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.
A trickle of drool.
In the end, Hisaki held back.
She just stood there in the living room, watching this little sweet treat fresh out of the bath still steaming with warmth, something dangerous churning in those dark crimson pupils.
Then she took a deep breath and forcibly suppressed the urge.
She turned and walked into the kitchen.
Rina was busy giving Hisaki a silent protest with her eyes when she suddenly saw this woman turn and walk away without a word, her eyebrows instantly knitting together.
“Huh?”
Rina clicked her tongue, tossed her wet hair back, and decided not to bother with this kidnapper for now.
Blow-dry the hair.
The hair was the priority.
She went to the bathroom, pulled out a hair dryer from the drawer under the sink, plugged it in, and studied her current reflection in the mirror.
A clean white fur ball wearing a white silk nightgown.
So cute. As expected of me.
She nodded at herself in the mirror, fully affirming her own looks, then turned on the hair dryer.
Hot air blasted out of the outlet.
She caught a whiff of something.
It was faint, mixed in with the hot air current of the hair dryer, brushing past the tip of her nose.
Her hand paused.
She wrinkled her nose, flipped the hair dryer over, and inspected the outlet.
No rust.
She shook the hair dryer, then brought it closer to sniff.
The smell was gone.
“What the heck…”
Rina muttered, suspecting it was her imagination, or maybe the hair dryer had been sitting too long and dust had gotten inside.
She pointed the outlet downward and blew it at the hem of her nightgown a few times. The hot air rushed into the dress, the hem puffing up and falling back down.
She swung the hair dryer behind her, covered the outlet with her hair, and let the hot air pour down the back of her neck, drying her back and shoulders.
Then the hem of the nightgown.
She spread her legs slightly and aimed the dryer at the bottom of her skirt. The hot air climbed up her inner thighs, carrying away the lingering moisture from her bath little by little.
The skin on her inner thighs was thin to begin with, and after being blown by the hot air, it flushed slightly pink.
Once that area was thoroughly dry, Rina let out a satisfied breath, aimed the hair dryer back at her hair, and started blow-drying for real.
Silver-white strands danced in the hot air…
And at that moment, in the kitchen.
Hisaki stood in front of the refrigerator and opened the fridge door.
The interior light shone on her face, making those dark crimson pupils glow brighter than usual.
Inside the fridge, dozens of glass bottles were neatly lined up.
The bottles were dark-colored, impossible to see what was inside, but the sealing caps were uniformly bright red, looking somewhat like the packaging of a premium beverage.
Apart from these bottles, there was nothing else in the fridge.
No vegetables, no fruit, no milk, no eggs.
Only these bottles.
Row after row, layer after layer, like medicine supplies in a pharmacy.
Hisaki reached in and took out one bottle, twisting off the cap.
A rich, sweet, metallic scent drifted out from the bottle mouth.
She didn’t hesitate, tilting her head back and taking a gulp.
The liquid slid down her throat, leaving a faint metallic aftertaste at the root of her tongue.
Then she set the bottle down, walked to the kitchen doorway, and glanced toward the living room.
The hair dryer was still humming, Shiro’s silhouette flickering in and out of view at the bathroom entrance, silver-white hair scattering in the hot air.
Hisaki leaned against the kitchen door frame and took another sip.
That surging urge to bite down finally began to subside after the liquid flowed past her throat.
In its place came a sense of satisfaction, warm and heavy, like she’d just finished a full meal.
She looked down at the bottle in her hand. The liquid swayed at the bottom, deep red, thick, shimmering with a faint dark gleam under the light.
Red wine.
If anyone saw it, that’s probably what they’d think.
Hisaki finished the first bottle, set the empty aside, and took out a second one.
There were still dozens left in the fridge.
Enough to last her for a while.
She finished the second bottle too, then stood in the kitchen, waiting for the fullness to fully settle, waiting for the last trace of the “bite down” urge in her mind to go quiet.
Okay.
She let out a breath, screwed the caps back on both empty bottles, and put them back in the fridge to prevent the smell from spreading.
Then she closed the fridge door, straightened the collar of her loungewear, put back on that gentle smile, and walked toward the sound of the hair dryer.
She didn’t deliberately soften her footsteps.
Rina was focused on blow-drying her hair.
The hair dryer was at max setting, hot air and noise flooding her ears, shutting out all outside sounds.
She had her head down, left hand lifting a lock of hair, right hand moving the dryer up and down. Silver-white strands puffed up in the hot air, going from wet and plastered down to fluffy and spread out.
Her neck stretched long from the angle of her head, and the nightgown’s strap had slipped down a ways, exposing most of her left shoulder.
Hisaki crouched down behind her.
The distance between them was less than one step.
The hot air blowing through Rina’s hair carried the scent of shampoo and Shiro’s unique scent, sweeping past Hisaki’s face.
