.”

“How do you know?”

“How about I get your imagination going again?”

Well, in actual fact, the bookworm and the epicure were just two birds of a feather.

“If you’re that bored, then if you like, tomorrow I’ll come here and bring a novel that you’ll want to tell someone about right away. If I do that, I think you’ll understand why the epicure stopped holding his dinners.”

“Oh…how interesting. So you’re saying that you’re going to inspire me to shut myself away in my estate like the epicure?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“Why not?”

“I think you should know, even without using your imagination.”

You’re already a recluse.

And so, on the following day, I brought a single book to the bookworm’s house.

“Please read this to the end. I’m sure you’ll want to tell someone about it right away,” I said and left.

It took three days before the bookworm’s maid hesitantly came to visit me at the inn where I was staying. “Um…the master has summoned you to come at once…”

The bookworm was waiting for me at his estate, wearing a rather twisted expression. “What is the meaning of this?” He slammed the book down on the table.

What a horrid way to treat a book, for a bookworm, I thought as I stared at him. But when I looked closely, it was the one I had given to him several days earlier.

It seemed he was dissatisfied with my book.

“What on earth is this? It had no themes to speak of, and there’s absolutely no structure to the writing. It’s just the everyday conversations of ordinary people, repeated over and over again! There’s nothing that could even remotely be called foreshadowing. The characters possess no qualities that are charming. This is the first book I’ve ever read that had me in agony from line three!”

“……”

By the way, the book did not have a title. It was someone’s personal novel that I had happened to find at a general store in some out-of-the-way country somewhere. The contents were definitely hot garbage.

I was the one who had given him the book, but in actuality, the novel had been so boring that I had absolutely no recollection of the contents. However, I did remember that immediately after I finished reading—a feat of not inconsiderable willpower—I had felt an inestimable sense of indignation. If I remember correctly, I think I put in my best effort and finished reading the book in about three hours, but thinking back on it, those must have been the most pointless three hours of my entire life.

On the other hand, it had apparently taken three days for the bookworm to finish, so he must have now been fuming over the most pointless three days of his life.

“I read it over and over, thinking I must have skipped over some interesting scene, but this is, without a doubt, a steaming load! Why did you give me something like this? I don’t recall asking for such a boring story.”

He was rather angry.

It had been the same with the epicure.

A smile spread across my face. I said the same thing I had told the gourmand after he had finished eating a meal that was impressively bad.

“But didn’t it make you want to tell someone about it?”