Day One of Living Together. But...
Practically speaking, it was day one of living together. And yet…
"Hwaaah…"
Cecilia flopped face-first onto the bed, letting out a sound that was half word, half groan.
Her hood slipped back and her hair spilled free. The two ears that emerged drooped limply, as if speaking for her exhaustion all on their own.
"You did great. Let's rest a bit until lunch."
I set down the paper bags I'd been carrying and spoke lightly. A thin little "Mm…" drifted back to me.
Leaving her as she was, I reached into one of the bags and began pulling things out one by one, the paper rustling softly.
"Toothbrush, comb, spare towels…"
Spare tops and pants, and a bottle of moisturizer I probably wouldn't use much myself. Everyday necessities we'd picked up on the way home after buying her underwear — most of them things Cecilia would need.
Of course, even while shopping for these, neither of us had been able to let our guard down thanks to the crowds. That was probably a big part of why the catgirl currently face-planted on the bed looked so thoroughly worn out.
"This goes in the bathroom. This in the dresser. This in the fridge. And last…"
Once everything else was out, what remained at the bottom was, naturally, the underwear we'd bought first. With a distinctly unfamiliar feeling, I took the pieces out one by one and set them on the table. I was about to tidy up the paper bag when I noticed something still tucked all the way at the back.
I pulled it out and checked. It was a thick sheet of paper printed with what looked like instructional text. In one corner, the word Lulus was printed alongside a logo; in another, a sticky note was attached like a little letter.
This may be unsolicited, but I've enclosed this in the hope that it might be of some help.
"…Care instructions, washing methods, how to wear your purchased undergarments, and other precautions, huh…"
They were thorough to a fault.
I flipped it over and found a detailed illustrated guide on how to put on a bra. The drawings were a bit more explicit than strictly necessary, but they would definitely be useful.
"Cecilia, can you come here a second?"
"Mm…?"
When I called her, she began to wriggle without lifting her face from the bed. Her limp, trailing tail and faintly twitching ears came into view. After a moment, she pushed herself up and came over to me.
"…What is it?"
"Want to try these on? This set, and this one. The wearing instructions are right here."
I handed her a set of underwear along with the illustrated guide we'd been given. The moment she took the clothes — and then the diagram — her face went bright red.
"O-okay. Just a second. Uh…"
"Over there. Go into the bathroom and put them on."
I told the flustered girl where to go, and she nodded and headed for the bathroom.
Click. The door shut. Alone in the living room, I let my thoughts wander for a moment.
"Clothes, huh…"
Only after everything had settled and we'd actually gotten the supplies did the reality of it start creeping in.
Living together. Sharing a life. Just me and that catgirl. …In this one-room apartment.
"We'll have to schedule shower times… And for changing clothes, hmm, maybe I should hang a curtain in the corner…?"
There was a lot to figure out. How to hide the existence of a beastkin from the neighbors. Or, more fundamentally — whether we even needed to hide the fact that I was living with a girl at all.
Sleeping arrangements were another issue. Last night and the night before, I'd just toughened it out on the floor, but that couldn't go on forever. Buy an extra single bed, or just get a mattress and lay it out… Neither option was realistic. Space was the problem.
And then…
…The inevitable physical contact that came with living together. How were we supposed to handle that?
"Mixing up shower times, or running into each other while changing in a hurry… Ugh, saying it out loud makes it sound so…"
It was dizzying. In more ways than one. Things I'd only vaguely imagined were now settling into the realm of very real possibilities, and that alone was enough to make my head spin.
The decision to live together had been half impulsive. I didn't regret it. There was no way I could regret choosing to protect a kid in that kind of situation. But regret aside — I couldn't exactly claim that a man and a woman sharing a space would be free of complications…
"…Mm……"
"I-I'm done."
The door clicked open again, and Cecilia stepped out.
At a glance, she didn't look all that different. Just a slightly more defined silhouette, a face flushed scarlet, and ears drooping hard enough to notice. …She was so thoroughly embarrassed that even I started feeling my face heat up.
"…H-how does it feel? Comfortable?"
"A little… tight, maybe."
She mumbled her answer while carefully avoiding my eyes. For my part, I kept glancing at the places where the new underwear sat under her clothes… and looking away… and glancing again.
