The House Overlooking the Han River
When the door opened, the first thing that entered was the scent of an unfamiliar home.
The Saintess stopped at the threshold.
A faint warmth lingered on the floor, and soft lighting glowed deeper in the living room. A single cup sat on the dining table, and the sofa was neatly arranged. There was a bookshelf, but few decorations. A few paintings hung on the walls, yet no family photographs.
The lights were on.
Only one cup had been set out, and the sofa cushions lay without a single one out of place. Neither on the bookshelf nor on the table was there any trace of another person's touch.
The Hero slipped off his shoes and stepped inside first.
"Come in, Ria."
At those words, the Saintess carefully set her foot across the threshold.
Ria.
The moment she was called by her name rather than Saintess, that voice reached her before the warmth of the unfamiliar floor.
Still standing in the entryway, the Saintess lifted her head.
Beyond the living room, a large window came into view.
Outside, the evening Han River stretched wide. The sky was darkening between blue and gray, and the city's lights spread long across the water.
Without realizing it, the Saintess walked toward the window.
"Wow……"
A small exclamation slipped free.
She had heard the name Han River before.
A great river that cut through Earth's capital. She had even seen it in photographs from the Management Bureau's educational materials. The Han River in those photos had been flat, but the river beyond the glass held the city's lights long within it.
The city was too bright, and the river too wide.
The Saintess stood close to the window, and the river light spread long across her face.
It was a landscape utterly different from the world she had left only yesterday. No birds cutting through the sky, no cathedral steeples, no shadow of a goddess statue. Instead there were endless building lights, the flow of cars, and the river quietly crossing between them.
"Is this…… your home, Hero?"
"Yeah. And now it's your home too."
At those words, the Saintess's hand fell from the windowsill.
The Hero set his backpack down beside the sofa and placed the document envelope from the Management Bureau on the table.
He had spoken casually, yet to the Saintess that single phrase landed heavily.
Your home.
She called the words once more inside herself.
A little strength entered her fingertips.
The Hero walked to the kitchen and poured a glass of water.
"Drink some water first. You were tense a lot today."
The Saintess took the cup with both hands.
"A little."
"Not just a little."
He smiled gently.
The Saintess smiled, still wrapping her hands around the cup.
"Actually…… a lot."
"Makes sense."
The Hero tried to say it casually, but the end of his voice dipped a little lower.
The Saintess held the cup.
His fingertips briefly left the rim.
More than the name written on the documents, that hand was closer now.
"It still feels a little like a dream."
"Same for me."
The Hero's reply was low.
When the Saintess looked back at him, his hand rubbed the edge of the cup once, then moved toward the document envelope on the table.
"It's still strange that you're here."
The Saintess's fingers tightened around the cup.
"I like it."
The Hero looked at her.
She spoke a little more quietly.
"Being here."
His lips parted, then quietly closed.
A moment later he nodded.
"Then today I'll show you the necessities first."
"Yes."
"Wash up and come out. You must be exhausted."
Only then did the tension that had locked her shoulders and calves all day come flooding in. The clothes provided by the Management Bureau were clean, yet they carried an unfamiliar scent, and the city's dust and strain still clung thinly to her skin.
The Hero guided her to the bathroom.
There was no wooden tub, no furnace to heat water.
Pure white tiles, a glass partition, metal fixtures fixed to the walls. Rather than a large basin to hold water, a device that poured water directly over the body hung in the center of the bathroom.
"This is the shower."
The Hero pointed to the metal handle on the wall.
"Turn it just a little this way and water comes out."
He moved the handle only a fraction to demonstrate.
"It can get hot, so go slowly. If you get startled, call me right away."
The Saintess's fingertips slowly followed the direction of the handle.
"Slowly."
"Yeah. If the water's too strong, back this way."
"Yes."
She pointed once with her fingertips to the positions of the handle and buttons.
She thought she understood, yet even one handle felt foreign to the senses of this world.
"Can you try it alone?"
the Hero asked.
The Saintess looked at the fixtures and nodded.
"Yes. I'll try."
"You can lock the door."
He spoke once more from the doorway.
"If anything happens, call me. I'll be right outside."
At those words her cheeks flushed a little.
"I understand."
When the Hero closed the door and left, the bathroom suddenly grew quiet.
The Saintess regulated her breathing.
Then she carefully removed the dress she had been given.
Unfamiliar house, unfamiliar bathroom, unfamiliar mirror.
