I'm Screwed
“I’m really, really wronged here…”
I glanced back and forth between the collapsed Sua and Daon sheathing Sawol, rolling my eyes sneakily.
I’d definitely meant to warn her.
Taking the leather out of the basket was just to make a sheath so she could carry the shield sword without holding it.
“Yeah, I get it.”
Whether she understood my sincerity or not, Daon flashed a bright smile and strode toward me.
Soon, a huge shadow loomed right in front of me.
“Wh-why…?”
The scent of battle still clung to her, and her shadowed face…
It was a little scary. Really just a tiny bit.
“You promised to do it after this was over.”
“Uh, um. What could that be…?”
I rolled my eyes to avoid her gaze and played dumb.
Truth was, I knew.
I just didn’t want to.
“Time for a bath.”
The next moment, Daon slipped her hands under my armpits and hoisted me up.
Squelch.
It felt like being a radish yanked from the field.
“Eek, eeeek.”
Thud, thud.
Flail, flail.
My struggles echoed uselessly alongside the sound of Daon’s footsteps.
No matter how wildly I thrashed, her stride didn’t waver as she carried me.
‘I’m supposed to be the boss here…’
A wave of gloom hit me, so I went limp and waited quietly.
My lips pouted, shoulders slumped, staring at the floor.
Moments later, we arrived at the bathroom.
Daon shoved me into the shower stall and immediately turned on the water.
“Gyaack…!”
A terrifying roar.
I leaped up, grabbing the shower rail and dangling there.
I’d almost let the water touch my paws.
From experience, that water was freezing cold.
Best to avoid it.
“Get down here!”
But once again, my struggles were pointless.
Daon slung me over her shoulder and dunked my paws into the spray.
I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the icy chill.
“Huh…?”
Wait, what?
It was warm. Totally unlike what I’d expected.
“Not too hot, is it?”
“…No, it’s good.”
I stared up at Daon, mesmerized by the novel, pleasant warmth.
How’d she do that…?
“……Urk!”
Daon met my gaze, let out a sudden pained groan, then slowly poured more water over my paws.
Dirt trickled down into the pooling water.
A bittersweet feeling washed over me.
“Make sure you wash really thoroughly before you come out, okay?”
“Yeah.”
Daon left with a reluctant expression.
I splashed around in the shallow water at my feet a couple times, then flung off my clothes.
“How’d she make it warm…?”
Last time I’d turned it on myself, it was bone-chillingly cold.
I stretched my arms up high to inspect the showerhead mounted above, ears tilted down to keep water out, head craned long.
“Hmm.”
No difference from before.
Long shower hose, faucet.
I tilted my head and fiddled with the obviously-turnable faucet.
Twist, twist.
The water went ice-cold, then scalding hot, over and over.
“……!!!”
Yikes.
I dodged the now-steaming spray and huddled in the corner.
Then it hit me—modern common sense.
“…Oh, right.”
Turning the faucet adjusts the temperature.
Cautiously, from the shower corner, shivering, I reached out and turned the faucet right.
Soon, the steam stopped completely.
“Ugh…”
I’d forgotten something obvious but remembered weird stuff.
No one watching, but I felt embarrassed anyway, so I fiddled with my tail and shoved myself back under the water.
It was already soaked and heavy, but its thick heft comforted me.
‘Gotta keep this a lifelong secret.’
The warm water felt pretty nice.
…Maybe bathing wasn’t so bad.
I lathered up my tail and ears thoroughly with pet shampoo, rinsed clean, then toweled off decently and flung open the bathroom door.
Steam billowed out through the crack.
Neatly folded clothes at my feet.
“Oh.”
My clothes were ruined from forge sparks, and I’d been wondering what to do.
Unlike that someone still passed out on the couch.
So meticulous.
“Hmph.”
I swallowed a sigh and bent to pick them up.
Silky texture trembling in my palm.
“Hmm.”
Pretty nice feel.
I turned back into the bathroom, squeezed my tail as dry as possible, then slipped into the clothes.
Still, water dripped from it.
“Oh, you’re out?”
Daon spotted me while glancing around and hurried over.
Our eyes locked on the living room corner at the same time.
The Dry Room.
A glass box, fully visible inside.
“Shall we try it…?”
I nodded at Daon’s question and stepped over.
Clunk. Door opened, new-appliance smell hit my nose.
I bent and crawled in—it fit me perfectly, like custom-made.
“Closing it?”
Her muffled voice through the glass door. I nodded again.
Then, whiiir.
Red lights on, warm air blowing.
Noisy, but not bad.
My body shivered pleasantly in the warmth.
Nothing to do, so I watched my tail fur whip in the breeze for a while.
—Beep, beeeep.
Lights and air stopped, a small chime.
Pre-set time up, it seemed.
“Whoa…! Gotta leave a review for this!”
Daon gushed in awe at my now-fluffy tail—dried in minutes, not an hour like before—and opened the door.
Stepping out slowly, my fur felt a bit tangled.
—Shake!
I whipped my head and hips, and it was gone.
Body felt lighter. I stretched grandly.
“Definitely worth the money…”
I glanced back at Daon’s quiet mutter.
Worth the money.
That big Dry Room must’ve cost a fortune.
I bolted to the flowerpot by the entrance, dug out the hidden wad of cash, and ran back holding it.
“Here!”
I thrust the bundle at Daon.
Let me say it again—I’m not stingy with repayment.
Twenty in apparent age, way older actually. Keeping quiet after a younger one gifts me? Not adult behavior.
“……Oh, ah! Wow!! Thank you!”
Daon stared blankly for a sec, then clapped with a gasp and thanked me.
“Heh.”
My lips curled up automatically. Very satisfying reaction.
I grinned proudly and headed to the living room couch.
Sua, out cold, oblivious to the world.
‘What’s that word for people like her…’
There was a perfect term for someone exactly like Sua, but it escaped me.
Trash… something.
Anyway, not important. I passed the couch where Sua lay, went to the basket by the isolated shield sword, and pulled out several hides.
To make the sheath I hadn’t finished.
“Hmm.”
I spread them one by one, examining slowly.
I’d never handled leather before.
Only steel as material.
Even to a total newbie like me, these were top-grade at a glance.
Subtle sheen on the surface.
Stretched gently in both hands—soft yet incredibly tough. Definitely premium.
“What kind of leather is this?”
“Oh, that? Winged Bear hide.”
“Hmm…”
Wings and bear.
Odd combo, but the texture was great.
A pang of pity hit me for the mystery beast. I gave a small nod of respect, then stacked several hides and wove them roughly with my fingers.
“Hmm.”
This way, that way.
I focused, braiding the hides on my lap haphazardly.
‘Is this right…?’
The shape grew weirder the more I fiddled, tilting my head, but I shoved the doubt aside.
Who am I?
First time with the material, improvising the process—surely I could pull it off.
After a while.
My hands, fiddling on the carpet by the couch, finally stopped.
“Hm.”
“All done?”
Daon, who’d been peeking at my head, sidled up and asked.
I glanced down at the sheath.
Lumpy, patchy.
Haphazardly tangled hides, patched with mismatched colors to cover mistakes.
“Uh……. Oh, avant-garde!”
Daon tried praising it, but as the maker, I knew.
‘Sorry, Winged Bear…’
It was ruined.