Just past 7:30 in the morning, Rinna opened her eyes.
Her eyelids were heavy, as heavy as if two tiny weights were hanging from her lashes.
She blinked several times before the ceiling in her vision slowly coalesced from a blur of white light into the familiar washi paper hanging lamp.
Her lower abdomen was still very uncomfortable.
The pain spread outward from her uterus, crawled along her lumbar spine all the way to her lower back, then followed her iliac bones around to the front, wrapping her entire pelvic cavity in a heavy, dull ache.
Her head was still dizzy.
The dizziness from spending too long in the hot spring last night hadn’t completely faded, and her period had added fluctuations to her baseline blood pressure.
The two factors combined made her feel like the ceiling was swaying half a beat behind even when she turned her head.
Rinna raised her hand and pressed the back of it against her forehead.
It wasn’t hot, no fever, but the thin layer of cold sweat hadn’t stopped since last midnight. Her palm was damp and cold, and pressing it against her forehead only made it colder.
She let out an extremely faint groan. When the sound squeezed out of her throat, even she felt it sounded like a cat that had its tail stepped on.
It came once every month.
Rinna turned this thought over in her mind, then added internally, ‘No, given the state of this body, her menstrual cycle was completely irregular. Sometimes it came every two months, sometimes twice in one month—there was no pattern at all.’
‘The anemia from Physique 3 combined with qi and blood deficiency made her period not just “those few days each month” but “a torture that could descend without warning.”‘
‘At this rate, I’m going to be doomed!’
Rinna shouted this internally, but said nothing out loud because she didn’t even have the strength to shout.
The only thing she could move right now was probably her brain, and even that was being beaten in turn by dizziness and drowsiness.
Having mentally prepared herself a little, Rinna slowly lifted her head from the pillow and scanned the room.
Hisaki’s fifteen-tatami room was especially quiet in the morning light.
The desk lamp on the low table was still on—probably Hisaki had turned it on again when she got up this morning. The warm yellow circle of light cast a soft ring on the dark wooden tabletop.
Someone was there.
Next to the low table, two school bags were leaning against each other—the canvas bag on the left, the leather bag on the right, like two elementary school students sitting side by side.
But there was only her on the bed.
Hisaki wasn’t in the room.
Rinna’s gaze swept around the room, confirming every corner: no one in front of the low table, no one in front of the wardrobe, no one at the door.
The entire room was quiet, leaving only the sound of her own shallow breathing and the occasional faint chirping of birds from the courtyard outside.
‘Did she go to school?’
When this thought popped into Rinna’s mind, she almost laughed at herself.
‘No, no.’
‘From what I know of Hisaki, how could she leave me alone and go to school?’
Hisaki was the kind of person who would take leave from work if Rinna had a cold and stay home to look after her, who would take three days off if Rinna got her period and never leave her side, who would be so anxious from Rinna just tripping in the hallway that she’d put non-slip mats all over the school corridors.
Hisaki couldn’t possibly go to school.
‘She probably just stepped out for a bit… to get breakfast, to get medicine, to get something I need.’
Hisaki never stayed away for too long. Each time she left, it never exceeded the time that would make Rinna start to feel lonely.
Rinna struggled to prop herself up and leaned against the headboard.
Her head rested on the soft pillow, her white hair scattered across her shoulders.
After sleeping all night, her hair was a bit messy, with a few strands sticking up, glistening with a silvery-white luster in the morning light.
Her complexion was a little better than yesterday—just a little. Her lips were still pale, but there was at least a hint of color in her cheeks.
Her eyes fell on the bedside table.
The bedside table was made of dark wood, from the same series as the low table.
On the tabletop stood a transparent glass with half a glass of water left. The water was perfectly still, without a single ripple.
Next to the glass was her canvas bag—dark gray, with the strap hanging over the edge, a short section dangling down. The zipper wasn’t fully closed, revealing a corner of the bottles and jars inside.
Rinna reached out and grabbed it.
When her arm came out from under the covers, the sleeve of her pure white nightgown slid down to her elbow, and the pale blue veins on her slender forearm were faintly visible.
Her hands were small, with distinct knuckles. Her fingertips were still cool in the June morning because of her cold constitution.
The canvas bag was very light in her lap, so light that Rinna could clearly feel the outline of the medicine bottles inside.
She pulled the zipper open and took a look inside.
Blood supplement oral liquid, multivitamin tablets, heart care tablets, calming medicine, stomach-nourishing tablets… not a single one missing, all neatly packed at the bottom of the bag.
The bundle of small brown glass bottles tied with a rubber band was missing two vials, and the indentations the rubber band left on the bottles were deeper than before.
‘I haven’t eaten yet.’
Rinna’s hand paused on the cap of the blood supplement oral liquid, then withdrew.
Taking medicine on an empty stomach was bad for your health—she knew that better than anyone.
