How the Emperor likes his Tofu

"The Emperor has ordered provision be made for my daughter to become a maid of Her Imperial Serenity, the chosen consort, when she is better," Gentle Whiskers tells me at his next visit, while he makes me walk up and down the stones. If I slow down or stop before he thinks I should, he twitches a little cane at my legs that stings. "You pleased him greatly. Thank you."

He has been trying to explain that I am not tofu, but does not seem to understand when I say I am. Not like the Emperor does. Angry Lady has been coming in and out of the door, carrying a tape which she whips around me or cloth that she uses to stick pins into me. Gentle Whiskers says this is for dressing me, but seems at a loss for what to say when I ask him what flavour it is.

Angry Lady seems different in front of Gentle Whiskers. His green and blue colours seem to calm her down, but do not stop her from sticking pins into me when he is not looking. She is ordered around by noisy women who bring in hot tubs of flower water, which they tell me is not for drinking, but for washing. The noisy women tut over me and exclaim over my skin. They giggle and call me 'Tofu', whispering what a lucky woman I am.

"I am not a woman," I tell them, wondering why they laugh when I say this. "I am tofu."

Although tofu should not have a smell, after many openings of the door and many washings in the flower water, I can smell the fragrance following me all the time. Heavy scratchy coverings are put on me, but I do not like them. A stiff lady orders everyone else around, sniffing or waving her fan, sometimes hitting them with it.

"Tofu must be prettily dressed and properly prepared for the Emperor," the women tell me, giggling behind their hands, when I try to take them off. "This is how you can be a good Tofu," they say, fussing over everything and painting my face with different powders and paints until Stiff Lady nods at them.

Stiff Lady makes me practice bowing and walking and sitting like she does. She smacks me with her fan and tells me not to make any noise. She explains that tofu is allowed to speak and move, but only at certain times, and even then, she says I am not fit to open my mouth.

Her explanations are like tumbling water. They do not make sense to a tofu being prepared to be eaten. The scolding and smacking with the fan makes me want to rebel. I am tofu. All this preparation is nothing like I expected. They cannot tell me what I will taste like.

Sometimes, the Emperor comes in and asks me to tell him about tofu. I am pleased to explain and answer his questions, but from the questions he asks, sometimes I feel he does not fully understand me. Still, I am grateful when he says I am good and seem to be improving. When he speaks to me without the nasal whine, I feel like I am glowing. I know he does. When he is happy, he glows and my fear fades.

The door opens and I can smell the perfume before I see him. I hear the chair being carried in and the pattering of feet as the men in blue hurry back out. Unusually, the door closes.

"Get up, Tofu," says the Emperor and his bright eyes smile at me. There are no stones today. That is good. "Help me with these things."

On the chair is a pile of folded materials that he picks up and throws over my sleeping bench to cover the bare stone.

"Isn't that more beautiful?" he asks me.

I nod to please him, although not understanding why the bed must be dressed.

Long soft things are placed on top. They are as soft as silken tofu and feel so smooth, yet cold. Cold to touch. I wonder what they are for and decide they must be for bordering the bed, protecting one from the cold walls of the bed.

"Not there," he tells me, his warm hands guiding mine. The long soft things are placed on one end of the bed only. I still cannot figure out how they would be used. "These are to make us more comfortable." He pulls me away from the bed and presses his lips to my forehead and cheek, releasing the catches of my robes, letting my dressings fall away from me. "No need to stay dressed," he says, now nibbling at the folds of skin in my neck. "I am just as pleased with my good, plain Tofu." He sits me down, shedding his outer robes, letting them fall over mine on the floor. "Today, I will show you what it is like to be eaten by the Emperor. I will make you the best Tofu."

He lays me down and joins me. I do not understand what he wants, what he does, why he does. I only know his body is warm.