SCP-1690

Description

SCP-1690 is a humanoid entity composed entirely of cooked vinegared rice (sushi-meshi), dried seaweed, and pieces of various raw fish. The components of SCP-1690's body do not appear to age, though any food produced by SCP-1690 using parts of itself is perishable. SCP-1690 has no easily discernible facial features, but possesses sensory perception similar to that of a human’s. SCP-1690 is capable of bipedal locomotion and has demonstrated advanced fine motor skills. SCP-1690 is also able to speak fluent Japanese as well as English, albeit with a strong Japanese accent. While speaking, the entity will insist on addressing all individuals with Japanese honorifics of respect.

SCP-1690 claims to be an amalgamation of the spirits of discarded and uneaten sushi rolls made "for the beautiful pursuit of true love", and professes that its goal is to craft sushi that will "reveal the pure feelings of its creator". SCP-1690 insists on being in the constant presence of a small sculpture made of wasabi, designated SCP-1690-1. SCP-1690-1, similarly to SCP-1690, does not degrade over time. It is modeled in the shape of a young woman wearing traditional Japanese attire, consistent with that of Edo Period noblewomen. SCP-1690 will regularly use wasabi taken from a cavity located on the left side of its chest to maintain SCP-1690-1's shape. When the sculpture is removed from SCP-1690's presence, SCP-1690 will exhibit emotional distress. After a certain period of time without proximity to SCP-1690-1, SCP-1690's physical structure will begin to deteriorate and it will begin to fall apart. Upon return of the sculpture, SCP-1690's body will gradually reform.

SCP-1690 behaves in a formal, disciplined manner; it often sits cross-legged and motionless in its cell, facing its wasabi sculpture. On occasion, SCP-1690 will craft various sushi items using ingredients removed from its body. Previous items have included nigiri with the topping cut in the shape of sakura petals, and salmon sashimi arranged in the shape of the kanji 恋 (koi, “love”). Consistently after finishing each creation, SCP-1690 will present the sushi to SCP-1690-1, and seemingly interpret the sculpture's lack of response as rejection. SCP-1690 will then emit distressed vocalizations and consume the sushi.

SCP-1690 will often request individuals to sample sushi it has prepared during interviews and testing. Should the offer be refused, or should a consumer react unfavorably, SCP-1690 will enter a state of shock and remain motionless while "shedding" layers of its body, before resuming its normal complacent behavior and returning the shed pieces to itself. Sushi crafted by SCP-1690 possesses no anomalous properties and is generally described by D-Class personnel as “ordinary, nothing special” with the individual ingredients being of "decent quality". Despite repeated removal of material from its body, SCP-1690 does not appear to diminish in mass.

Addendum 1690-1: Foundation personnel located SCP-1690 and SCP-1690-1 at a fishing village near the ████████ prefecture of Japan, following the condemnation of a reputedly haunted sushi restaurant. The restaurant in question had been abandoned by the owner, who, according to the locals, had moved the business after a long-awaited marriage. When SCP-1690 was instructed to accompany Foundation personnel, the entity complied without objection or inquiry, allowing itself to be taken into Foundation custody along with its wasabi sculpture. All nearby witnesses in the area were administered Class-A amnestics.

Addendum 1690-2: Following a series of interviews, SCP-1690 is confirmed to be associated with the ████ family, the original owners of the condemned sushi restaurant (see interview log). Though SCP-1690 demonstrates familiarity with human emotions, the extent of SCP-1690’s empathic understanding is currently unknown.

Interview Log-1690-█

The following interview took place on ██/██/████, at ██:██.

SCP-1690 and Dr. Akagi are seated within SCP-1690’s containment unit. SCP-1690 is arranging slices of raw fish it recently removed from itself.

Dr. Akagi: Good afternoon, SCP-1690.

SCP-1690: Good afternoon, esteemed doctor.

Dr. Akagi: Please tell me more about why you practice your craft.

SCP-1690: My goal is to emulate my master. Master strived and honed his art to win the heart of his first love.

Dr. Akagi: Is that the woman your sculpture is modeled after? Who is she?

SCP-1690: Yes. She is my master’s lady. Her family and my master’s family were allied in artisan trade. They served the noble classes, though her house was more auspicious than his.

Dr. Akagi: What happened to your master?

SCP-1690: He proved his worth to her and her family through his art. Now I seek to do the same.

Dr. Akagi: You have remarkable skill.

SCP-1690: It is not my master’s equivalent. I have practiced, but it is not the same. Many years have passed. I lack something he was able to put into his craft.

Dr. Akagi: Are you missing a special ingredient?

SCP-1690: I do not know. My master was lonely and heartsick when he made me, but he found his path. Someday I will find my own.

Addendum 1690-3 SCP-1690 has occasionally made requests for sheets of rice paper. Upon granting of these requests, SCP-1690 began to compose poetry, generally haiku or senryu, using soy sauce as an artistic medium. Among these works was the following composition (translated from Japanese):

Master, I follow your craft unerringly
Yet an emptiness settles between my fingers
I fear there is something I do not understand.
What does my art lack?
Your hands shaped the art that led her to your side
What mystic charm did your art weave upon the sakura maiden
How did your art warm such a smile? Do I not
Yearn for the same smile?
My hands are your art. Why
Am I not the same?
My words are your words.
What does my heart lack?
What do I lack?