The dizziness had gone from “a little” to “very serious.”
With every heartbeat, a deeper wave of vertigo washed over her, as if someone had stirred the hot spring water into a whirlpool. The surface swayed and rippled before her eyes.
She opened her eyes and found the light of the stone lantern had become a blur of orange-yellow. The moon had split into two overlapping silver-white spots.
The outline of the pine tree twisted and warped at the edges of her vision, like looking through a pane of glass fogged by steam from hot water.
Something was wrong.
Rinna pinched her thigh underwater.
The pain was dulled by the hot water, but it was still there.
She used that sting to force herself awake for a moment, then found the realization buried deep in her muddled mind.
How long had she been soaking in the hot spring?
She didn’t know.
She hadn’t looked at any timer since she got in.
But judging by how weak her calves felt, it had been at least ten minutes.
No, maybe longer.
She remembered Hisaki saying, “Rinna can’t soak too long, or it’ll have a reverse effect.” She remembered those words clearly.
But once she got into the hot spring, she completely forgot about it.
She was too busy enjoying the comfort of the hot water, the warmth of Hisaki holding her from behind, and… the fluster that exploded in her mind when Hisaki cupped her chest.
Too nervous.
She was so nervous that she completely forgot about the “can’t soak too long” rule.
Rinna scolded herself inwardly.
‘How long had it been since she transmigrated? Her body’s constitution was 3—walk a few steps and she’d be out of breath, stand too long and she’d get dizzy, and a light tug on her wrist would leave a red mark.’
‘How could she have forgotten that?’
‘How could she, because Hisaki washed her back and hair, because the hot spring water warmed her to the bone, because Hisaki held her in her arms and said, “It hasn’t grown at all,” forget that even staying alive in this body required precise calculations?’
‘The pills with every meal, the pace of every step, the water temperature and duration of every bath.’
‘Those were all the boundaries she had tested with her life, and today she had simply thrown them away.’
Rinna reached out and grabbed the edge of the pool.
The rough texture of the stone came through her palm, and she used the strength of that hand to push herself up.
Hot spring water slid down her collarbone, taking away the last trace of warmth from her skin.
She grabbed the bath towel wrapped around her chest with her other hand. After being soaked, the towel had become heavy, several times heavier than when dry, sagging wetly downward. If she didn’t hold it, it could slip off at any moment.
She pressed the edge of the towel between her collarbones, her fingers gripping so hard that her knuckles turned white.
When she stood up, her vision went black for an instant.
The moonlight, the stone lantern light, the pine tree, Hisaki—all vanished, as if someone had slapped a switch and turned off the lights.
Her knee buckled, and her kneecap hit the stone edge of the pool with a dull thud. It took over a second for the pain to travel from her kneecap to her brain.
She bit the inside of her lip, pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, and forced herself to stay conscious.
The darkness in front of her wavered, then cracked open from the center in several lines. Moonlight and stone lantern light seeped back in, blurry outlines slowly coalescing into clear edges.
She could hear her own heartbeat—fast, loud, like someone was beating a small drum right next to her ear.
“Rinna!”
Hisaki’s voice came from beside her, carrying something Rinna rarely heard: panic.
Hisaki’s voice was usually steady, like a straight, flat line without much fluctuation.
But now that line had snapped, broken into several pieces.
Before Rinna could turn her head, a pair of hands reached out from beside her, firmly supporting her shoulders and arms.
The palms were hot, hotter than the hot spring water, pressing against her cooling skin like two hand warmers just taken out.
Hisaki had stood up at some point. Her bath towel was dripping water, her black hair slid down from her shoulders, sticking to her cheeks. Water droplets fell from the tip of her chin, splashing into the pool, raising tiny, tiny ripples.
“Rinna! Rinna!”
Hisaki said it twice. The first was higher than the second, and the second was lower than the first, as if she was forcing the panic down, pressing it to a controllable level.
Her fingers tightened, gripping Rinna’s shoulders, her thumbs pressing against the outside of her collarbone, the remaining four fingers wrapping around the position of her shoulder blades.
The force was just enough to stabilize Rinna’s swaying body, but precisely controlled within a range that wouldn’t hurt Rinna.
Her dark brown eyes shone especially brightly in the light of the stone lantern. Not a soft brightness, but the kind that suddenly contracted after being pierced by something.
The corners of her eyes tilted up slightly, her brow furrowed into a deep knot, and her lips were pressed into a very thin line.
Water droplets dripped from her forehead hair, sliding over her eyebrows, over the corners of her eyes, like sweat.
“I’m sorry, Rinna! I’m sorry! I…”
She stopped.
Her voice got stuck in her throat. Her lips moved as if searching for more accurate words, but all those words piled up in her mouth, and not a single one could be chosen.
Her hands tightened gently on Rinna’s shoulders, then loosened, then tightened again, as if unsure how much strength to use—afraid that too much force would hurt Rinna, and afraid that too little wouldn’t steady her body.
Rinna looked up and met Hisaki’s gaze.
Hisaki’s complexion looked much paler than usual under the moonlight, and the color had faded from her lips.
The ripples spreading across the water surface were reflected in her eyes, making her beautiful dark pupils look restless, as if soaked in water and swaying.
Rinna had known Hisaki for so long, but she rarely saw Hisaki wear this expression. Not sadness, not anger—it was guilt.
The kind of guilt that said, “I tell myself every day that I can’t make this mistake, and today I actually made it.”
Rinna curled the corners of her mouth and smiled.
She raised one hand and touched the back of it to Hisaki’s hand that was supporting her shoulder. Her fingertips were cool.
“It’s not Xiao Xiao’s fault.”
Her voice was muffled, with a slightly softened nasal tone from the steam. The ending dropped a little, as if she was sighing, or coaxing someone.
“I’m the idiot. I was enjoying the soak too much and forgot to watch the time.”
Hisaki looked at her.
Her lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but Rinna’s smile choked her throat. She knew Rinna was lying.
‘How could Rinna forget?’
‘Rinna remembered every single thing about her body—taking her medicine at precise times down to the minute, always stopping to catch her breath after walking two hundred meters, never exceeding her body’s limits even by half a step.’
‘Rinna usually took very good care of herself, so well it was heartbreaking.’
But she didn’t call her out.
“Don’t say anything yet. Get out quickly! I’ll help you… slowly, one step, two steps…”
Hisaki took a deep breath, temporarily swallowed all the guilt, self-blame, and lingering fear into her stomach, and her voice instantly switched back to that reliable and meticulous Hisaki.