I can't just sit here and do nothing while waiting for Eris, so I decide to wash my own hair first. The shampoo and conditioner are the sa as yesterday, their familiar scent calming and relaxing as I work the lather into my hair. The warm water cascades down my back, easing the tension I hadn't even realized I was holding.
But…
Sothing is missing.
Having soone else wash my hair just felt nicer.
Yeah, I guess that's true.
For so reason, I already miss the sensation of Eris' fingers running through my hair. I miss her touch, the way she firmly held down my ears, keeping them still even when they twitched from the ticklish sensation. It was both soothing and fun in a way I hadn't expected.
Thinking back on yesterday, a small smile creeps onto my lips.
After all, there was a mont tonight when I genuinely believed I wouldn't return to this room again—would never get to take another bath here, never continue this strange new isekai adventure. For a fleeting instant, I thought my life might end right there.
Ah… how precious it is, just to be alive.
It's strange, isn't it? How sothing so simple can feel like a miracle when you co so close to losing it.
So, regardless of whatever secrets Eris holds, or whatever she plans to tell next, I know one thing for certain—I need to thank her first.
I want to let her know how grateful I am.
Just as I'm lost in these thoughts, the sound of the bathroom door opening suddenly pulls from my reverie.
"Eris!!!" I blurt out, startled by my own outburst. I don't even know why I shout her na like that. And for so reason, my heart skips a beat when I see her step inside.
Her talk with Gordon must have ended sooner than I expected. I thought it would take longer, but I'm just relieved she's here now.
"Hey, sorry for the wait," Eris says as she steps into the room. Her eyes flick to my wet hair, and she tilts her head slightly. "Oh, you already finished washing your hair?"
There's sothing soft in her gaze as she undresses, her movents unhurried. Her body, so familiar now after our bath together yesterday, doesn't shock the way it did before—but my heart still races a little.
"Y-yeah…" I answer, my voice faltering slightly.
Even though I really wanted Eris to wash my hair again—and I can already feel the urge for her magic fingers massaging my scalp—I've already done it myself.
"You sit down. I'll wash your hair and scrub your back too!" I stand up and gesture toward the chair, eager to return the care she gave last night.
Eris narrows her eyes slightly, then sighs, looking almost disappointed.
"Aww… that's too bad," she murmurs. "I was looking forward to washing your hair, you know…"
Wait… she actually enjoys washing my hair?
Oi…
Isn't that… perfect?!
"A-actually!!!" I stamr, "I haven't applied the conditioner yet!"
"A-and I think my ears still need a little help!" I add quickly, my voice betraying my flustered state.
"Oh, that's lovely!" Eris beams at , her smile brightening the room.
She walks toward , taking my hand and gently guiding back into the chair.
But as she runs her fingers through my hair…
"Hmmm? It feels like it's already conditioned…" she murmurs, a teasing lilt to her voice.
Oh no!
She caught !
I freeze, panicked. What do I say now?
"A-aahh… I—I just wanted to see if I could make it even smoother by adding more conditioner!" I blurt out, grasping at anything to explain myself.
Eris chuckles softly. "That's… a nice idea," she says with a smile. "Alright, let's give it a try!"
"Nn!"
With that, she begins again—her touch gentle and caring as she massages the conditioner into my hair, working it thoroughly. The sensation is blissful, and the ticklish feeling in my ears returns as she carefully cleans them. Compared to yesterday, my ears have grown more accustod to her touch, managing to stay still for most of it.
Afterward, Eris scrubs my back, her hands soothing and skilled, moving with the sa gentle confidence as before. The warmth of the water, the rhythmic motion of her hands—it's all so relaxing, so comfortable.
Once she's finished, we swap places. Now it's my turn to wash her hair and scrub her back, just like she did for yesterday. As I lather her soft, silky locks with shampoo, carefully working my fingers through the strands, I realize sothing.
This mont… it feels natural.
A strange kind of fun.
Sohow, in this small, intimate act of care, the weight of everything else—the danger, the bloodshed, the unanswered questions—fades away.
For now, it's just us.
Taking care of each other.
——————————————
Monts later, as we sink into the warm, soothing bathwater, I finally gather the courage to bring up the thought that's been gnawing at ever since we left the room upstairs.
The bodies.
