The Black Bunny (1)
I was sitting in the annex parlor sipping tea when the sound of the door opening made me look up.
Roseline stood in the doorway, looking at me.
Bandages were wrapped around her ankle and hands—she apparently hadn't fully healed yet.
Roseline walked to the center of the parlor. She didn't take a seat; before I could even offer her tea, she spoke first.
"I heard the exams are over."
"Mm."
"I've come to keep my promise."
I set down my teacup and looked at her.
I hadn't expected her to run away. That wasn't the kind of person Roseline was. If she made a promise, she'd walk into it herself, no matter how much she hated it.
"I was wondering if I'd have to send for you."
"I have no intention of breaking a promise merely because I wish to avoid something."
"That's Roseline for you."
Roseline's gaze went straight to the box on the table. Her face said she'd already noticed. She wasn't going to believe there were ordinary clothes in there, not for a second.
"Let's confirm the terms."
I rested a hand on the lid of the box.
"The exam is over, and you agreed to wear whatever clothes I chose. And for every question you got wrong, you agreed to answer a question of mine."
"I'm aware."
"Good. So how many did you get wrong?"
"...Three."
"Then that's three questions, isn't it?"
Roseline's face stiffened almost imperceptibly.
"...Understood."
Wearing the expression of someone looking at an insect, I opened the box.
Arranged neatly on the black leather at the bottom were a choker, brown stockings, cuffs, and a pair of rabbit ears.
The moment Roseline looked inside the box, she lost her words.
Her frozen face began, bit by bit, to turn red. Whether it was fury or shame, there was no need to sort out which.
"You're... asking me to wear this? Now?"
"Yep."
"You're out of your mind."
"Is that a compliment?"
"It's an insult."
Isabel chimed in from the side.
"I share the same opinion."
"Even you, Isabel?"
"On this matter, I have no choice but to side with Lady Beloa."
"Not a single ally in the whole world."
Roseline couldn't tear her eyes from the box. Her fingertips had gone rigid, her lips pressed into a hard line.
I didn't rush her. I simply waited.
It was better to let Roseline make the choice herself. Watching her walk in on her own was far prettier than dragging her along.
After a moment, Roseline picked up the box.
"Where am I to change."
"The room next door."
"Do not come in."
"I haven't said a word."
"Whatever you're thinking is written all over your face."
Roseline answered coldly and disappeared into the next room, and silence settled over the parlor.
From beyond the door came the sound of fabric brushing against skin. The box opening. A brief sigh, and then the rustle of cloth again.
I rested my chin on the armrest and stared at the door.
What kind of face did Roseline have right now?
She'd be unbuttoning her usual modest blouse one button at a time, cursing me under her breath—do I really have to wear this?—over and over. Her shirt slipping off her shoulders, her skirt stepping off and draped over a chair, glancing back down at the black cloth in the box, and maybe squeezing her eyes shut for a moment.
Just imagining the moment my chosen clothes touched that body made the corners of my mouth curl up on their own. The choker closing around her throat, pulling an unfamiliar fabric up her body, reaching for the stockings and bracing a hand against the wall to keep from toppling over. Her face would surely be flushed scarlet—with loathing, with embarrassment, and still enduring it to the very end on nothing but sheer stubbornness, because a promise was a promise.
Isabel gave me a look of profound pity.
"My lady."
"What."
"Please manage your expression."
"I can't."
"Then at least try."
"I'm trying as hard as I possibly can."
"It shows not at all."
Just then, a voice came from beyond the door.
"...Serena."
I straightened up at once.
"Um."
"Yes?"
"I don't know how to put it on."
Oh my.
I hadn't even dreamed of an event like this. A wave of delight swept through me, and I couldn't stop my lips from curving upward.
"Ahem. Well, it can't be helped."
I rose from my seat.
"I suppose I'll have to help you myself."
The moment I took a single step toward the door, Roseline's voice cut through, sharp as a blade.
"Send Isabel in instead."
"I'm the one who picked the clothes?"
"Which is precisely why you can't."
"Roseline. A noble lady has asked for help—if I turned my back on her, that would be terribly rude."
"Do not come in."
"Oh dear. Too late. Here I come."
The instant my hand touched the doorknob, something whipped around my wrist from behind.
"...Huh? Isabel?"
Following the fabric coiled around my wrist upward, I found Isabel binding my hands with a ribbon she'd apparently prepared in advance. It was an ordinary ribbon, but the knot was surprisingly secure.
Of course, I could break free if I actually tried.
But then Isabel would let out one of her genuinely weary sighs.
That would be a hassle, so perhaps I'd play along a little.
