Shinryong's Morning Routine
Shinryong's morning routine is not complicated. After sharing tea with me, she moves to the empty room prepared inside the annex. She walks to the center of the vast training hall—its two facing walls completely open—settles into a formal seated posture, closes her eyes, and sweeps her gaze across the forest in one broad pass.
She checks whether any anomalies have arisen within the woods, if the ecosystem has suffered any disruption, or if any major events occurred overnight in the surrounding area that includes the forest itself. First she takes a general overview. Then she forms concrete plans: noting any sectors that might develop problems ahead, observing the day's ecological trends in the forest, determining whether new life has entered the world or an ancient life has begun its final journey. Finally, she divides her domain into eight distinct zones and examines every corner of each one in meticulous detail. That is how she manages the forest.
During the process, if she notices a traveler who has lost their way inside the Great Cavity and fallen prey to fear, she also aids humans by quietly guiding them back to the exit.
How do I know all of this so well? The truth is… it used to be my job. These were the tasks I carried out on my own two feet during my days as a forest spirit, so no one could possibly understand them better than I do.
Yet after enduring many ordeals and becoming Shinryong's servant, nearly all of my power vanished, absorbed into her. At the beginning I insisted there was no need for her to handle it herself, but she told me she had her own methods and asked me to leave the matter in her hands.
Of course, at first I felt as much doubt in her ability as worry for her. After all, the moment she appeared without warning, saved me, and then declared she would manage the forest, it seemed far too much. But from the very first day she surveyed the area in spiritual form, personally crushing anything harmful she found and using the surrounding environment to nurture anything good. Watching her, I realized she was caring for the forest even better than I ever had. The realization left me feeling almost apologetic toward the woods themselves.
That same sense of apology extended to Shinryong, who had taken my duties upon herself. So one day I asked whether managing the forest was difficult for her. She answered me like this.
The moment those words reached me, the anxiety that had weighed so heavily inside my chest bloomed into joy.
The respect for her predecessor, the reverence for her closest servant, flowing from someone as mighty as Shinryong—how could such words fail to fill me with happiness?
Even now I cannot erase the memory of the faint smile she gave me that day, nor the praise that accompanied it. Yes… I suppose that was the exact moment I fell in love.
Once Shinryong finishes overseeing the entire forest in this manner, she descends into the city for a brief walk before returning quickly. She says there is no need to inspect the area with special care, since many other guardian deities, land gods, and shamanic spirits already reside there in great number. I only learned this later from hearsay, so do not imagine that I accompanied her into the city. After all, I am one of those beings who absolutely, utterly, completely despises the city.
"····."
After completing her circuit of the city, Shinryong meditates until her soul returns. When it fully rejoins her, she slowly opens her eyes. She stretches the tail that had been coiled around her waist and left dangling, still seated in perfect posture, and her whole body begins to tremble delicately. Then she rises, extends her arms and legs fully in a luxurious stretch, and approaches the spot where I am working. She pulls a cushion to wherever I happen to be and resumes her meditation.
If I am finishing the hallway mopping, she places her cushion on the already-cleaned floor and gazes outside. If I am tidying a room, she sets the cushion in the corridor just beyond the door and looks out from there. And if I step away briefly to do the shopping, she sometimes slips outside to peer into the pond and play. Those moments are so rare that even I seldom witness them. On days when her loneliness runs especially deep, however, she fails to notice my return. I have occasionally caught her in front of the pond, wagging her tail back and forth in playful chase of the butterflies fluttering there. Even then she barely moves her body, yet the sheer delight conveyed through the motion of her tail… do you understand that feeling? It is unbearably cute. So cute, so lovable, that I want to rush over, rub my face against that tail, and bury myself in its softness.
"Enjoy your meal~!"
"I shall eat well."
Of course I set those daydreams aside. Once the time comes and I finish cooking, Shinryong ends her meditation at the perfect moment and hurries after me into the kitchen to enjoy the food. This is the important part. Shinryong has a special expression she shows only while eating. If the dish I prepared is merely average or poor, she remains completely expressionless, eating with her usual blank, distant face. But when something truly delicious like today's fried rice appears…
She cannot tear her eyes from the food, as though she has fallen in love with it, never once setting her spoon down. And then comes that priceless expression.
With her mouth full, she tries to offer a faint smile but ends up beaming with pure, sunny joy. She even closes her eyes, forming the loveliest eye-smile while her lips curve wide. I can never forget that face. Even after thousands of years, I doubt I ever could.
The reason I studied human cooking so diligently after becoming her servant was entirely for the sake of that expression. I remembered the gentle laugh she sometimes let slip when eating well-ripened fruit, the soft “It is delicious” that followed. I began to wonder: if I fed her something even more delicious, might she grace me with an even more beautiful smile?
In the end I received this breathtaking reward, and now I study even harder so I can earn even lovelier smiles from her in the future.
"Hehe····."
After she finishes eating so happily, Shinryong's afternoon schedule becomes rather irregular. Because she believes the morning that begins the day is most important, she usually spends the afternoon doing whatever her mood and the situation suggest. She generally prefers reading, though sometimes she takes naps. And on the very rare occasions when lunch is exceptionally, extraordinarily delicious and her mood soars, she may even suggest a walk.
Yet our strongest, greatest homebody Shinryong would shake her head before three seconds had even passed, immediately ordering me to forget she had ever uttered those words by mistake. And because I am her beloved subordinate—and an equally hopeless homebody myself—I obediently followed that command.
The reason is simple: going outside is exhausting. Going all the way to the city is even worse. While I can simply hide my tail and pass for an ordinary woman with a flower in her hair, Shinryong must expend enormous stamina to conceal her horns and tail. Therefore it is accurate to say we have both become inevitable hikikomori—homebodies by necessity rather than choice.
