How I Take Care of Her -4-
After sleeping in, afternoon had arrived at the Young Lady's mansion. From the serene quiet of her room came the sound of someone's vigorous grunts.
"Hngh!" A resounding grunt, pouring every ounce of strength in her body into it. Maybe because lunch was late, the Young Lady's powerful grunts felt even stronger than usual.
"Hnggggh... hngh!" Maybe people really do need to exercise to live properly. With that realization dawning on me, I sat on the bed, smiling as I watched the Young Lady work out.
"Come on! Just a little more effort!"
"Hngh!" The Young Lady furrowed her brow, focusing intently on her exercise. I'd never seen her so passionate about it before—was it because she was excited for the trip? I couldn't help but admire her determined effort.
"Hngh... We said we'd decide where to go after you wake up from your nap!"
"We'll decide during your bath."
"First I've heard of it..."
"That's fine. I just heard it for the first time too."
"Hngh..."
"Alright! Let's channel this momentum into one more set."
It wasn't anything elaborate. No weightlifting or Pilates—just pressing her soles flat against the floor and tensing her body. A core-strengthening exercise, perhaps. Seeing steady improvement in the Young Lady's legs, I had her doing these to awaken her unused muscles. Even if her legs healed, it wouldn't matter if the rest of her body couldn't keep up.
Until now, the Young Lady had kept exercise at arm's length. She loved chocolate and lounging around more than anything in the world. Honestly, she'd put on a bit of weight lately... her cheeks were rounder than usual. The muscles needed for walking had atrophied from disuse, and with her aversion to exercise, her condition was heading straight for disaster. At this rate, she'd collapse from deconditioning before her legs even healed. Hoping for a better future, I cheered her on.
"You got this!"
"Hngh! Hah... I can't..."
"You can do it."
If Rehabilitation Touch could instantly heal her body and legs, there'd be no need for exercise—but unfortunately, it wasn't a miracle cure. The Young Lady had to put in the work for things like muscle strength and mental fortitude. Long out of practice, she stared at her soles pressed to the floor, brow furrowed.
"Hngh! How's that, Ricardo? Did it move just now?! It felt like I stood up for 0.1 seconds!"
"Oh...! Yeah, definitely."
I clapped, letting out an exclamation of admiration as I eyed her legs, utterly motionless. All carrot, no stick, and people burn out fast. Lifting her head at my praise, the Young Lady broke into a beaming smile.
"I'm doing great, right?"
"Yeah~"
"Super great, right?!"
"Of course. You're doing amazing."
I wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead with a handkerchief, showering more praise on her earnest efforts. Even with no visible progress to sap her will, she showed no signs of disappointment. Admirable. Both the exercising Young Lady and Gomtang, snoring away on the floor amid the noise, were equally impressive.
Her grunts continued to echo.
*
Having survived that brush with death via exercise, the Young Lady lay sprawled on the bed, chest heaving.
"Hah... hah... Ricardo, I lived so hard today. Doesn't that mean the long-bearded grandpa you mentioned will give me a present?"
Demanding a gift from Santa for "living hard." As I bustled about preparing her bath, pulling fresh clothes from the wardrobe, I let out a soft chuckle.
"That grandpa doesn't give presents for living hard."
"Then...?"
"You have to do good deeds."
"He's so picky."
"Can't have him running a losing business. Plus, he only works seasonally in winter."
"Then I'll be good just in winter. Being good every day sounds exhausting."
"Then your presents would get smaller."
If Santa heard her mercenary plan to be good only in winter for the loot, he'd clutch his neck and keel over. True to her wicked lady roots, her ruthless profit-chasing was something else. Hearing about Santa's bottom line, she neatly gave up on presents and flopped back on the bed to recover.
"Hngh... Whatever!"
For some, this exercise would be a breeze; for her, it was a brutal marathon—especially after years of inactivity. She looked so cool giving her all. I'd planned to reward her with the chocolate hidden in my inner pocket, but...
A strange sound reached my ear, stopping my hand midway. Crunch.
A clear chewing noise right by my ear. Crunch—the exact sound that shouldn't be happening right now. I turned to see the Young Lady lying on the bed, hollow-eyed as she pulled chocolate after chocolate from her treasure pouch. I stared in bewilderment. Just how bottomless was that pouch? Watching the endless supply emerge, I let out a hollow laugh.
"Munch munch, if I don't eat, my blood sugar'll drop and I'll die."
What a peculiar wicked lady. Carefully setting the chocolate on the bedside table, I took her hand to wash her sweat-soaked body.
"Time for your bath."
"Ughhh..."
She dragged along without resistance, clutching the bedsheets to protest leaving its comfort—but the butler's will, with dinners to prepare, wouldn't bend. Absolutely not because I was excited for bath time or anything perverted like that.
Dragging her along, she shook her head petulantly.
"Can't move. If I do now, I'll die."
"It's fine. I'll be the one moving."
"...Oh."
Nodding sagely at my wise reply, she released her grip, spreading her arms toward me with a grunt of "Hgngh!" as if commissioning a peaceful journey.
"Then carry me."
"I'll serve you well."
"You can serve me roughly."
"Then let's walk briskly today."
"Mhm."
Step.
Step.
"Heehee... mint chocolate bath bomb."
"That good, huh?"
"Yeah."
With her clutching the bath bomb for the tub, grinning innocently behind me, I paused in thought. Not heavy thoughts—just reflecting on everything I'd done for her so far. Was I doing a good job? I pondered with a faint smile for a full minute.
Nursing was harder than I'd imagined. Taking care of myself was tough enough; someone else's health was even trickier. I'd endure my own discomforts, but hers felt like everything hurt to touch. So much to protect: her pride as a woman, her recovery as a patient. If I took the easy way, she'd suffer. Diapers might convenience me, but they'd crush her dignity. Her cooperation made it work, but my methods weren't always perfect—every day required caution. Thank goodness she overlooked my slip-ups.
-Hngh...! Don't wanna move!
-It's okay. It hurt less than yesterday when I picked you up. I'll forgive you.
Bothersome, exhausting, tedious as it was... if it made her smile, I could handle it. Not like I was a real medic anyway; couldn't do anything grand.
Arriving at the bathroom, her excited cheer snapped me from my reverie.
"Ooooh...! Bath time!"
"You had one yesterday. That exciting?"
"Yeah. Baths make you feel younger. Your body goes all loooosey... so relaxed."
Her voice brimming with excitement, she waved the bath bomb at me like "Look look!" I smiled, opening the bathroom door and gently setting her on the floor.
Shhhh.
As water filled the tub, she rested her chin on its edge, slipping into her shower gown alone and eyeing the dissolving bath bomb. Sniffing deeply at the tangy-sweet scent rising in fluffy bubbles, she hummed a tune. I couldn't fathom the appeal, especially mint chocolate, but her smile was infectious.
If only it weren't mint chocolate. Fully gowned, she tied the sash tight and murmured over the humming bathroom: "Put me in the tub." Smiling softly, I scooped her up.
"Ricardo, you're so strong!"
"I know."
"Arms all firm and stuff."
"Ahem~"
"Veins popping too."
"Ahem~!"
Praise really does make whales dance, huh.
*
Darkness had fallen in Darbarb's study.
"..."
Finishing a meeting, Olivia's father Darbarb sat absorbing the shadows. Gazing seriously at his eldest son Kyle, he asked,
"I want to take a bath together after so long."
Kyle replied with equal seriousness.
"No."
Darbarb missed his daughter today as well.