"My lady. From here on, I will handle it."
"Why?"
"The fact that you even have to ask means you've forfeited the right."
"I can help too, you know."
"There is a high probability you would compromise Lady Beloa's mental stability."
"And if that's the whole point?"
"Which is why you may not enter."
I looked down at my bound wrists.
"Isabel. Whose side are you on?"
"The side of common sense."
"This is betrayal."
"Yes. Today of all days, I will gladly betray you."
Isabel seated me back in my chair.
I held up my tied hands for her to see.
"You're so mean."
"The cruel one here is you, my lady."
Isabel stood at the door and knocked lightly.
"Lady Beloa. May I come in?"
"...Please."
Roseline had asked Isabel.
While she would never, ever use that gentle a voice with me.
I could feel my eyes opening to some very strange tastes of hers...
"Isabel."
"Remain still, my lady."
"I haven't said anything yet."
"You were about to, so I cut you off in advance."
Isabel opened the door and slipped inside.
The door closed.
I sat in my chair, staring at it.
Faint conversation drifted out from within.
"The rabbit ears go on last."
"And this string goes where...?"
"Over the back of your neck and fasten it there."
"Why would anyone design it this way."
"That is a question I would like to ask your ladyship as well."
"Ngh, wait, not there—"
"I apologize... but the coverage is rather minimal..."
Ah, this is genuinely dangerous. The sour feeling in my stomach—I was getting the wrong kind of worked up.
"R-Roseline...?"
The answer came back immediately from inside.
"Do not speak to me."
"Haah, hearing your voice just makes me want to see you more."
"My lady."
This time it was Isabel's voice.
"Kindly remain silent."
"You're both being so cold to me."
For a while, there was nothing but the rustle of fabric and short, clipped breaths.
The wait wasn't actually long at all, yet strangely it felt endless.
Thinking about what expression Roseline must be wearing in front of the mirror made my fingertips tingle. I hadn't known it could be this frustrating, not being able to reach out and touch her myself.
Isabel opened the door first and emerged.
"Can you untie me now?"
"Not yet."
"Why."
"Lady Beloa is steeling herself."
"Then I want to watch even more."
"Which is why, not yet."
"Isabel, you are truly too much."
"It's called common sense."
I looked down at my bound wrists, but she wasn't letting me go no matter what.
Footsteps sounded from inside the door.
Slow, careful footsteps.
And then Roseline stepped out.
The black bunny girl outfit suited her far better than I'd imagined.
A black choker wrapped around her throat. The brown stockings made the lines of her legs all the more defined, and the black rabbit ears stood straight up, at odds with Roseline's expression.
Roseline had one arm clutched across her body, gripping her other arm as if to shield herself.
Her face was flushed, her lips set hard with suppressed fury—but her eyes were fixed on me.
Good. This was very, very good.
"Is this sufficient?"
Roseline's voice was low, and I answered a beat behind.
"Yeah."
"Was this what you wanted?"
"Yeah."
As I took my time looking her over, her face grew redder still.
"Even better than I expected."
"Ugh. You're the worst."
"I've been hearing that a lot today."
"You could hear it a hundred times more and it wouldn't be enough."
"A shame it's me who ended up tied up."
"My lady."
Isabel cut in immediately.
"It was a joke."
"It did not sound like one."
Roseline glanced at my bound wrists and paused for just a moment.
"...You were tied up?"
"Yep. Isabel betrayed me."
"Well done."
"Even you, Roseline?"
"Naturally."
I let out a small laugh.
Well, look at that. An unexpected alliance.
Apparently embarrassed to have said it, Roseline quickly turned her head away. But the tips of her ears had gone red.
"Turn around."
"I refuse."
"The promise."
"The promise was to wear the clothes, not to be ogled."
"You put them on, so I get to look. Otherwise the terms are awfully lopsided in your favor, don't you think?"
"You are utterly shameless."
Roseline clenched her jaw and stood there for a long moment—then finally, agonizingly slowly, turned her body around.
The black fabric caught the light as it moved. The rabbit ears swayed, and her gloved hands gripped her arm hard enough to leave marks.
Roseline turned back to face me.
"Are you satisfied now?"
"Not yet."
"What could you possibly want me to do next."
"The questions."
Roseline's face went rigid.
"You're doing it now?"
"Yep."
"Like this?"
"Yep."
"You really are—"
Roseline swallowed the rest.
I raised my bound hands and lifted a single finger.
"All right, then. First question."
The sudden seriousness on my face made Roseline respond with visible tension.
"Ask."
"How many times a day do you touch yourself?"
"...I beg your pardon?"