What? You say humans also exert that much effort when they leave the house? …How dare you mock me? From now on, anyone who tries to drag me outside will be sentenced to three months of survival in the Great Cavity. Lodging and food will not be provided. These fools are underestimating me.
Srrrk——— Ah, now that I think of it.
"Today is that day… Niyu."
I had nearly forgotten, but this was also one of my primary duties.
"Ah, I almost forgot! Thank you for reminding me, Shinryong~"
In the beginning, when I first forced the matter, Shinryong hated it. But as time passed, she began seeking it out herself.
"Here, sit comfortably as you always do and relax completely…"
It was, of course, tail care.
When our life together had finally begun to stabilize after I first met her and became her servant, I happened to notice her tail in passing. It was an absolute disaster. Shed scales had failed to fall away because of the rough texture and remained tangled between the others. The luster was completely dead; instead of brilliant white it looked like dull gray-brown. The fur at the very tip was so dry and matted that the moment I saw it I could not endure the sight. I snatched up every tool—comb, clips, everything—and chased after her, declaring:
"Shinryong, we're doing tail maintenance right now!"
At first she fled in horror, but I pursued her relentlessly, even seizing her reverse scale, binding her to a chair with ropes, and scrubbing her tail until it shone. During the process she made no sound, only flinching slightly, but afterward her face was so crumpled—perhaps because I had touched her reverse scale—that I could barely speak to her for days. That night she pounded the floor with her tail in fury until she fell asleep, and I seriously wondered whether I had committed a terrible offense. Fortunately, the next morning she woke, saw her now-glossy tail, and thanked me with genuine warmth. She returned to being the gentle Shinryong I knew. Taking that day as my cue, I resolved to continue the care forever. That resolution has continued unbroken until now, to the point where she requests it first.
So when she sits in the chair and lets her tail hang limply, I slowly stroke from her waist, easing the tension so the tail does not stiffen. Then I massage from the root, rubbing along the grain of the scales with both hands in turn. Sometimes the sensation pleases her so much that her whole body shivers and her shoulders curl inward. Once I have the rhythm, I continue the massage all the way to the tip. Next I take a small, soft brush and meticulously clean the tender skin between every scale. After scrubbing from root to tip and removing all the dead skin, I switch to a large, stiff brush and vigorously scour the outer surfaces of the scales.
This stage is the most critical. If I rub too hard the sensitive skin between scales could be scratched, startling her, so I must use exactly the right pressure and speed to clean only the scales themselves. When I scrub with care, the dried dead skin and grime flake away, revealing a pure, beautiful pearl-white luster. Of course the vigorous brushing dulls the gloss slightly, which is why I must follow with polishing lotion. But first I take out another small soft brush and apply generous amounts of softening ointment. In truth it is simply lotion containing healing salve; I apply it before the polish because it absorbs better into the skin. I carefully lift each scale and coat the tender areas beneath. After all, that soft, resilient dragon skin is easily scratched when she moves vigorously, so the ointment is essential.
Once the softening agent has been applied with utmost care, I squeeze a large dollop of gloss lotion into both palms—making a satisfying wet sound—spread it evenly, and massage it in from the root, following the direction of the scales just as I did at the start. When the main tail care is finished, I move to the silver fur at the tip that carries a faint blue tint. I dampen it with lukewarm water and gently wash it with shampoo. If this fur is neglected it becomes tangled and works its way between the scales at the tip, causing her terrible pain; therefore it must be washed thoroughly. I wring out the water, pat it dry with a towel, then gently apply treatment essence. When the entire length becomes perfectly soft and silky, the care is complete.
Every three months I used to open the scales completely and clean the dead skin from the innermost layers as well, but it is exhausting for both of us, so lately we do that only once every six months. For reference, the regular care happens once a week. The inner layers do not accumulate much dead skin if washed regularly, so I focus on maintaining the gloss and color that naturally flake away during daily life, and on checking for any hidden injuries. Lately I have been doing it every four days. Shinryong has grown so fond of it that I suspect we may move to every other day starting next week.
The reason is simple. After receiving this tail care, Shinryong…
"····."
…lowers her head deeply and falls sound asleep.
When she drifts off like this during grooming, I gently lift her, carry her to the bedroom, and lay her on the blanket I prepared earlier. I place a light kiss on her forehead, whisper softly, and leave the room.
"Sleep well…"
In my heart I want to stay close, savoring the sight of her utterly defenseless, breathing softly, for as long as possible and with my entire body. But when she falls asleep after being groomed, I never do that. I cannot. Such deep, peaceful slumber is rare for her except at times like these, so I must allow it. Therefore I make certain she can rest comfortably. If I have unfinished tasks, I attend to them while she sleeps. If not… I pull a cushion to the spot she loves best, sit beneath the moonlight, and simply breathe.
The moonlight is cold, yet soft and warm. It lets me feel, with overwhelming certainty, that the person I love is still breathing beside me. That is why I cherish these nights. Whether I remain awake alone or fall asleep alone… I am with her. The simple fact that we are living and breathing together in this moment is enough.
Of course, deep in my heart there also lives a stubborn desire to do all sorts of wicked, messy things to this completely defenseless Shinryong. But because I love her, I set those thoughts aside for now and think only of her well-being. That, too, must be love.
With that thought I close my eyes toward the moonlight, stretch my uplifted head even higher, draw a deep breath, and slowly release it. Tonight the sky is clear and bright. Shinryong's sky must be equally vast and beautiful. Beneath that sky I remain, stretching my neck only toward the home built for her alone, waiting for her to return and press another kiss upon these lonely lips.