Chapter 2: Sold
'Yeah… maybe I was wrong. This is going to be bad after all…'
Osha thought grimly to himself as he sat inside a carriage packed to the brim with crates of jewels, rare trinkets, and high-quality materials, many of which were unmistakably from Inazuma. He could easily tell by the distinct craftsmanship, lacquered boxes, delicate fans, and gemstones that shimmered with a peculiar purple hue.
A porter earlier had made it very clear what would happen if he so much as breathed too close to them.
"Touch anything in here, half-breed, and I'll cut your hand off."
The man had growled, tapping the hilt of his sword for emphasis.
Now, surrounded by crates of fortune, Osha slumped against the side of the carriage with a sigh, his tail flicking irritably.
"I guess I wasn't the only thing worth buying back in Inazuma…"
He muttered to himself, eyeing a particularly large ruby the size of his fist.
"Whoever bought all this stuff must be absolutely swimming in Mora… and I'm willing to bet it's the owner of that fancy mansion up on the hill."
He ran a hand through his still-fluffy hair, his expression somewhere between exhausted and resigned.
"But seriously… why me?"
He sighed.
"Every small, shiny rock in here's probably worth ten of me, if not more."
The thought stung a little more than he expected. After eight years of being treated like a spare coin no one wanted, you'd think he'd be used to it by now. And yet, here he was, questioning his worth again in a carriage full of literal treasure.
'At this point, I should come with a clearance tag. Buy one Sweet Madame, get one cat-eared orphan free.'
He let out a quiet, bitter laugh at his own dark humor and rested his head against the side of the carriage.
"What purpose could I possibly serve?"
Osha muttered under his breath, staring at the piles of gleaming jewels and rare artifacts surrounding him. The more he thought about it, the less sense it made. Why would anyone go through the trouble of buying him alongside all this treasure? What use could a half-starved, cat-eared orphan have for someone who clearly had no shortage of wealth?
Before he could spiral too deep into his thoughts, the carriage door was yanked open with a loud creak.
"Move it, half-breed."
The familiar, gruff voice of the porter barked.
Osha sighed, ears drooping slightly.
"Yeah, yeah… I'm moving."
He slid out of the carriage and onto solid ground.
The porter immediately stepped in front of him and began patting him down, hands briskly checking his sleeves, pockets, and belt for anything that might've gone missing. Osha rolled his eyes but let the man do his job.
"I'm not the type to risk losing a hand for a shiny rock."
Osha muttered as the porter checked around his tail and sleeves.
The porter snorted, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Hmph. Could've fooled me. I thought you would've, seeing as you were raised by ronins."
Osha's ears twitched. He shot the man a side glance, his tail flicking behind him like a lazy pendulum.
"Yeah, well… guess even a stray like me knows better than to steal from people who'd actually follow through on a threat."
The porter gave a noncommittal grunt, apparently deciding Osha was clean.
"Nyah! W-What are you doing?!"
Osha yelped, his ears flattening against his head as he felt something cold and metallic clamp around his neck.
To his utter shock, the porter had produced a collar, a sleek, black leather band with a small silver tag dangling from it, and was now fastening it tightly around his throat.
"Stop squirming, rat."
The porter grunted, gripping Osha by the back of his neck with one hand while buckling the collar with the other.
No matter how much Osha struggled, the difference in strength was like a kitten trying to wrestle a bear. The man was built like a brick wall, and the strength of an eight-year-old was no match for a burly, seasoned porter.
"Hey! I'm not some street pet you can leash! Get this thing off!"
Osha hissed, his tail puffing up in protest.
"Hmph. Orders are orders, half-breed."
The porter sneered.
"Now quit your whining unless you want me to tighten it."
Osha grits his teeth, feeling a mixture of humiliation and rage bubbling in his chest as the buckle is secured. He instinctively clawed at the collar, but it was firm and snug around his neck, just tight enough to be uncomfortable.
'Great. First I get sold like cargo, now I'm getting accessorized like one too.'
"Ouch! S-Stop pulling me so hard! I'm gonna call child ser- oh…"
Osha started to protest, only to realize mid-sentence that, of course, no such thing as child services existed in Teyvat. The concept of an organization dedicated to protecting unlucky, collar-wearing catboys like himself was probably about as real as a Vision falling from the sky into his hands.
'Right… different world. No child protection hotlines here.'
"Quit your whining, rat."
The porter growled, giving the leash attached to Osha's collar another sharp tug.
"Nyah-! Alright, alright! I'm walking!"
Osha yelped, stumbling forward to avoid getting yanked off his feet.
They were making their way through the grand front doors of the mansion now, alongside other porters and servants hauling crates of shimmering jewels, silken fabrics, and rare Inazuman wares. The building was enormous, with marble floors that gleamed like glass, tall arching windows, and chandeliers.
He glanced around, his eyes wide in both awe and suspicion.
'Yep… definitely Fontaine. Only this place would have enough money to buy literal mountains of treasure and a random stray like me on the side.'
The other porters didn't spare him a glance as they passed by, focused on their own heavy loads. To them, he was just another object being delivered.
Osha sighed.
