How I Nursed Her -3- Gazing at the Falling Star with the Young Lady
Under the dawn sky, the Young Lady and I watched a shooting star streak by.
"Heehee..."
Perhaps because it was the historic day when the seed of hope had finally sprouted, the Young Lady wore a pleased smile she didn't bother hiding, her lips curving up soundlessly.
"Heeheehee..."
Lying in bed and gazing at me, she kept on giggling. Her eyes, heavy with expectation for praise, met mine, and I returned a small smile.
"Why are you staring at me like that?"
"Heehee... Just 'cause."
The Young Lady snorted through her nose, waiting for the answer she wanted. As I pretended not to know and turned my head away, she stared even harder and let out another puff of breath.
"Heehee... Ricardo, aren't I amazing?"
Her voice dripped with smugness as she posed the question. Facing her utterly honest expression, I smiled faintly and nodded.
"Yes, you are."
"How amazing?"
"As amazing as the sky is vast and the earth is wide."
"Ooooh! As vast as the sky and as wide as the earth!"
The Young Lady smirked, muttering under her breath, 'I know that already...'. Her unapologetically honest reactions never failed to make me smile, no matter how many times I saw them.
A warm current mingled with tender emotions in the Young Lady's room, where a cold breeze blew in. What others might dismiss as trivial was, to us, like a homework assignment with no end in sight—no deadline, seemingly endless.
I couldn't think of the right metaphor, but it felt like a miracle, akin to getting a hint for a question we'd stalled on for two years.
"Heehee..."
The elation wouldn't fade easily. Every time she'd emerge from the bathroom, peeking at me with embarrassment—that shyness was now trapped in a bubble of pride, showing no sign of bursting.
"Heeheehee... I'm amazing."
As she patted her own head, I watched with a small smile and said, "Aren't you grinning like a total villain? Someone might mistake you for a customs officer who's just pulled off a smuggling bust."
"Can't help it—it's that big a deal."
"Fair enough."
I liked her straightforward answer. Her blunt words, unmarred by shyness, lifted the pressure off me. Conversations with someone who responded so honestly to anything were always a pleasure.
Rubbing my tired eyes, I glanced out the window. The sky still cloaked in darkness showed that morning was far off. One thing was certain: if I slept now, I'd oversleep for sure.
To declare—legally—that we'd skip breakfast, I carefully posed a question that might get the answer I wanted.
"Yawwwn... How about we sleep in tomorrow? I mean, today?"
"Hmm... Yeah."
Deep in thought, the Young Lady blinked her darting eyes and furrowed her brow. Her bright, eager gaze suggested she had energy to spare. She had a knack for sniffing out any attempt to slack off—she was hypersensitive to schedules.
"Lack of sleep is bad for your skin, you know."
"My skin's fine."
She grabbed my hand and rubbed her cheek against it, as if to say, Feel it yourself. I nodded.
"True enough."
As expected from the world's most beautiful woman in this world, the Young Lady had no flaws in her appearance. Her inner qualities needed work, but maybe that was the universe's way of balancing things.
I plotted once more to legally play hooky from my duties.
Hmm...
No good ideas came to mind. As a butler, if my mistress wanted something, I had to follow.
I could only wait for a positive response from her.
Turning toward me, the Young Lady stared intently and cautiously opened her mouth.
"Ricardo, you sleepy?"
"Pardon?"
"You're yawning a lot and look tired."
"Must be the dawn. Even if I look like this, my growth plates haven't closed—I'm still a kid."
"Your dreams are too big, Ricardo. You're older than me."
"Stop with the old-man jabs."
"Heehee..."
The Young Lady had zero tact, as always. After rubbing her cheek on my hand for a good while, she started fiddling with my fingers, stretching my palm and digits like they were fascinating toys. She stared at me like a cat about to swat with a fluffy paw, then suddenly stopped.
"Why are you staring like that?"
"..."
"Young Lady?"
Suddenly, she opened her mouth wide.
Aaaah... Nom!
"Eek! Why'd you bite me?!"
She slowly parted her lips and chomped down on my hand, not letting go. I shook my hand to pry her off, but with just enough pressure not to hurt, she held firm.
"Mmmph... Nom!"