Her stomach was already… with Physique 3, the spleen and stomach function couldn’t be much better… if she swallowed these pills on an empty stomach, she’d probably start feeling nauseous in less than half an hour.
‘I’ll leave the medicine for now.’
Rinna placed the canvas bag back on the bedside table, then pulled out her phone from the side pocket of the bag.
The phone screen lit up.
The lock screen was one Hisaki had set for her—a photo from last winter of the two of them huddled together on the sofa under the same blanket.
White-haired Rinna and black-haired Hisaki leaned together, Rinna’s face buried in her scarf with only half her face showing, Hisaki’s chin resting on top of Rinna’s head, her eyes curving into a slight arc.
The time in the upper right corner: 7:39.
Rinna stared at the numbers for two seconds, then put the phone down beside her pillow.
The screen dimmed and went black again.
She closed her eyes and sank her head deeper into the soft pillow.
Her lower abdomen twitched again.
She placed her palm over her lower abdomen, the coolness of her palm mixing with the pain in her belly, unable to tell which was more uncomfortable.
Then the door opened.
The sound of the sliding door gliding along its track was especially clear in the quiet room.
It wasn’t the sound of a forceful push, but Hisaki’s characteristic careful push, the wooden lattice rolling along the track at just the right speed, making no harsh noise that might disturb anyone.
Rinna opened her eyes.
It was Hisaki who came in.
Hisaki wasn’t wearing her school uniform.
She wore a very thin black long-sleeved T-shirt, the fabric soft, the sleeves narrow and tight around her wrists, outlining the clear and sharp lines of her slender arms.
The collar was neither high nor low, just enough to reveal the upper part of her collarbone and the skin at the base of her neck.
On the bottom, she wore a pair of form-fitting dark blue jeans, the seams straight, the lines from her thighs to her ankles smooth and lean.
There was a slight fading at the seat of the jeans—not an intentional distressed look, but natural fading from many washes, indicating that these jeans made up a significant portion of Hisaki’s daily wear.
Her black hair wasn’t left down as usual, but tied into a low ponytail with a dark gray hair tie, loosely draped over her right shoulder, with the ends falling at her collarbone.
A few stray strands that weren’t tied up hung down from the sides of her ears, gently swaying as she walked.
Hisaki was carrying a tray with both hands, dark wood, with some weight to it.
The edges of the tray were held steadily in her palms. During the few steps from the door to the bedside, the bowl on the tray didn’t move at all, not even a ripple on the surface of the soup.
On the tray was a bowl of pumpkin porridge.
The porridge had just been taken out of the pot, steam rising from the bowl, drawing thin white lines in the morning light.
The pumpkin was cooked until very soft, mixed with the rice grains into an orange-yellow paste. Floating on the surface were a few finely chopped red dates, the jujube flesh boiled until soft, its color changed from deep red to dark brown.
Next to the porridge was a small dish of pickles—pickled radish, cut into thin fan shapes, neatly arranged in a small white dish. At the edge of the dish was a pair of black lacquered chopsticks.
When Hisaki saw that Rinna was already awake, her pace quickened by a beat.
“Rinna.”
Her voice was soft, but the concern in her tone was heavier than usual.
She gently placed the tray on the bedside table—there was just enough space between the canvas bag and the tray, and Hisaki had obviously calculated the distance when choosing the spot, so the two items occupied their own space without crowding each other.
Then she bent down, her dark brown eyes meeting Rinna’s gaze.
“Do you feel a little better?”
Hisaki’s eyebrows were slightly furrowed, the crease between them a little deeper than last night, probably because she hadn’t slept well from worrying all night.
Her gaze quickly swept across Rinna’s face—forehead, eyes, lips, the color of her cheeks—as if she were using her own self-created visual diagnostic program to quickly assess Rinna’s condition.
“Are you hungry?”
Rinna looked at her, an indescribable feeling surging in her chest.
It was gratitude.
Being cared for so meticulously by someone like this…
“Mmm… I am a little hungry.”
Rinna’s voice was muffled, with a bit of morning hoarseness, the tone dropping at the end but then rising slightly, like she was acting spoiled.
Then Hisaki sat down on the edge of the bed.
The mattress sank by a tiny angle, and Rinna’s body slid a little towards Hisaki.
Hisaki picked up the bowl of pumpkin porridge.
She held the bowl in her hands and gently stirred it twice with a spoon.
The consistency of the pumpkin porridge was just right—not too thin and not too thick when the spoon scooped it up.
The rice grains and pumpkin puree were completely blended, each spoonful evenly coated with the orange-yellow porridge.
She brought a spoonful to her mouth and blew on it a few times.
The force of her blowing was precisely Hisaki-style—just enough to let the steam dissipate from the spoon, just enough to lower the surface temperature of the porridge from “scalding” to “warm,” but not blowing so long that it got cold.
She blew three times, then brought the spoon to Rinna’s lips.
“Here, eat slowly.”
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