Visit Shuten Doji

There are some people who dominate a room no matter what they are doing. Shuten Doji happens to be such a person.

Shuten is a tall woman - taller than you for sure. Her head is level with your navel when you enter her room. That wouldn’t be an impressive detail were it not for the fact she sits atop a throwpillow, her legs crossed beneath her short table – a Chabudai - as she silently drinks tea. Steam leaks from the spout of a kettle set in the middle of the table.

Her skin is as pale as pearl. Two horns, glimmering and shiny, poke out from beneath her well-kept and silky black hair. Her cheery blue and purple kimono is undone just enough to show off her bust without seeming either indecent or demure. Everything, from a room molded to resemble a noblewoman’s estate in her homeland to the faint scent of perfume filling the room, is meant to present a very specific image.

It's oh so terrifying that she's upholding her lies even though you've known her for longer than she's been trying to tell them.

Shuten acknowledges your presence with a nod as you join her at the table. By seating yourself in the same manner as her your eyes cannot help themselves from naturally meeting her cleavage. You resolve this issue by craning your head upward to look her in the eyes.

She returns your gesture by shutting her own to once more take a long sip of tea. Only once she has set her cup down with a quiet clunk! and set folded hands in her lap does she bother to look you in the eyes and tilt her head in invitation.

She's given you permission to speak. You hate being indebted to her.

“I hope my hospitality has been to your liking, Lady Shuten.” You cover your hatred with a polite smile.

“It has, Godfrey. You are as excellent a host as ever. Tea?” She gestures. She does not point, because when she briefly lifts one of her hands with too-long and too-sharp nails, she simply extends a curled index finger outward and towards a second cup.

“Perhaps. I would not want to impose on my own guest." You purse your lips.

“Nonsense. Tea is made to be shared, no? And besides. We are here for business. I might as well wring a little pleasure from this." Shuten politely laughs your concerns away with a devilish smile. A cloud of steam obscures her face for a moment as she leisurely poured you a cup of tea. You accept the scolding cup with a quiet thanks.

The tea is so hot that it stings. You think you detect a hint of **** in that burning too. It forces you to cough and hide your discomfort as you try to say with a now raspy voice, “Then please. Let me get straight to the point...”