A little while later.
She put the bag into the dry cleaning machine, pressed the switch, and the machine began to hum with a low drone.
Next came the more important preparation.
Hisaki pushed open the door to the Second Bedroom.
She had been setting up this room for a month now.
Every time she finished watching that White Fur Ball under the Bridge Underpass from the bridge, she couldn’t help wanting to do something for that filthy little thing.
At first, she only bought a bed.
Then came pillows. She bought three with different firmness levels and lined them up in a row, because she didn’t know how tall a pillow Shiro preferred.
Then came the rug, the desk lamp, the small study desk, the vanity, the plush toys…
By the time she realized it, this room looked more like “home” than the Master Bedroom she lived in.
Hisaki stood in the center of the room, looked around, and nodded with satisfaction.
Although she really wanted to just drag Shiro into her room and sleep together tonight…
After all, who could resist a freshly bathed, steaming, fragrant little soft walking dessert?
…But she understood the concept of taking things step by step.
Locking Shiro away and keeping her by her side forever was just like falling in love.
You can’t reveal your intentions too quickly.
Unless it’s mutual, you’ll scare her off.
You slowly let her get used to your presence, and then gradually trick her into your bed…
***
At the wardrobe, she pulled open the door.
The clothes she had bought for Shiro.
The wardrobe.
Looking at the results filling the entire wardrobe, a satisfied smile curled at the corner of her mouth.
The sizes of these clothes weren’t obtained from Shiro herself.
She had observed from afar for a month.
From the way the White Fur Ball curled up on the sofa, she eyeballed the approximate bust and waist measurements.
From the legs that dangled over the armrest of the sofa, she estimated her height.
From the feet in those nearly broken sandals, she calculated her shoe size.
But visual estimation was still just estimation. Errors were inevitable.
So Hisaki’s approach was to buy a few extra sizes above and below her estimated range.
One pair of slippers for each size from 36 to 39, one nightgown in each size from S to L, and even underwear in several different sizes.
One of them was bound to fit.
And what if none of them fit?
Then she’d buy more.
Hisaki’s fingers slid across the hanging nightgowns before finally stopping on a white silk nightgown.
She took it down and unfolded it to look.
Pure cotton, soft to the touch, with thin straps and a relatively low neckline. On Shiro, fresh from her bath, that clean body would expose a considerable amount of surface area to her gaze.
Hisaki swallowed.
She picked a flesh-toned camisole from the underwear drawer…
Calling it a camisole was more like a sports bra, really. After all, from Hisaki’s estimation, Shiro’s chest was pitifully small, barely needing a proper bra.
And a new pair of pure cotton white underwear.
She folded these clothes neatly, then took a green bath towel printed with the frog prince pattern from the wardrobe.
Hisaki carried the stack of clothes and the towel out of the Second Bedroom, walked down the hallway, and arrived at the Bathroom door.
The sound of water was still splashing.
She stood in front of the door for two seconds, then raised her hand to knock.
Her knuckles rapped against the frosted glass with a crisp sound.
The water in the Bathroom stopped abruptly.
Two seconds of silence.
Then Shiro’s fur-bristling voice.
“Wh-what?!”
Muffled by the steam and frosted glass, the voice sounded dull, but the alertness and panic were undiminished.
Hisaki softened her voice.
“Shiro, I’ve left your clothes and towel by the door.”
“L-leave them there!”
“Remember to dry off before dressing. And dry your hair too. The hair dryer is in the drawer under the sink.”
“I know, I know! Go away! Stop standing at the door!”
Hisaki didn’t say anything more.
She placed the clothes neatly by the door, with the slippers positioned right in front…
These were size 35. Her final guess at the closest size…
Then she turned and walked away from the Bathroom door.
She didn’t go back to the Living Room.
She went to the Master Bedroom.
The door to the Master Bedroom was slightly ajar. She pushed it open, stepped inside, and closed it behind her.
The room was large, but the lighting was dim.
The curtains were drawn tight. Only a small spotlight in the corner emitted a warm orange glow against the wall.
That wall was covered in photos of Shiro.
Of course, they were all of Shiro in various poses under the Bridge Underpass.
Every photo was taken from the bridge above, carrying a slight sense of distance from looking down, but the lens’s focal length was long enough to capture every detail in crisp clarity.
Hisaki stopped in front of one of them.
That was the first photo she ever took. An evening a month ago, the moment she first saw that White Fur Ball under the Bridge Underpass.
Her hands were shaking when she pressed the shutter then.
Even now, looking at it, her heart still raced.
As for whether Shiro would discover this wall?
Hisaki glanced back at the door.