Her reflection still felt awkward. There were no saintess robes, no footsteps of priestesses nearby. After she removed the Management Bureau clothes, her bare body stood as it was between the white tiles and the mirror.
From beyond the door came the low sound of the Hero taking out a towel.
Outside the door was the Hero.
Recalling that fact, the Saintess stood before the shower.
As he had taught her, she turned the handle just a little.
At first nothing happened.
She tilted her head.
"Was it this way……"
The moment she turned it a little more, water sprayed vigorously from the showerhead.
"Ah!"
A stronger stream than expected struck her shoulders and chest directly.
Startled, she stepped back; her foot slipped slightly on the slick floor. She hurriedly tried to grab the handle, but her wet fingertips slid across the metal.
In that interval the water temperature suddenly turned cold.
"Cold……!"
Panicking, she twisted the handle the other way.
This time the water grew too warm.
Not hot enough to burn, yet her body shrank at the sudden change. The stream remained strong, and wet hair clung to her cheeks and neck.
She covered her chest with one hand and groped for the handle with the other.
"Ria?"
The Hero's voice came from outside the door.
"Are you okay?"
"I-I'm fine……!"
She answered, but the end trembled, mixed with the rush of water. The noise broke her words, and the shower continued spraying in a direction she did not want.
His voice outside lowered once.
"Can I come in?"
She tried to answer.
But in that moment her foot slipped again.
"Kya!"
At that short cry the door opened.
The Hero rushed in.
"Ria!"
He immediately reached for the shower.
Water bouncing off the wall, the slippery tiles, her wet feet—all entered his view at once.
He first turned the handle all the way.
The water sound cut off.
A thin mist of vapor spread over the white tiles.
In the middle of it stood the Saintess.
Wet silver hair clung to her shoulders and collarbones. Water droplets ran beneath the arm that hurriedly covered her chest, and the lines of her waist, belly, and pressed-together legs stood clear under the bathroom's white light.
His fingers gripped the handle more deeply once more.
The breath he had drawn caught in his throat.
His gaze was held for an instant.
Over the face of Ria who had waved before the transfer gate, the white light of this room and her wet skin overlapped.
The memory of the child he had wanted to protect stepped back one pace, and a beauty wet with water stood before his eyes.
"……Ria."
The name was carved low.
Only then did he lower his head.
His hand was still touching the shower handle.
"Sorry."
His voice sank low.
"I'll get a towel."
He took a large towel from the shelf right beside him and held it out toward her, offering only the end.
With trembling hands she accepted it and wrapped her body.
The thick cloth covered her chest and belly.
The places he had seen cooled late even under the towel.
Under the cloth covering her chest it was still hot, and moisture remained on the insides of her thighs.
She gripped the end of the towel more tightly.
Only after she had covered herself did the exposed places heat late.
"Are you hurt anywhere?"
The voice was low and careful, the end of the words following a little late.
Hugging the towel, she shook her head.
"No. Just…… the water came out suddenly a lot."
"You must have been startled."
That word was so kind that her eyes moistened again as if she might cry.
"I'm sorry. You explained it to me."
"Nothing to be sorry for. Anyone is startled the first time they use it."
He checked the handle again.
"I explained this too quickly. If you want to try again, I'll tell you slowly from outside."
Still gripping the towel tightly, she lifted her head.
"No. I'll try again."
It was a small voice, yet it did not hide behind the water sound.
Hearing that answer, he took a breath for a moment.
The hand tightly holding the wet towel.
The flushed face.
She stood before him with that face.
He smiled very briefly.
"Okay. Then I'll go out and stay outside the door. This time tell me before you turn on the water."
"Yes."
As he stepped out he said finally,
"Take it slow."
The door closed.
Wrapped in the towel, she stood for a long while.
Her heart was still beating fast.
The breath startled by the water was gradually settling. Yet under the cloth covering her chest it remained hot.
She lightly pressed her face with the back of her hand.
"I need to pull myself together……"
After murmuring the words, she stood before the shower again.
This time she did it slowly.
The water was still unfamiliar, but no longer frightening.
Just the knowledge that he was outside the door made the strange rush of water less cold.
A while later, when the Saintess came out of the bathroom, the Hero was waiting at the end of the hallway with his back turned.
She was wearing his white dress shirt.
It was the clothing he had hurriedly taken out just now.
The shoulder line had slipped to one side, and the long sleeves covered the backs of her hands.
She stood in the hallway tightly fastening the front with both hands.
