Hisaki had already nimbly taken out the white bath towel from the bamboo basket in the corner. The towel had been neatly folded after Dr. Qi Lai left.
She walked over to the bathtub. Rinna was soaking in a daze, the warmth of the medicinal bath wrapping her whole body in softness, to the point where she didn’t even want to move a finger.
She leaned against the edge of the bathtub, her amber eyes half-open and half-closed, with extremely fine water droplets clinging to her eyelashes.
Hisaki bent down, spread out the bath towel, then supported Rinna’s head with one hand and her shoulder with the other, gently lifting her out of the bathtub.
The medicinal soup dripped down Rinna’s body, leaving trails of amber-colored water marks on her skin, falling onto the waterproof mat with faint pattering sounds.
Hisaki immediately wrapped her entire body with the bath towel, from shoulders to ankles, tightly swaddled, leaving only a small face flushed with steam and a pair of still dazed eyes exposed.
Then she began, using the method Dr. Qi Lai had instructed… Press… Starting from the shoulders, through the towel, using the warmth of her palms to absorb the moisture from the skin bit by bit. The pressure was neither tight nor loose, the rhythm neither fast nor slow.
Rinna stood there obediently letting Hisaki help her, with a layer of uneven light pink coloring her earlobes, unsure if it was residual heat from the medicinal soup or something else.
***
After getting dressed, Hisaki put her arm around Rinna and returned to her own room next door.
On the bed, the two pillows, one large and one small, were still side by side against the headboard, with shallow creases on the white sheets left from when the two had embraced and slept last night.
Rinna, supported by Hisaki, leaned against the headboard, with a small cream-colored back cushion behind her, sinking into the support of just the right firmness.
She closed her eyes and let out a breath. It wasn’t a sigh, just gently exhaling the last bit of medicinal soup’s warmth still in her chest.
Then, Hisaki leaned in. Naturally approaching, as if drawn by Rinna’s scent.
She brought her nose to the hollow of Rinna’s neck, gently sniffed, then paused for a moment.
“Rinna, you smell so good.”
Rinna froze, instinctively lowered her head, grabbed the collar of her shirt on her shoulder, and brought it to her nose. Couldn’t smell it.
She turned her head, lifted the white hair hanging on her shoulder up, covered her face with it, and took a deep breath.
The hair strands had been steamed by the medicinal soup’s vapor for a full eight minutes, then wrapped and smothered by the bath towel for a while.
The moment they touched the air, the mixed scent of astragalus, mugwort leaves, and red dates lingering in the gaps between the hair strands was finally released—strong but not pungent. It smelled strangely comforting.
“Seems… I can smell a little,” Rinna admitted honestly.
Hisaki buried her face another half inch into Rinna’s neck hollow, her nose almost touching the skin above the collarbone, which had been made especially soft and tender by the medicinal bath, and took another deep breath. Her black hair slid down from her shoulder, the ends falling on Rinna’s chest.
It tickled, making Rinna shrink her neck, but she didn’t dodge; she just lifted her chin a little, giving Hisaki a better spot to sniff.
And so Hisaki just clung to her and sniffed for a good while, like a big dog whose soul had been captivated by the new shampoo scent on its owner, unable to get enough sniffing.
Rinna felt a bit embarrassed being sniffed like that, but she couldn’t bear to push her away. When Hisaki sniffed her, her eyes were slightly narrowed, leaving only the simple attachment of an animal to something it likes.
***
At 11:30 AM, the Kurose family’s lunch began on time.
The sliding doors of the Guest Reception Main Building were pushed open from both sides simultaneously by the servants.
The washi paper hanging lamps were not lit; the daylight was enough to illuminate the entire Large Tatami Room, making it look clear and solemn.
The others took their seats in order, and bowls and dishes were silently placed on each low table. The rising steam swayed gently in the cross-breeze coming from the courtyard.
Rinna sat in the second seat of the left family section, next to Hisaki.
The black lacquer tray held today’s lunch: a bowl of miso soup, with finely sliced soft tofu and a few green scallion rings floating on the surface; a dish of salt-grilled fish.
The skin slightly charred by charcoal fire, glistening with an oily sheen; a small bowl of simmered dish with soft radish and konjac noodles mixed together; a dish of pickles, sliced into thin fan shapes, neatly arranged in a small white dish; and a bowl of white rice, the grains crystal clear, emitting fine wisps of steam.
But what was different today from usual was that there was an extra person on Rinna’s other side. The seat belonging to the Eldest Son of the Kurose Family—usually always empty, a place where even bowls and chopsticks had never been set—finally had an owner today.
Kurose Sumire was sitting there quietly. He was wearing a well-fitting black short-sleeved T-shirt. His hair was black, the same deep black as his older sister Hisaki’s.
His bangs were cut unevenly, just a little below his eyebrows, revealing a face underneath that was soft, youthful, and so delicate it was hard to look away from.
The arch of his brow bones was soft and distinct, his eyelashes long, casting a small fan-shaped shadow on his eyelids when they quietly drooped. The lines of his nose bridge were more delicate than his sister’s, and his lips were clearly defined and small.
The most unforgettable thing about him was his eyes. The same dark brown pupils as Hisaki, shimmering with a deep and warm luster under the lamp’s light, but his way of looking at people was completely different from Hisaki’s.