Unless she forcibly brought Shiro in here…
Of course, she wouldn’t do that for now…
Otherwise, she couldn’t think of any reason Shiro would willingly walk into her Master Bedroom.
Of course, if Shiro really did walk in.
Would this wall be a “surprise”?
Hisaki smiled but didn’t continue that thought.
***
Meanwhile, the Bathroom door opened a crack.
Rina poked half her head out first, her silver-white wet hair plastered to both sides of her cheeks, her sky-blue eyes scanning the hallway warily.
Nobody there.
She opened the door a little wider, confirmed that the Kidnapper wasn’t indeed lurking behind the door waiting to ambush her, and only then quickly bent down to scoop up the stack of clothes and the towel by the door.
The whole sequence took three seconds, about as fast as grabbing the basket earlier.
The door locked again.
She leaned against the door panel and unfolded the clothes in her arms to inspect them.
The first thing that caught her eye was the bath towel printed with the frog prince, green, with the frog’s round bulging eyes staring back at her, its expression utterly stupid.
“…What awful taste.”
Rina muttered in disgust, but her hands didn’t stop. She shook the towel open and started drying herself.
Midway through drying, she picked up the underwear and inspected it.
Pure cotton.
White.
She stretched the waistband with her fingers.
This size.
Rina’s brow furrowed slightly.
Then came the flesh-toned camisole.
She held it up to her eyes and compared it against her body.
It fits.
Very well, actually.
Last came the white silk nightgown.
Rina shook it open, slipped it over her head, and the soft cotton slid down along her body.
The strap length was just right, and the neckline wasn’t too revealing, but it certainly wasn’t conservative either.
The hem fell just below her knees, precise enough that it looked like she had gone to the store and tried it on herself.
Rina saw herself in the Bathroom mirror.
Her washed silver-white hair was still dripping, and the steam had flushed her pale skin with a thin layer of pink.
The white of the nightgown almost blended with her hair. Only at the neckline did the edge of the camisole and the skin above her collarbone, unaccustomed to seeing light, peek out.
She stared at herself in the mirror for a long while.
These clothes, the underwear, the camisole, the nightgown, every single one was her size.
Sizes she herself had only relearned after shrinking in this life.
Rina took a deep breath.
“So this was premeditated…”
She narrowed her eyes at her reflection.
“Or has this Kidnapper kidnapped other girls before?”
The second possibility was, of course, more plausible than the first…
But given everything Hisaki had done so far, Rina inexplicably felt the first possibility was more likely.
She opened the Bathroom door and walked out barefoot.
A pair of small slippers sat on the floor outside the door.
Her size.
Rina looked down at the slippers, then down at her neatly dressed self, and was silent for two seconds.
Then she stepped into the slippers and headed for the Living Room.
The feel under her feet told her these slippers were brand new, never worn by anyone.
The Master Bedroom door opened at that moment.
Hisaki stepped out, changed into loungewear, her black hair loosely draped over her shoulders.
The moment she saw Rina, she stopped in her tracks.
Her dark crimson pupils lit up as if ignited.
From Hisaki’s angle, Rina at this moment was practically a walking dessert.
Her freshly washed silver-white hair carried the sheen of lingering moisture, half-wet and half-dry, scattered across her shoulders and back, with a few stray strands clinging to her forehead and the nape of her neck.
Her skin was the pale white cultivated from long hours in the dark Bridge Underpass, now steamed into a shallow pink by the hot water, spreading from her collarbone all the way to her earlobes.
The neckline of that white silk nightgown hung lazily on her shoulders, revealing a generous expanse of collarbone and the edge of the camisole, with two thin straps accentuating the girl’s slender shoulder line.
Below the nightgown were two straight, slender calves, her ankle bones slightly protruding, nestled in those size thirty-seven pale blue slippers.
Hisaki looked her over from top to bottom, then from bottom to top.
Clean, wearing clothes she had personally picked out, standing in her Living Room… Shiro.
Those sky-blue eyes were glaring at her with dissatisfaction, lips pressed into a thin line, the expression on her face screaming “What are you looking at?”
But what Hisaki saw wasn’t resistance.
She saw that pale, slender neck, elongated by the angle of looking up.
A clean neck with nothing covering it, skin so thin she could almost see the faint traces of veins beneath.
The curve of her collarbone peeked in and out of sight beneath the nightgown’s neckline.
And the edge of the camisole, wrapping a small body far more delicate, far more pitiable than she had ever imagined.
She wanted to take a bite.
Teeth sinking into skin, tongue tasting the warmth and flavor of flesh, then leaving a mark only she would know.
Hisaki swallowed.
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