Yeah…
The weight of it presses on my chest like a lead brick.
I turn to Eris, my voice barely above a whisper. "Eris… what about the bodies?"
She ets my gaze with a small, almost amused smile. Her expression is unreadable, her eyes calm—too calm.
"Silly Felicia," she murmurs, her tone light, as if I just asked about the weather. "Is that really what you're worried about?"
I swallow hard, anxiety twisting my stomach into knots. "Y-yeah! What if soone cos looking for them? We didn't hide anything, didn't cover our tracks. What if we get into big trouble?"
Eris tilts her head slightly, her expression not shifting in the slightest. "Trouble for what? We did nothing wrong." Her voice is smooth, deliberate. "It was those bastards who wanted to make us their playthings. They got exactly what was coming to them."
I bite my lip. "But…" My voice wavers. "They're all dead now. There's no one left to tell the truth. If soone investigates and only sees the aftermath… how do we prove what really happened?"
At this, Eris lets out a low chuckle, dark and laced with sothing I can't quite place. "Well," she muses, her lips curling into a smirk, "we could always hire a necromancer."
I blink. "H-huh?"
"Have the dead tell their side of the story," she continues smoothly, tilting her head toward . "The dead don't lie, you know?"
My breath catches.
Wait.
Did she just say—
"Ooooooohh!!!" I gasp, my eyes widening in realization.
How could I forget?!
This isn't Earth. This is a world of sword and magic! Raising the dead to testify in an investigation isn't just so horror movie trope—it's actually possible!
A shiver runs down my spine. The thought of speaking to the dead, of watching them rise, voices empty yet truthful, is both terrifying and… thrilling.
Necromancy, huh?
My brain imdiately latches onto the concept, curiosity flaring to life. Necromancers have always been one of my favorite classes in gas. The idea of controlling the undead, of bending the fabric of life and death… it's fascinating!
And now, to think it's a real, viable magic in this world?
That's freaking amazing!
Maybe I should read more about it. I wonder if the Adventurer's Guild library has any books on the subject. Since we have a good relationship with the Guildmaster, maybe he'll let borrow so for, uh… research purposes?
As I ntally add 'necromancy studies' to my ever-growing list of things to do, Eris casually drops another bombshell.
"That's why I talked with Gordon," she says. "You probably don't know this, but aside from being a chef, he's also a necromancer."
…
"…WHAT?!" I nearly leap out of the water, my voice echoing off the walls. "Chef Gordon is a necromancer?!"
"Yup." Eris nods, completely unfazed by my outburst. "I needed him to investigate those guys. To confirm a few suspicions I had. But…" She pauses, her brows furrowing for the first ti. "If what I think is true… necromancy won't work on them."
My excitent screeches to a halt. "H-huh?" I blink in confusion. "Wait, what do you an? Why not?"
Eris clicks her tongue in irritation. "Tsk. I should've left at least one of them alive to interrogate."
A chill crawls down my spine.
What does she an necromancy won't work? Aren't corpses just… corpses? Why would they be immune? Unless… unless sothing unnatural is at play.
"What are we dealing with?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Eris' expression darkens. "The Crimson Order."
The na alone sends an unexplainable shudder through .
I repeat it slowly, testing the weight of the words. "The… Crimson Order?"
Eris nods, her eyes narrowing. "I had my suspicions at first. But then I saw their symbol—the mark tattooed on one of the guys' necks when he was approaching you. A chalice wrapped in thorns, blood spilling over, forming a sun."
She inhales sharply, her fingers clenching at the rim of the bath. "That's when I snapped."
She clicks her tongue again, frustration evident in her every movent. "Just thinking about it again makes my fucking blood boil."
I gulp.
This… this doesn't sound like so random gang or group of thugs.
No, this feels bigger. Darker.
The way Eris' hands tighten into fists, the way her jaw clenches—there's hatred in her voice. This isn't just a passing grudge.
The Crimson Order…
Who are they?
What did they do to her?
Suddenly—
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
My heart starts pounding faster.
Sothing stirs in .
Not fear.
Not dread.
Excitent.
A grin almost escapes my lips.
Wait.
Wait, wait, wait.
Why am I feeling this way?
Why does the very ntion of this group make sothing inside … buzz?
Shit.
This isn't normal.
Once again, my emotions make no sense at all.
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