Isekai Slow Life: Flora

Part 1

The morning air was crisp and cool as Hoshi, the elder of the village, stepped outside his wooden home, stretching his arms toward the sky. A gentle breeze carried the scent of fresh soil and blooming flowers, rustling through the village with a soft hum. The sky above was a perfect blue, with only a few wisps of white clouds drifting lazily in the distance. It was a peaceful morning—one of many in Keimonomimi Village.

Hoshi took a deep breath, feeling the familiar comfort of his quiet life. Though once an ordinary man back on earth, his new home in this world he had isekai'd into had given him something he never knew he wanted—tranquility. The village, a place where Keimonomimi and many other races coexisted in harmony, had become his sanctuary.

As he walked through the village, he was greeted warmly by its residents—fox-eared merchants setting up their stalls, cat-eared farmers preparing their fields, and rabbit-eared children chasing each other through the open pathways. His Fellows, the companions who had joined him on his journey, were already hard at work.

"Good morning, Hoshi!" called out a Knivi, a canine Keimonomimi who was patrolling the village.

"Morning," he replied with a small nod, his mushroom colored brown hair swaying slightly as he moved.

A pair of dwarven blacksmiths were hammering away at a glowing hunk of metal, the rhythmic clangs echoing through the village square. Near them, a group of elf-like scholars were engaged in deep conversation about the latest magical advancements, their robes billowing in the morning breeze.

Hoshi continued his walk, taking in the peaceful rhythm of life around him. He was not a warrior, nor a great hero. Unlike others who found themselves transported to another world, he had no grand mission to slay a demon king or save a kingdom. He was simply a man who traded, and lived at his own pace. And for him, that was enough.

Or at least, that's what he believed—until today. Because today, his peaceful life was about to be turned upside down.

Hoshi strolled through the bustling marketplace, the scent of fresh produce and baked bread filling the air. Stalls lined both sides of the path, each vendor proudly displaying their harvest—crisp vegetables, ripe fruits, and fragrant herbs.

He stopped at a familiar crop vendor, an elderly fox-eared man who had been selling produce since the village's early days. The vendor's table was piled high with leafy greens, plump tomatoes, and, most importantly, a heap of golden potatoes. Hoshi's stomach growled in approval at the sight of the potatoes.

"Morning, Elder Hoshi," the vendor greeted with a grin. "Looking for something good today?"

"Morning," Hoshi replied, scanning the selection. "I'll take some of these."

The vendor grabbed a few of the best potatoes and placed them in a small paper bag for him. They were firm and smooth—perfect for roasting or stewing. But just as he was about to hand over his payment, something else caught his eye. A large wooden crate sat beside the vendor, filled with freshly picked grapes. The skin of each grape was smooth and deep purple, practically shimmering under the sunlight.

"Grapes, huh?" Hoshi mused, picking up a small bunch. He rolled a grape between his fingers, noting its plumpness. "These would make a fine wine."

The vendor chuckled. "You've got a good eye. Had a strong harvest this year. I take it you'll be making another batch?"

Hoshi nodded. "That's the plan."

After paying for his goods, he tucked the grapes into his basket alongside the potatoes and made his way home. As he walked through the village, he passed by a small house with an open doorway. Inside, a young couple sat together, cradling a newborn in their arms.

Hoshi paused for a moment, watching them. He remembered the day they exchanged vows—how nervous the groom had been, how radiant the bride had looked, how the entire village had gathered to celebrate their union. Now, here they were, welcoming a new life into their home. A small smile formed on his lips.

It was a familiar scene. One he had witnessed many times before. And yet, as he continued walking, a thought lingered in his mind. "When will I meet someone for myself?"

It wasn't that there weren't people interested in him. If anything, there had been too many. Women of all races had expressed interest—Keimonomimi, elves, angels, demons, even a few humans who had found their way to the village. But none of it had felt real.

Most of them were drawn to his title—the elder of Keimonomimi Village. They saw his influence, his connection to the land, and his role in shaping the village's prosperity. But none had ever truly seen him. Not as Hoshi. Not as the simple businessman who enjoyed slow mornings and the quiet rhythm of village life.