Every time a water droplet fell from the ends of her wet hair, a small mark spread on the white cloth.
Under that mark the fabric clung thinly to her skin.
The curve of her chest and the still-unsettled pink nipples faintly showed beneath the wet shirt.
Belatedly she gripped the front more tightly, yet the wet cloth stuck between her fingers.
Moisture remained on the thighs revealed under the shirt hem. When her bare legs met the hallway air, her knees pressed together thinly.
The Hero's feet froze at the end of the hallway.
This time his head turned late.
"……Are you okay?"
"Yes."
She carefully sat on the edge of the sofa.
He brought a dry towel and carefully placed it on her shoulders.
"You need to dry your hair. You'll catch a cold."
"A cold?"
"Even on Earth, if you stay wet for long your body cools."
Her hand gripped the shirt front more deeply.
Strength entered her fingertips on the front of his white shirt.
He took a small machine from the storage next to the bathroom.
"This is a hair dryer."
"Does wind come out?"
"Yeah. Warm wind."
He showed the machine on his palm so she would not be startled.
"It's a bit loud. Don't be surprised."
When he pressed the button, a low machine sound and warm wind flowed out.
She slightly hunched her shoulders, yet this time she stayed seated.
He stood behind her.
The low sound of the dryer filled the living room. Warm wind entered between her wet silver hair.
He lifted her hair.
His fingertips lightly stiffened near her wet nape.
The white neck that had been hidden under the wet hair, the shoulder line continuing through the shirt collar, the small tremble of her chest still unsettled under the cloth caught at the edge of his vision.
She also noticed that short stillness.
Because of the dryer sound no words could be heard, yet that brief stillness before the fingertips touched was clear.
"Tell me if it's hot."
"Yes."
The dryer sound, the river light outside the window, the Hero's hand standing behind her—all were firsts.
As the warm wind passed between her silver hair, her stiffened shoulders gradually lowered.
He dried the moisture at the ends of her hair.
Even in the warm wind of the dryer, the scene he had seen in the bathroom did not cool easily.
He swallowed a low breath and carefully lifted only her hair.
She quietly asked,
"Hero."
"Yeah."
"Earlier…… were you very startled?"
The dryer sound briefly receded.
He lowered the wind a little and seemed to choose his answer as he quietly swallowed a breath.
"Yeah."
Her hands clenched on her knees.
"Because you thought I was hurt?"
"That too."
She hesitated a moment, then asked very small,
"Only that?"
The dryer sound stopped.
In the suddenly quiet living room, only the low noise of the city outside the window faintly seeped in.
His lips parted, then closed without sound.
She fiddled with the end of the towel.
This time the answer came later.
He looked down at the turned-off dryer.
"……No."
Her fingertips gripped the towel more tightly.
"It wasn't only that."
She lowered her head.
A single water droplet fell from the end of her wet hair onto the towel.
"I……"
The words caught long in her throat.
"I didn't dislike it."
His fingertips stiffened on the dryer handle.
She gripped the towel end more tightly.
Inside the shirt, the places his gaze had touched earlier heated late again.
"Your gaze, Hero……"
There the words cut off.
A single water droplet fell from the end of her wet hair onto the towel.
Finally unable to lift her head, she whispered low,
"……I was a little happy."
His lips closed.
The dryer cord he had been holding loosely unraveled.
Thud.
The black cord end touched the floor.
Her shoulders hunched thinly. Strength entered the fingers gripping the towel end.
Looking down at the dryer cord, he swallowed a breath.
"Ria."
The name barely came out, yet the words after caught in his throat.
After a short stillness he bent and picked up the cord.
"Let's eat something."
The voice was low as usual, but the end was a little dry.
She lifted her head.
"Something to eat?"
"Yeah. Just ramen or frozen rice or something."
His hand winding the dryer cord moved late.
While he wound the cord, she did not let go of the shirt front.
"Yes."
A moment later he stood from his seat.
He went toward the kitchen, then suddenly looked back.
"And Ria."
"Yes?"
"This is your home now. You can ask about anything you don't know. It's okay to make mistakes too."
She listened to those words for a long time.
Home.
It was the second time she had heard that word today.
With her wet hair wrapped in the towel, she stood before the window.
From the kitchen a pot clattered.
She released the strength in the hand gripping the white shirt front.
That night, the city's lights swayed long over the Han River.
The river light outside the window spread thinly across the living room floor.
In the wide, empty house, for the first time the breathing of two people remained together.