The more I shook, the more her head dangled like a puppet. Puffing her cheeks with air and slobbering saliva, she looked delighted, laugh lines crinkling around her eyes.
After my hand was thoroughly soaked, the satisfied Young Lady smiled, released me, and beamed with a refreshed expression.
"Haaah...!"
She wiped her drool-smeared mouth with her sleeve and thrust her thumb up triumphantly.
"Ricardo, you taste bad!"
"What the—?!"
"It's an insult."
"...?"
"I thought you'd taste sweet 'cause your hair's red, but you're salty."
"Isn't it weird if a person tastes sweet?"
"Heehee... True."
A commoner's dull brain couldn't fully grasp her logic. Still grinning happily, she wiped the saliva off my hand with her clothes.
In the old days, she'd have told me to clean it myself, so her newfound consideration for her butler moved me deeply.
Gently touching the teeth marks on my palm, she murmured, "...Ricardo."
She swallowed as she felt the calluses.
"..."
She exhaled, eyeing the faint scars on my fingers.
After stroking them silently for a long moment, she spoke in a whisper soft enough not to wake birds at night.
"...Does it still hurt?"
"Pardon?"
"Your hand. Doesn't it hurt anymore?"
"If you're asking about the bite..."
Unbuttoning her sleeve, she said quietly, "Not that... this."
Her eyes filled with the scars that had once made her cry—marks from the past.
Fresh from my Rehabilitation Touch, her forearm still bore scattered black blotches—not a pretty sight. They'd fade with time, but it took about a day.
With distant eyes, she examined the scars and asked worriedly, "It still hurts a lot, doesn't it?"
Without hesitation, I answered honestly: it didn't hurt anymore.
"No, it doesn't."
"Liar. It still looks so painful..."
Her lips pouted in distress. I stroked her head and smiled.
"No, really—it doesn't hurt at all now."
"How could it, with such devoted nursing from you? It'd be weirder if it still did."
Stroking her head as she gloomily traced the wound, I replied in a gentle voice.
"In fact, it's so painless now I'd have to fake it to complain."
Ugly scars to show off, but with a beauty worrying over them, it was a net gain.
Hearing my answer, she pouted and grumbled, "You're such an idiot, Ricardo. You don't take care of yourself."
"Who takes better care of themselves than me? I even make medicinal tonics on the sly."
"Those taste awful, so I'm fine skipping them."
"I was gonna make you take them too, but failed."
"Heehee... I hate nasty stuff."
Her smiling eyes lingered on my hand, unwilling to leave. I couldn't pinpoint the emotion—probably guilt. Somehow, she knew how those scars came to be.
The concern was a bit burdensome, but it also filled me with a fluffy warmth. I hadn't done it expecting hero worship.
Feeling shy, I made a face like I didn't know how to handle her worry and silently accepted her gentle touch.
She repeated her earlier words.
"Don't get hurt."
"..."
"If you hurt, I hurt too."
"..."
"You know how much it hurt me last time you were in pain...?"
"I'm sorry."
She gripped my hand tight and bowed her head. Maybe embarrassed by her own words, she wouldn't look up, filling me with warmth.
"If it hurts, say it hurts."
She stuck out her pinky for a pinky swear. Normally she'd never sign such a pact easily, but I chuckled and stamped the scam contract.
"Got it."
"No more lies like last time."
"I'll try."
"Eeeek..."
"...Promise."
She wasn't one to be easily fooled. Yawning as I watched the dawning sun brighten the sky, I said, "So, Young Lady, can we sleep in today?"
"Ugh..."
"Skip breakfast too."
"Ughhh..."
"Butler's sick."
Buttoning my sleeve, I smiled faintly.
"You promised."
Unable to respond to skipping breakfast, she looked glum at the word "promise" and nodded reluctantly.
"Yeah. Fine."
The Young Lady really was a good person at heart. Carefully rising from the chair to head back to my room, I said, "How about a trip this Thursday?"
At "trip," she lifted her sullen head slowly and looked at me.
"A trip?"
"Yes."
"Where to...?"
Excited for our first outing in ages. I hoped she wouldn't expect too much.
Smiling lightly, I told her, "Anywhere. We'll decide slowly once we're up."
The thrilled Young Lady looked like sleep was out of the question.