The Sound of the Heart (11)
I don't remember much of what came after that.
What remains is the pain gradually fading as pleasure flooded every inch of my body, the softness that sealed my lips, the wet, sticky joining of flesh. And a smile set against the sound of sorrowful weeping.
We went on like that for a long time, until my mind simply went dark. Or maybe I let it go on purpose. It had been too hard, too unbearable.
But even if I fled that moment, nothing changed in the end.
When I opened my eyes, I was still on the bed. The room that had been dark was now bright enough that I could make out everything without turning on a light, sunlight pouring in through the window.
And Yoon Seo-a, who had woken just as I had, was watching me in silence. I didn't look away. Without so much as blinking, we held each other's gaze for a long while.
What was she thinking? Was she replaying the way she'd toyed with me last night? Or savoring the feel of our mouths pressed together? Or was she lingering over the moment she'd torn through my virginity?
And what was I thinking? Even I couldn't say what was going through my head right now.
I'd been certain that the second I could move my body—the second I could lift an arm—I would slap her across the face, or at least curse her out. Strangely, I felt none of that.
Sharing a bed didn't mean I'd fallen in love. I simply... felt nothing at all.
How long are we going to stay like this? I should get up and get ready if I want to make it to school on time. I need to contact Su-ryeon and Chae-rin, too... Those were the only trivial thoughts that surfaced.
Toward the Yoon Seo-a right in front of me, no thought and no feeling rose at all.
It was the same sensation as staring into empty air.
Beep-beep-beep— The alarm went off, and Yoon Seo-a smiled as she spoke.
"What would you like for breakfast?"
Breakfast. The word made me realize, all at once, that I was hungry. I blinked, considered it, and answered.
"French toast."
A voice with neither anger nor sorrow in it. And yet it wasn't a voice emptied of feeling, either.
It was ordinary. Everyday. The kind of tone you'd use when you ran into a friend.
I doubted whether the words I'd just spoken had really come from me, and pressed my fingers to my throat. When I made a sound—ah, ah—I felt the vibration travel up through my hand. Yes. Those had been my words.
"French toast? Ah, you mean bread pudding. I have that for breakfast often myself. Light enough for the morning, and it tastes wonderful."
Yoon Seo-a sat up as she spoke, as if my sudden strange behavior barely registered. The motion pulled the covers away and left her bare. Even now, the thought crossed my mind that she had a beautiful body.
She must take care of herself as diligently as I did. While I was thinking that, she crawled across the bed on all fours and grabbed the receiver sitting on the nightstand right beside us.
From behind, the pose left every private part of her on full display, but Seo-a didn't seem to care in the slightest. She lifted the receiver, waited a beat, and ordered two servings of bread pudding.
I didn't bother hiding my puzzled look.
"Who are you calling?"
"The dining hall. At Acacia Hall, you can just phone in a request and they'll bring the food to your room. Except very late at night."
Of course—Acacia Hall. Not that Lily Hall didn't have a dining hall of its own.
Even if it housed people a step below those in Acacia Hall or Hydrangea Hall, it was still a place where young ladies of Acacia Academy lived.
The food was excellent, the quality impressive—but a service that delivered to your door with a single phone call simply didn't exist there.
Once she'd finished ordering, Yoon Seo-a left the bed entirely and stretched her long body out to its full length. Sunlight from the window caught on her skin, and for a moment she looked like a photograph from a fashion spread.
I stared blankly until she turned toward me and I came back to myself. Even then, I didn't look away. I met those dark red eyes—eyes that were really hiding blue—without flinching.
"Ha-eun, do you think you can stand?"
"Probably."
Strength wasn't coming easily to my limbs, but it was better than when the drug had been in my system. To prove it, I threw off the covers and tried to get out of bed.
Or I would have, if I hadn't seen the traces of last night laid bare the moment the blanket came away. A few drops of blood. Sheets soaked through. Yoon Seo-a made a soft sound of surprise.
"Come to think of it, falling asleep somewhere this wet was rather foolish of us. What if you'd caught a cold?"
"Who knows."
It wasn't worth answering. I turned my eyes from the stains and climbed out of bed.
The second my feet touched the floor, my body swayed hard enough that I nearly went down.
"Are you all right, Ha-eun?"
I don't know when she'd closed the distance, but Yoon Seo-a's steadying hands kept me from hitting the floor.
Instead of thanking her, I pushed her away.
"I can manage on my own. Without your help."
"Is that so? For someone saying that, your legs are trembling rather badly."
She was right. Just standing was enough to make my legs shake.
It was inevitable. After being taken like that without a single chance to fight back, of course my body wouldn't hold up.
Even so, I refused her help to the end and started toward the stairs.
First I wanted to wash off a body pickled in sweat and fluids. And I wanted to do something about the throbbing ache between my legs.
"Ugh—!"
The moment I set one foot on the first step, my knee buckled and my body pitched forward.
The sensation of freefall seized me and my eyes squeezed shut on their own. If I tumbled down these stairs, it was going to hurt—that was the thought that crossed my mind.
But once again, it didn't happen. As if she'd expected exactly this, Yoon Seo-a wrapped an arm around my waist and held me firm.
"That was close. If I hadn't been here, you would have been badly hurt."