Pushing the thought aside, he continued on his way home, unaware that fate had other plans in store for him. Hōshi continued his walk home, the basket of fresh produce hanging from his arm. The village around him was alive with the hum of daily life—merchants calling out their wares, blacksmiths hammering steel, children laughing as they chased one another through the dirt paths. But then, something unusual caught his eye.

Standing in the middle of an open clearing, where there had been nothing but grass and scattered stones the day before, was a gate. It wasn't attached to any structure—just a freestanding doorway, white like alabaster, its surface smooth and polished. An odd shimmer surrounded its edges, warping the air around it like heat rising from a summer road.

Hoshi narrowed his eyes. "That looks like one of Hermes's gates."

Hermes, one of his more eccentric Fellows, had a knack for creating magical portals. She often used them to travel between places and bring back exotic goods. But she was usually careful to close them after use.

"She must've come back from somewhere and forgot to put it away," Hoshi muttered.

Sighing, he adjusted his grip on the basket and stepped forward, intending to examine the gate and—if possible—close it himself. But the moment he came within arm's reach, the gate shuddered. A deep, resonating hum filled the air.

The shimmering aura intensified, and before Hoshi could react, the gate snapped open—not like a door swinging wide, but like the jaws of some unseen beast. A powerful force yanked at him.

"Wha—?!" he yelled as his feet lifted off the ground. The basket of potatoes jerked upward as if caught in a violent storm.

And then—He was sucked in.

Hoshi tumbled through a swirling tunnel of light and shadow, his body weightless and spinning. Colors bled together in a chaotic spiral, the sensation both dizzying and disorienting. His ears rang with the roar of wind rushing past, but beneath the noise, he could almost hear something—a distant, fading voice.

Before he could fully process the realization, the tunnel suddenly ended. Hoshi was flung forward, his body crashing through thick foliage. Leaves and branches tore at his clothes as he tumbled downward, landing hard on the damp earth below. The impact sent a jolt of pain through his body, but nothing felt broken.

For a moment, he just lay there, staring up at the unfamiliar canopy of trees above. The sky was a shade of blue different from the one he had known, the air thick with an unfamiliar scent—damp earth, blooming flowers, and something faintly magical.

He slowly sat up, wincing. His basket of potatoes had landed a few feet away, miraculously intact. But everything else? Nothing was familiar. Hoshi had no idea where he was.

"Erika?" he called out instinctively, hoping for a response. There was nothing but silence. Panic flickered in his chest. Erika had always been with him, guiding him, speaking to him through their bond. The only way he wouldn't be able to hear her was if—He had traveled to another world!

Hoshi scrambled to his feet, ignoring the lingering ache from his rough landing. His eyes darted back to the gate—the shimmering alabaster doorway that had so rudely pulled him from his peaceful life in Keimonomimi Village. It stood there, silent and still, as if mocking him.

"Alright, let's not panic." He took a steadying breath, stepping forward and placing both hands against the cool, polished surface of the door. It felt solid beneath his touch, reassuringly real. "Let's just—" He pushed. The door didn't budge.

Frowning, he tried again, this time putting more strength into it. The gate remained motionless, as if rooted in place. He gritted his teeth and shoved harder, bracing his entire weight against it. Nothing. Hoshi took a step back, frustration bubbling in his chest. "Come on, open up." He then tried knocking—no response. He ran his fingers along the edges, searching for some kind of latch or mechanism, but the surface was unnaturally smooth. He even tried kicking it at one point, but all that earned him was a sore foot.

"Tch." He let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of his head. "Guess that settles it. I'm stuck."

Stepping away from the gate, Hoshi took a moment to scan his surroundings. Towering trees stretched high above, their thick branches weaving together to form a dense canopy. Sunlight filtered through in scattered patches, casting dappled shadows across the forest floor. The air smelled damp, rich with the scent of moss and earth.

It was unfamiliar—nothing like the forests near Keimonomimi Village. More importantly, there was no sign of food or shelter.

His stomach tightened at the thought. The basket of potatoes he had managed to keep hold of would help, but it wasn't enough to last forever. And as much as he wanted to explore, he didn't want to stray too far from the gate. If there was any chance of it reopening—if Hermes realized her mistake and came looking for him—he needed to be here when it happened.