"This is so not what I imagined when I dreamed of getting isekai'd…"
Shortly, they went inside the mansion, and inside was nothing short of extraordinary, clearly whoever owns this place probably lives more lavishly than Osha's favorite character, Furina.
"Nyah!"
Osha yelped as the porter suddenly yanked down on the collar like a lever, forcing his head to bow whether he liked it or not.
"Bow your head."
The porter growled, keeping a firm grip on the back of Osha's neck.
Before Osha could complain, the room fell into a hush. From the top of the grand staircase descended a woman, her every step slow and deliberate. She was dressed in an opulent, deep blue gown that shimmered like the surface of Fontaine's lakes, the skirt trailing behind her like liquid silk. A delicate fan concealed the lower half of her face, leaving only her sharp, calculating eyes visible as they swept over the gathered porters and servants.
"You have all returned. Very good."
She spoke, her voice smooth and elegant, carrying the kind of authority that left no room for argument.
At that, every servant in the room, including the porters with crates of priceless treasure, raised their heads in unison, a silent, well-practiced gesture of acknowledgment.
Osha, however, could only stare up at her from beneath the hand still pressing down on his neck.
'Damn… That's not a character from the game… or at least not one I recognize… unreleased maybe? Hidden Fontaine lore? Some kind of secret boss NPC?'
He squinted, half-expecting her name to appear above her head in glowing golden letters like in an RPG, but no such thing happened.
'Great… mystery lady with big villainess energy. This can't be good.'
The porter gave his collar another tug.
"Eyes down, rat."
He hissed, and Osha begrudgingly lowered his gaze once more.
'Nyah… This day keeps getting worse.'
Shortly after, the sharp clack of a high heel echoed in front of him. Osha looked up just enough to see the tip of a lavish shoe, polished and elegant. He gulped.
The woman's voice followed, calm and laced with dissatisfaction.
"Gus, I thought I told you to bring me an exotic creature from Inazuma. What I'm looking at right now is just a plain, scruffy little boy with cat ears and a tail. I fail to see what's so special about this one."
Her words stung more than Osha wanted to admit. She hadn't even addressed him directly, just spoke about him like he was some disappointing fruit at the market. A bruised peach with ears.
The porter beside him, apparently named Gus, cleared his throat awkwardly but said nothing in his defense.
Osha, meanwhile, lowered his head a little further.
'Ah… yep. I'm gonna be sold again.'
He sighed internally, accepting his fate with the resigned grace of someone who'd been through this routine one too many times. First his mother, then Hoshiguma, now this. Maybe next time they'd just throw him on sale during clearance week.
'Maybe I should just start carrying a 'For Sale' tag around my neck to save everyone the trouble.'
"My apologies, My La-"
Gus began, but the woman swiftly raised her hand, signaling him to stop. He fell silent immediately, not daring to finish his sentence.
Without another word, she gracefully stepped closer, the soft rustle of her dress audible in the quiet room. With a flick of her wrist, she used her fan to gently lift Osha's chin, forcing him to look up at her properly.
Her sharp, elegant eyes studied him for a moment, not with disgust now, but a curious, almost playful interest.
"Oh."
She murmured, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
"You actually look quite adorable… or perhaps it's just my weakness for cats."
Osha blinked, unsure whether he should feel insulted or flattered.
'I'll… take the compliment, I guess?'
She tilted her head slightly, tapping her closed fan against her cheek as though considering something.
"Tell me, boy."
She spoke, her voice softer now, though no less commanding.
"What's so special about you? Why should I keep you instead of sending you off to the House of Hearth, or perhaps selling you off to some 'Doctor' who collects oddities?"
The room seemed to grow heavier with her words, every porter and servant watching in tense silence to see how the strange little half-breed would answer.
'House of the Hearth?! The Doctor?!'
Osha's eyes widened as the words echoed in his mind like a death sentence.
'I know exactly which Doctor he's talking about, and not in a million lifetimes would I rather be sold to that guy. Nope. Anywhere else. Sell me to a fishmonger, a junk dealer, throw me in a barrel and ship me to Sumeru, just not to him!'
His mind raced desperately for anything, anything, that could convince this woman he was worth keeping around.
'Wait… I have a talent! Sort of…'
"I-I make the best iced tea in the world!"
Osha blurted out, his voice cracking slightly from the sheer panic.
"And… uh… horses tend to listen to me!"
The room fell silent for a beat.
'I'm cooked… just sell me off already…'
He sighed internally, bracing for the inevitable dismissal or a return trip to the auction block.
But instead, a sharp, musical laugh rang out.
"Pfft! Hahaha!"
The woman chuckled behind her fan, her eyes gleaming with amusement.
"Iced tea? And horses? Well, I do find myself in need of a new cupbearer."
Before Osha could even process what was happening, she took the leash from Gus with a delicate hand and gave it a tug, pulling Osha a step closer.
"But you should know something, boy."
She said, her tone light yet carrying an unmistakable edge.
"I hate liars. Even when they have fluffy ears and a tail."
Her eyes narrowed, watching him like a cat sizing up a particularly twitchy mouse.
Osha gulped again.
'Welp… better than the Doctor.'