The Sound of the Heart (9)
With Yoon Seo-a’s final words, all conversation in the bathroom ceased. Perhaps for that reason, washing my lower half finished in no time at all.
Once the bath was done, Yoon Seo-a left without so much as a word, striding out and leaving me alone in the empty tub.
“…Maybe I should just finish bathing and go.”
Even if I chased after her, considering how long I’d already been here, it would soon be time to return to my original dormitory, Lily Hall.
I was already exhausted—body and mind—so I wanted nothing more than to fall asleep the moment I got back. Washing up here first didn’t seem like such a bad idea.
Having decided that, I stretched out in the bath the same way she had, letting my body go limp in the water.
I had no intention of lingering. I’d already spent so long submerged while attending to her that staying any longer would only be bad for my skin.
If this were cooking, it would be overcooking. What began as a matter of cleanliness had already gone well past that point.
Of course, part of me wanted to just melt into the water for hours and soothe my frayed nerves, but this wasn’t even my dormitory—and Yoon Seo-a was right nearby. There was no way I could truly relax.
I enjoyed a brief soak, then climbed out and stepped into the shower stall to rinse off properly.
I’d been in the oil-infused water for quite a while, yet the slick residue washed away the moment clean water hit my skin. So this was why people chased after luxury.
With that small note of admiration, I finished showering and stepped out of the bathroom—only to find my school uniform nowhere in sight.
In its place sat a negligee similar to the one Yoon Seo-a had been wearing, along with a plush bathrobe of the sort you’d only see in a high-end hotel.
Without a second’s hesitation I slipped into the bathrobe, towel-dried my hair up into a rough turban, and went out looking for her.
“Yoon Seo-a!”
She was seated on the sofa, teacup in hand. The television was off; she seemed wholly absorbed in savoring her post-bath tea.
Even after I called her name, she kept her eyes closed for a long moment, still tasting the brew. Only then did she slowly open them and look at me.
Her gaze traveled deliberately from my toes all the way up to just below my throat before she spoke.
“I thought you’d choose the bathrobe.”
“What is that negligee even for?! More importantly—where’s my uniform?!”
“I handed it over to the laundry staff, of course. You weren’t seriously planning to wear it again tomorrow without washing it, were you?”
“I was going to send it to laundry once I got back to the dorm! But because you decided to do it yourself without asking, I can’t even go back now!”
Having a bathrobe might seem like enough, but anyone who thought Private Acacia Academy would tolerate a student wandering around like this was sorely mistaken. I’d be hauled in for demerits on the spot and expelled in a straight line from there.
When I raised my voice, trembling, Yoon Seo-a merely offered a gentle smile and patted the seat beside her.
“Don’t get so worked up. Why don’t you come sit and have a cup of tea first? It’s a blend that calms the mind and body and helps with sleep. I rely on it every night—I’d like to share a cup with you as well, Ha-eun.”
“This isn’t the time to be sipping tea…!”
“Ha-eun. A cup of tea after a bath is a matter of the utmost importance.”
Come now, she urged. My shoulders sagged as I trudged over to her.
“By the way, what is that hairstyle, Ha-eun? It hardly suits a young lady.”
“You think I wanted to come out looking like this?”
Ordinarily I would have patted my hair dry with a towel and then spent a leisurely half-hour with a dryer, the way everyone else did.
But right now my uniform—the only clothes I had for the walk back—had vanished. So I’d taken the bare minimum of measures and come straight out to find the culprit.
Now that the immediate crisis was… well, not solved, but at least identified, I sat on the sofa and let my hair down.
Soft strands spilled down my back as I took the towel in hand and began drying my hair the way I always did.
While I worked, Yoon Seo-a set a teacup in front of me.
“It’s chamomile. Try it.”
“…Thank you. I’ll have some.”
Chamomile was familiar enough. It wasn’t expensive; I’d drunk it often even before entering Private Acacia Academy. A tea with a faintly bitter apple-like fragrance.
Yet the moment I tipped the cup, a bright, sweet aroma flooded my senses. This was chamomile? I shot Yoon Seo-a a puzzled look, then tasted it again.
The chamomile I’d known had been little more than warm water with the ghost of a flavor—so faint you could barely name it, close enough to plain hot water that the difference hardly mattered.
The tea she had given me, however, carried a deep, layered taste the instant it touched my tongue. And yet it was still unmistakably chamomile.
Neither heavy nor cloying, it slipped down easily, leaving only a delicate after-scent—true to the character of a light tea.
But my tongue refused to forget what had just passed. I raised the cup again, this time closing my eyes and preparing to savor it properly…
Having made every preparation, I could hold the flavor longer this time.
If I had to rate it, I would call it the devil’s chamomile in disguise. Just as the so-called devil’s drink—cola—imprints itself on you forever after a single sip, I felt certain I would never forget this chamomile either.