"Alright. First things first," he muttered to himself. "Find a safe spot, then figure out a way back."

As he turned to search for a suitable resting place, a strange sensation prickled at the back of his neck. The distinct feeling of being watched. Slowly, cautiously, Hoshi scanned the trees. At first, he saw nothing but thick branches and swaying leaves. But then—his eyes landed on a shadowy shape nestled high in the crook of a nearby tree. A large spider. Its dark, bristled body blended into the bark, its eight glimmering eyes fixed directly on him.

Hoshi froze. "…Well, that's not something you see every day."

The spider didn't move. It simply stared, as if studying him. Not in an aggressive way—more like a curious observer waiting to see what he would do next.

He exhaled slowly, relaxing just a little. "Not hostile, huh? That's a relief." Still, he wasn't about to drop his guard just yet. Hoshi kept his eyes trained on the spider, his body tense, ready to react if it made any sudden movements. But instead of lunging at him—or doing anything remotely threatening—the creature simply began to spin a web.

Thin strands of silk glistened in the filtered sunlight as the spider wove with deliberate precision. Hoshi watched in fascination as it moved with practiced ease, pulling and looping its webbing into a delicate pattern.

"What are you up to…?" he murmured, unable to look away.

Minutes passed, and then, with a final twitch of its legs, the spider finished its work. A bundle of silk detached from the web and floated gently downward.

Hoshi hesitated for a moment before cautiously stepping forward. He crouched down, his fingers brushing against the unexpectedly soft fabric. It wasn't just webbing—it was cloth, finely woven and smoother than anything he had ever felt before.

And there, stitched into the surface, was a single name: Zabuton.

Hoshi blinked in surprise. "Zabuton, huh? Is that your name?"

The spider, now descending from the tree, landed lightly on the forest floor. Up close, it was even bigger than he had initially thought—easily the size of a dog. But despite its imposing form, its movements were graceful, almost measured.

Zabuton skittered forward, its many eyes flicking between Hoshi and the basket he had set down. More specifically—the potatoes.

Hoshi arched a brow. "You like potatoes, Zabuton?" The spider tapped its front legs against the ground, almost as if confirming his question.

Hoshi let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Lucky me," he muttered, pulling a potato from the basket and holding it out. "A vegetarian spider. At least I know you won't eat me."

Zabuton delicately took the potato with its front limbs, inspecting it before scuttling back a few paces. It began spinning more silk, as if preparing something else.

Hoshi watched in amusement. "Huh. Guess you're a trader, too."For the first time since arriving in this strange world, he felt a little less alone.

As the final strands of silk wove together, Zabuton carefully lifted the finished product and presented it to Hōshi. He accepted the large piece of cloth, running his fingers over the smooth surface. It was incredibly soft yet tightly woven, with a texture that suggested it might even be waterproof.

He turned it over in his hands, puzzling over its purpose, until realization struck. "You want me to build a tent for myself?" Zabuton tapped one of its front legs against the ground in confirmation.

Hoshi let out a small chuckle. "Well, aren't you considerate?" He gave the spider an appreciative nod. "Thanks, Zabuton. This'll help a lot." Without wasting time, he gathered sturdy branches from the surrounding forest, securing them into a frame before draping the silk cloth over it. The material stretched perfectly, keeping its form without sagging, and when he tested it with a splash of water from his flask, the droplets simply rolled off. "Definitely waterproof," he said to himself.

By the time the sun began to dip below the horizon, his shelter was complete. A small fire crackled at the entrance, casting flickering shadows across the forest floor as warmth seeped into his weary limbs. Settling down beside the fire, Hoshi pulled a few potatoes from his basket, skewering them on sticks before roasting them over the open flame. The rich, earthy scent filled the air as the skins crisped to a golden brown. He took a bite—soft, warm, and just the right amount of sweetness. It was comfort food.

But as he checked his remaining stock, his good mood wavered. He frowned. Not much left. If he rationed carefully, he could stretch them for maybe two days—three at most. That was without sharing or trading for other supplies. He sighed, leaning back slightly. "Not great."