"Yeah."
"'Yeah,' she says. How remarkably calm of you."
It only struck me then: even though I was speaking to her in casual speech, Yoon Seo-a treated me exactly as she always had, as if it didn't bother her in the slightest.
Of course, the fact that I was speaking casually to her was just as strange.
"You were going to wash up, weren't you? I feel rather sticky myself, so why don't we go together."
Well, of course. I hadn't been the only one making a mess of things last night.
With her support, I made it down the stairs and headed straight for the bathroom.
The attendants must only come by after school hours, because the water in the bath we'd used yesterday still sat there, faintly gleaming.
Yesterday I'd already been in it, so it hadn't mattered—but the thought of water that had been sitting for hours made my skin crawl.
Yoon Seo-a clearly had no intention of using the tub first thing in the morning either, and went straight to the shower stall.
She pressed a button, adjusted the water temperature on the electronic panel, and pulled the lever. Warm water fell over our heads.
The chill that had been clinging to my body gave way almost at once to a rush of vitality, as if someone had flipped a switch and slowly woken my fogged mind.
After we finished showering together, I stepped out in a bathrobe.
Unlike when we'd gone in, I didn't need her support. The warm water had done enough that my knees no longer threatened to give out just from walking.
Once we'd showered and finished with our hair, a knock came at the door that led outside.
Yoon Seo-a gave her permission, and the door opened to admit a middle-aged woman pulling a tray. She set the plates of ordered food on the dining table and disappeared again.
Yoon Seo-a and I sat down and ate the delivered French toast—or rather, bread pudding.
The French toast I knew had more of a crisp edge to it, but the bread pudding lived up to its name with a soft, yielding texture.
The taste, of course, was excellent. Even Lily Hall's dining hall employed chefs who'd worked in starred hotels at minimum; Acacia Hall would have better ones, not worse.
"Hm."
Mid-meal, I found myself looking back and forth between the fork and knife in my hands, then at Yoon Seo-a.
She lifted her head at the sound that was almost a sigh, and the corner of her mouth curved up.
"Why are you looking at me while holding those? It's rather frightening."
"For someone saying that, you don't look frightened at all."
"Well, I trust you, Ha-eun."
I couldn't see how trust and fright went together, but I shrugged and went back to eating.
After the meal we had a modest tea time.
It was spearmint tea, and true to the mint family, that distinctive cool fragrance filled my mouth. It wasn't really to my taste.
Even after tea, there was still time before the uniforms we'd sent out for laundry would come back, so I checked my phone.
I hadn't charged it, and the battery icon was blinking.
If I wasn't careful, it might die mid-check. Thinking that, I opened the dozens of piled-up messages.
Most of them, of course, were from Su-ryeon and Chae-rin.
That was where the flood of messages ended.
I touched my lips, stared at the screen, then tapped out a sentence.
Send. The second I hit the button, my phone buzzed—Su-ryeon was calling.
Wait, I can't take a call right now— The thought had barely formed when the screen cut out with a dull click and went black. The battery had died.
Well, I'd sent the message saying I'd see her at school, so she probably wouldn't get any more anxious than she already was.
It was a shame I hadn't been able to check Chae-rin's messages, but I put the phone away and stretched out on the sofa.
I don't know how long I lay there before another knock came at the door—tap, tap.
This time, without waiting for permission, a middle-aged woman opened the door and came in carrying our uniforms on hangers. Underwear, too, of course.
We each took our own and changed.
I slipped out of the bathrobe, put on my underthings, pulled the long skirt up past my waist, and slid my arms into the sleeves of the top.
Then I fastened the buttons one by one with little clicks, and hung the yellow ribbon that marked a first-year across my chest. That was it—ready for school.
I stepped into the entryway, picked up my handbag, slipped on my shoes, straightened up—and spun, putting everything I had into a slap aimed at Yoon Seo-a's cheek.
But the sharp, satisfying sound I'd expected never came. She'd caught my wrist a finger's width from her face.
She drove me back until I hit the wall, pinning the arm I'd meant to strike her with against it.
With my arm locked down hard, Yoon Seo-a leaned in close and grinned in a way no proper young lady should.
"Trying to hit me out of nowhere—you startled me."
"Could you at least pretend to be startled before you say that?"
"Why start resisting again now? You could have just stayed broken, the way you were this morning. Both of us—you and I."
Yeah. I've thought the same thing. That giving up entirely and living as your pet would be better for me, for my friends, and for my mother.
But. But, you know. Somehow I don't want to. Not for anyone else—just not for you.
I glared at her without hiding my hostility, and Yoon Seo-a laughed softly.
"Well. That's part of what I like about you."
And then she kissed me. Not a tender lovers' kiss. Not a light good-morning peck. A greedy, devouring kiss, as if she were consuming her prey.
Her tongue swept through my mouth like a tyrant, and I could barely keep my head—but I squeezed my eyes shut and shoved that invading flesh back with my own tongue.
Then I set my teeth and bit down on her lip with everything I had.
A thin line of blood welled and dripped. Yoon Seo-a touched the lip I'd torn into, and smiled.
"I really do like you."
"Funny. I can't stand you."
Even at that, Yoon Seo-a kept smiling. Blood still dripping from her mouth.