Her eyelashes trembled.
This was a scent that no air purifier in the world could reproduce.
She crouched there, not making a sound, not reaching out, just quietly breathing it in.
The hair dryer’s hot air lifted a strand of Rina’s hair, brushing it across Hisaki’s cheek.
“Shiro.”
She spoke.
“Ah——!!”
Rina let out a shriek, springing up like a coiled wire. The hair dryer flew out of her hand, arcing through the air before Hisaki caught it with quick reflexes.
Rina spun around, sky-blue eyes wide as saucers. The nightgown strap had slipped down to her elbow, and she didn’t even bother pulling it up.
“Y-you… when did you get there?!”
Her heart was pounding, like it was about to jump out of her throat.
She hadn’t heard any footsteps at all. Did this woman float over?!
No, walking without a sound is definitely not normal!
Is she a ghost?
Is she a ghost!
“I asked when you got here! Say something!”
Hisaki didn’t answer immediately.
She switched off the hair dryer, the noise abruptly vanishing, plunging the living room back into silence.
Then she looked up at the fur ball that had exploded into a puffy mess in front of her and said with a smile.
“Shiro hasn’t eaten yet, has she?”
Rina’s anger slammed to a halt mid-air.
“What do you want to eat?”
Hisaki asked again…
And at that moment, Rina’s stomach very inopportunely reacted.
Her stomach. That stomach that remembered eating nothing but bland, watery food for eighteen years in her past life.
In that instant, it was completely awakened by the words “What do you want to eat?”
Rina swallowed.
Fried food.
Those four words started flashing through her mind like a repeating marquee.
Fried chicken.
French fries.
Burgers.
Egg tarts.
Chicken legs.
Crispy shells that go “crunch” when you bite into them, oil and carbs mixing in your mouth. The stuff she’d watched others eat in her past life while she could only have porridge.
She had never eaten them.
Not once in eighteen years.
Every time her parents ate outside her hospital room, she could only smell the fried chicken drifting through the crack in the door, then lower her head and eat her bowl of plain porridge with less than a grain of salt.
Her past-life body couldn’t handle those things.
But this life’s body could.
Her stomach shifted again.
This time it wasn’t hunger. It was craving.
Rina took a deep breath, chin lifting slightly, eyes half-lidded, the corner of her mouth carrying a hint of disdain mixed with smugness.
“Hmph~ Since that’s the case…”
“I’ll graciously give you a chance to raise my approval rating.”
She held up her first finger.
“I want McDonald’s french fries.”
Second finger.
“KFC egg tarts.”
Third finger.
“Burger King burger.”
Fourth finger.
“Dicos chicken leg.”
She spread her palm flat, a vengeful glint flickering in her eyes, her tone impossibly arrogant.
“That’s it!”
Hisaki looked at her, silent for two seconds.
The way Shiro was rattling off her order.
Adorable.
So adorable.
Adorable enough that her gums started itching again.
“You know how to eat.”
Hisaki stood up, smoothed her expression, making herself look like just an ordinary person amused by something cute.
“You picked the best item from each place.”
Rina let out a proud snort.
Hisaki looked down at Rina’s stomach.
The nightgown was loose, but from the side, a slight curve could still be seen…
Not a belly, but she was just small, with a small frame and organs packed together, so her stomach naturally stuck out a bit.
“You sure you can finish all that?”
Rina heard this and smiled.
“Isn’t that what the kidnapper is for?”
Her tone carried eleven-tenths of certainty and twelve-tenths of asking-for-a-punch.
“I’ll take a few bites of each, and leave the rest to you…”
She paused, swallowing the second half of that sentence.
“You don’t mind, right?”
Hisaki looked at the white fur ball in front of her, at the pride she couldn’t hide in those eyes, and knew exactly what she was plotting.
Making her eat the leftovers.
Making her eat food that had touched her saliva.
Claiming “I’m above you” in this way.
Hisaki smiled.
These little schemes, these little acts of revenge, in her eyes were all just…
Adorable.
“Sure.”
She said.
“I’ll have a delivery runner buy everything.”
She took out her phone, opened the delivery app, and started placing orders one by one.
Rina stood nearby, sneakily glancing at Hisaki’s phone screen.
She watched this woman genuinely placing orders at each place, McDonald’s french fries, KFC egg tarts, Burger King burger, Dicos chicken leg, each one with precise special instructions.
Rina swallowed.
Not from hunger.
It was the way this woman was seriously placing the order that made her spine feel a little cold.
Knowing her tastes perfectly was one thing, but even the special instructions were this detailed.
Being this kind of person’s “prey”… could she actually get away?
But soon, the mental image of a fried chicken leg occupied her entire brain capacity.
Whatever.
Eat first, think later.
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