Morning sunlight filtered through the trees, warm and peaceful.Birds chirped.A gentle breeze rustled the leaves.
For five blissful seconds, Keika thought— maybe, just maybe,—today would be calm.
Then he opened his eyes.
And saw five half-naked tiger-people practicing "human greetings" around a campfire.
"Salutations, my… fellow… peasants?""How do you do, insignificant mortal?""We offer our fluffy blessing upon thy face!"
Facepalm.
"…We've been over this," Keika groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "You don't call people peasants. You don't 'bless their faces.' And for heaven's sake, wear shirts when we're near civilization!"
"But, My King," said the red-eyed leader innocently, "humans enjoy physical displays of dominance, do they not?"
"That's not dominance, that's public indecency!"
One of the female tigers raised her hand. "But you once said we should 'act confident.'"
"Confidence isn't the same as seduction!"
The entire pack looked at each other, confused.
"But seduction is a form of confidence, is it not?""He's right.""He does have that 'host aura.'"
"DON'T COMPARE ME TO MY JOB!" Keika shouted, collapsing to his knees. "I'm trying to make you normal, not open a heavenly cabaret!"
A few hours later, Keika stood with his arms crossed as his "students" lined up in a row.
"Okay. Lesson one: how to greet normal people.You bow slightly. Not too deep, not too long. Simple."
He demonstrated. Graceful, polite, perfect form.
"Now you try."
The tigers nodded seriously. Then, as one, they all bent so low that their foreheads hit the ground with a thud.
"We offer our lives and fur to your service, oh humble villagers!" they chanted.
The forest shook with the sound.
"No! No! That's not a bow, that's a cult ritual!"
A nearby squirrel dropped its nut and ran for its life.
Lesson two did not go better.
"When you meet someone new, shake their hand."
Keika held out his hand to the red-eyed leader.
"Gently," he added preemptively.
The leader smiled, then took Keika's hand with the strength of a hydraulic press.
CRACK.
"Ow—OW—LET GO! THAT'S MY BONES!"
The tiger panicked, releasing him immediately. "Forgive me! I forgot my human restraint!"
Keika's hand hung limp like overcooked noodles.
"Yeah, sure. Happens all the time," he said flatly. "Next time, just break my will to live instead—it'll hurt less."
Lesson three: "eating like a human."
Keika set up a picnic with some bread and stew they'd bought from the last village (after three apologies and a fake name).
"No growling. No tearing. No hunting mid-meal. We use spoons. Like this."
He carefully scooped a spoonful of stew and ate gracefully.
The tigers stared in silent fascination. Then, together, they mimicked him——by scooping the entire pot with their spoons and inhaling it in one go.
SLUUURP
Keika's soul left his body.
"…Why did I even try."
One of them licked the spoon thoughtfully. "Humans are so inefficient. Why not just eat the pot too?"
"Because that's not how digestive systems work!!"
By midday, Keika was sitting on a tree stump, holding his head like a man who'd aged ten years in one morning.
"I ran a host club full of drunk nobles for a decade," he muttered. "But this? This is worse. I'd take ten clingy duchesses over one curious tiger any day."
The cub padded up to him and sat down beside his feet.
"My King looks tired."
"I am tired."
"Would cuddling help?"
"No."
"…Cuddling usually helps."
"No it—actually, wait, don't—okay fine. Just for a bit."
The cub curled up in his lap, purring loudly. Against his will, Keika felt some of the exhaustion melt away.
He sighed. "I swear you're the only one who doesn't give me a headache."
The cub blinked up at him, eyes bright. "Then I am your favorite?"
"Don't push it."
A loud explosion echoed nearby.Keika jumped to his feet. "What was that?!"
The red-eyed leader appeared from the treeline, covered in soot and holding what looked like a burning frying pan.
"Apologies, My King. We attempted to prepare 'human breakfast.'"
"…How did you make stew explode?!"
"We wanted to see what would happen if we used divine fire."
Keika inhaled deeply.
Then screamed.
"STOP USING DIVINE ANYTHING!"
The forest birds took off again.
By nightfall, the "training" had resulted in:
Three broken spoons,
One destroyed pot,
Two crying tigers (who felt bad for being scolded),
And Keika seriously considering faking amnesia to escape responsibility.
As he lay under the stars, eyes half-open, he muttered,
"If the gods are listening… please reincarnate me as a tree next time. Trees don't have harems."
The cub snuggled closer.
"My King?"
"Yeah?"
"Tomorrow, can you teach us how humans flirt?"
Keika's eyes snapped open.
"…You mean talk normally, right?"
"No, we mean flirt. You're an expert, aren't you?"
Ten pairs of glowing eyes turned toward him expectantly.
Keika stared at the heavens.
"I take it back. Reincarnate me as moss."