As if sensing his thoughts, Zabuton skittered closer and tapped a leg against another potato.

Hoshi exhaled. "I know, I know. You want more." He gestured at his dwindling supply. "But I really don't have enough to spare. If only I could grow more…"

Zabuton suddenly perked up, as if struck by an idea. Without hesitation, the spider scurried away into the forest. Hoshi blinked. "Uh… okay?"

Minutes passed. The fire crackled. The wind whispered through the trees. Then—Zabuton returned, something clutched tightly in its front legs, a hoe. The tool was simple but sturdy, its handle smooth and well-worn. Zabuton extended it toward him expectantly.

Hoshi took it, running a hand over the wooden shaft. "You're saying I should farm?" Another tap of confirmation from Zanbuton. He glanced at his potatoes, considering. "I guess I could spare a couple to plant… But I don't know if they'll grow in time." Still, it was better than doing nothing.

Determined, Hoshi got to work. The soil here was unfamiliar, but the hoe cut through it with ease, making small furrows for planting. He placed a few potatoes into the ground, covering them carefully with dirt before patting them down. With a satisfied nod, he stood and stretched, turning to Zabuton. "There. Now we just need water."

As if on cue, the hoe suddenly shifted in his hands. Hoshi yelped, nearly dropping it as its shape twisted and morphed—the handle shrank, the blade folded inward, and within seconds, he was no longer holding a hoe. He was now holding a watering can.

His mouth fell open. "What—?!" Cautiously, he tilted the can forward. Crystal-clear water poured out in a steady stream, soaking the freshly planted soil.

His stunned gaze flickered between the tool and Zabuton, who simply watched, unbothered. Hoshi hesitantly took a sip from the spout. Cool, refreshing water. "No way… A magical farming tool?" Experimenting, he focused on the can, imagining the hoe again. Instantly, it shifted back. A slow grin spread across his face. Curiosity piqued, he thought of an axe—and the tool morphed accordingly. Then a knife, a saw, one by one, the tool transformed with nothing more than a thought, adapting seamlessly into whatever he envisioned. A true farmer's arsenal in a single tool.

Hoshi laughed in amazement, holding up the ever-changing tool. "This is incredible!" He turned to Zabuton with a wide grin. "Thank you, Zabuton! With this, I might actually have a chance!" He gave Zanbuton another potato for the tool. For the first time since arriving in this strange world, he felt a flicker of hope.

Once the farming was done, he collapsed under his silk-draped tent, exhaustion weighing down his limbs. The soil was tilled, the seeds were planted, and now he had no potatoes left to eat—only the hope that they'd sprout quickly. Curling beneath the silken canopy, he let his eyes drift shut, clinging to the thought of fresh potatoes and maybe, eventually, a way home.

As the first light of dawn filtered through the trees, Hoshi stirred beneath the silk canopy of his makeshift tent. He stretched with a yawn, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before stepping outside. The morning air was cool and crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and fresh foliage.

His gaze drifted toward the small plot of land he had tilled the night before, then—he froze. His heart skipped a beat as he realized that the field was full. What had been freshly planted just hours ago was now bursting with life—lush green leaves swayed gently in the morning breeze, and beneath them, thick, ripe potatoes peeked through the soil, ready for harvest.

Hoshi's breath caught in his throat. "No way… That fast?"

He rushed forward, dropping to his knees. With eager hands, he grasped the base of a plant and gave it a firm pull. The roots released easily, revealing a cluster of massive, golden-skinned potatoes—each one plump and perfect, like something straight out of a dream. For a moment, he simply stared, his mind racing to comprehend what he was seeing. Then, a wide grin spread across his face.

"I can't believe it! This is amazing!" He laughed, holding up the freshly unearthed potatoes. "I'm saved!" Relief flooded through him. He no longer had to worry about starving—he had food, he had tools, and he had a way to survive, at least, until he found a way home.

Nearby, Zabuton watched silently, its many eyes glinting with quiet amusement. Hoshi exhaled, shaking his head in disbelief as he glanced at his magical farming tool, still clutched in his hand. "Looks like this world really wants me to keep farming, huh?" He let out a chuckle, feeling something he hadn't since arriving in this unfamiliar place—hope.