"…"
"…"
It was awkward.
I forced myself to break through the stifling atmosphere and open my mouth.
"…Let's eat first."
Even if my voice came out barely louder than a squeak.
I stood up and finished putting away the paper bags, setting the things we'd bought in their proper places, then picked up the groceries I'd left on the table.
"Just so you know ahead of time."
"Hm?"
"It might not taste as good as last time. I'm cooking it myself."
I gave the big daikon radish we'd bought earlier a thorough rinse under the water. Washed my hands, pulled out the cutting board. Took out a knife.
"Hmm. How did that radish soup recipe go again…"
It was simple enough that I wasn't really worried about failing — and even if I did, at least it'd be healthier than instant food. With that thought, I started prepping the radish at a leisurely pace.
"…Can I watch?"
"Hm? Oh — yeah, of course."
Cecilia had suddenly come up beside me, and I answered even as I startled a little. Feeling her steady gaze on me, I went on cooking in silence.
"Thanks for the meal."
"Th-thanks for the meal."
When lunch was over, two voices rang out through the room.
I cleared the dishes and carried the bowls over. I was about to turn on the sink when Cecilia edged up beside me and spoke first.
"I'll do it."
"Oh — you sure?"
"Yeah."
I stepped aside for her as she nodded.
Looking a little tense, Cecilia took up the sponge and a bowl and began washing carefully. Contrary to my mild worry, she did a pretty good job. I'd only given her a quick lesson once, but she picked things up fast.
"…Done."
A short while later, the dishes were finished. Our lunch had been so simple and modest that there hadn't been much to wash in the first place.
She wiped her hands and turned to face me. Sensing another stretch of awkward silence coming on, I spoke up first.
"Was it good?"
"Hm?"
"The food I made. Not that you could really call it cooking."
"…Yeah."
A rare, quiet smile touched the corners of her mouth as she answered in a soft voice.
"…It was good."
"Yeah? Glad to hear it."
It really wasn't anything special, but I was glad she'd liked it. The feeling left me a little bashful.
"Want something to drink, Cecilia? I've got juice, tea, all sorts of things."
"Ah — then, um, the one from last night…"
"Okay. …But no alcohol this time. Drinking first thing in the morning two days in a row is a bit…"
Day drinking wasn't great for her health, and it didn't sit well with my conscience either. As far as I remembered, the difference between the version with soju and the one without hadn't been that dramatic, so plain orange juice would probably taste fine enough on its own.
I poured some into a cup and held it out to her.
"Here."
"Thank you."
Cecilia took the cup. She sipped at it, then made a happy little face.
"…Mm♪"
It was a good expression. Good enough that I found myself thinking I should stock up on more juice just for that look alone.
"Ah, right. Cecilia — here."
"Hm?"
Something else occurred to me, and I pulled it out and offered it to her. A book. The one she'd been reading yesterday — A Collection of Short Stories to Stir Your Emotions.
"Ah, this…"
"You seemed to like it. Figured it'd be better to keep it somewhere close instead of stuck up high on the shelf."
I said it while looking at Cecilia, who stood a full head shorter than me. Reaching the spot where that book had been shelved wouldn't be impossible at her height, but it would be a struggle. And trying to refile it lower down was out of the question — the lower shelves were already packed solid with other books.
"Th-thank you…"
"It's nothing. If anything bothers you while you're staying here, just tell me. We're living together now — we should adjust to each other."
At my words, Cecilia nodded while sipping her juice. I could see the faintest flush color her cheeks.
Once she'd finished the juice, she set the cup in the sink and walked a little quickly over to the bed, sat down, and opened the book. She looked ready to dive straight into reading.
"Alright. Then I'll…"
Maybe I'd read a novel of my own. I was reaching toward the bookshelf with that thought when—
Ding-dong—
The doorbell rang.
"Is anyone home—?"
A middle-aged man's voice followed right after.
"…Who's that?"
"Eunhyuk, do you know him?"
"No, I don't. None of my friends are middle-aged guys, and neither my seniors nor my boss sound like that."
Wondering if it might be some kind of salesman, I peered through the peephole. What I saw was…
"I'd just like a word with you, if you have a moment. Is anyone there?"
…A police officer, dressed neatly in a crisp blue uniform.