Even if I drank ordinary store-bought chamomile again someday, this taste would rise unbidden, and I would be left with an endless thirst.
Remembering the chamomile I drank tonight… well, that would never actually happen. But that was how good it was.
“It’s good, isn’t it?”
“…It is. It’s good. No—it’s extremely good.”
I hated admitting it, but I had no choice. However much I disliked Yoon Seo-a, the tea she served was innocent. And it was too delicious to curse.
At my answer she smiled.
“It’s made from chamomile grown on a farm our family owns. Unlike commercial varieties, it’s been selectively bred to intensify both the fragrance and the effects.”
“I see…”
I wasn’t even surprised. This was Yoon Seo-a’s tea; of course it wouldn’t be ordinary. The real fool was me for hearing the word “chamomile” and imagining something off a supermarket shelf.
I sipped in silence until the cup was empty. Why did happy moments always end so quickly…? A philosophical question was just beginning to form when—
“Shall I pour you another?”
“Really?”
For a single instant even Yoon Seo-a looked like an angel. When I answered with sparkling eyes, she seemed briefly flustered, then spoke with a faintly awkward expression.
“You must like chamomile a great deal.”
“Well… I enjoy it, I suppose, but if I had to pick a favorite tea it would be milk tea rather than chamomile.”
Chamomile was something I drank when my mind was unsettled or when I needed to refresh myself—not primarily for the taste.
I preferred something sweet like milk tea.
And if we weren’t limiting ourselves to tea, I liked cola better than any of them.
Once you start drinking it, body management becomes a nightmare, so I hadn’t touched a drop since the possession. But experience doesn’t simply vanish; the craving still surfaced now and then.
There was a reason they called it the devil’s drink. Even after the life-altering event of swapping bodies, I still couldn’t forget it—that was how it earned the name.
Whenever the craving hit I would steel myself with a cup of chamomile instead… Wait. I watched the pale liquid filling my cup, then turned to look at Yoon Seo-a as she tilted the teapot.
“…Just asking, but did you already know I enjoy chamomile?”
“Money makes most things possible.”
The layered meaning in those words made me press a hand to my forehead.
There was only one place I bought my chamomile: a tiny supermarket a five-minute walk from home. The elderly owner loved tea and had become something of a textbook for me while I was preparing for Private Acacia Academy. A proper young lady was supposed to know her teas, after all.
Well… maybe I could think of it as finally paying tuition for all those free lessons. I stared at the gently rippling surface, then lifted the cup again.
The second cup was still delicious, but it lacked the first’s impact.
Perhaps because my mood had sunk. Strange how the exact same taste could feel so different depending on one’s state of mind.
“So—what is the real reason, Yoon Seo-a?”
“Reason? Whatever do you mean?”
“Stop playing dumb. Because you sent my uniform to laundry, I can’t return to the dormitory. I’ll have to sleep here.”
She laughed as though she found something amusing. I couldn’t tell which part of my words had made her smile.
Even if I knew, I probably wouldn’t understand. I looked at her sitting beside me and continued.
“You said nursing me would only last for today, didn’t you? Why did you hand my uniform over to the staff?”
“It’s true I asked you to nurse me for today only.”
“Then why would you do something like—”
Clink—!
An unpleasant sound rang in my ears. I turned toward it. The teacup had slipped from my hand, struck the saucer, and now lay on its side in a spreading pool of tea.
“Wh-what…?”
The arm that had been holding the cup no longer obeyed me. It hung open and limp at my side, as though it had never gripped anything at all.
What the hell is wrong with my arm?
“Just as you said, I originally intended to send you back the moment the bath attendance was finished.”
While I grunted and struggled to lift my unresponsive arm, Yoon Seo-a spoke in a perfectly even tone.
Her voice sounded as if whatever was happening beside her had nothing to do with her. Only then did I whip my head around and glare at her.
“You—! What did you do to m—”
Before I could finish, my body tilted of its own accord and my face buried itself against her shoulder. More accurately, my entire body collapsed against her.
I could only twitch helplessly. Yoon Seo-a took another leisurely sip of tea and continued.
“But our conversation in the bathroom made me realize something. With the methods I’ve used until now, I will never be able to have you.”
“Ugh… nn…”
“So I’ve decided to take you by force, for now.”
Take me by force? My mind, gone completely blank from the sudden turn of events, couldn’t reach a conclusion.
In the meantime she gave a soft “ups-a-daisy,” scooped my limp body into a princess carry, and spoke again.
“Don’t worry about your body feeling strange. I only put a muscle-relaxant in your teacup. By tomorrow morning you’ll be able to move perfectly well.”
Well—you won’t be able to move for other reasons, of course. With that, Yoon Seo-a carried me up the stairs.
Toward the upper floor where the bed waited.