After a brief rustle of clothes, the door swung open.
Yuna emerged amidst a cloud of steam, dressed in her school gym uniform. A track jacket on top, shorts on the bottom—the designated sleepwear for their class trip. A hand towel serving as a makeshift wrap draped her wet hair over one shoulder, and her cheeks were flushed pink from the heat. With the blood and grime washed away, her face looked more radiant than it had in the past two days. At a loss for where to look, Eiji averted his eyes toward the night sky.
Yuna smiled warmly and held out a small pouch.
"Here you go. Shampoo and conditioner. Feel free to use them."
"Nah, I'm good with plain soap. You keep them. There isn't much left, is there?"
"My hair is long, so... that amount really isn't enough for me anyway."
Taking the pouch, Eiji could tell both little bottles inside were nearly weightless without even shaking them. It might be plenty for his short hair, but for locks reaching down to her waist, it was undeniably a precarious amount.
Yuna pinched a strand of her damp hair, offering a troubled smile.
"Given our situation, maybe I should just cut it off..."
"—Don't."
The refusal slipped out before he could catch himself.
"Huh?" Yuna looked up, startled.
Meeting her gaze directly, Eiji pressed on.
"You don't have to cut it."
For as long as Eiji could remember, Yuna had worn her hair this way. She groomed it every morning, grumbled whenever humidity made it frizzy on rainy days, and spent a solid half hour blow-drying it after swim class. Oblivious as he was to most things, even Eiji knew how much care she put into it.
To make her abandon that attachment just because she had chosen to follow him into the middle of nowhere... that was something he simply couldn't accept.
"But... regular soap will leave it coarse and dry."
"Once you use up this shampoo and conditioner, my skill might be able to break down the ingredients. If I figure out what's in them, I might be able to craft something similar. It might not be identical, but... I'll manage something."
There was no guarantee whatsoever. His only basis was a peculiar quirk of Relicta Inspectio. While there was still liquid left inside, the bottles were technically still in use, which meant Relicta Inspectio would likely remain tight-lipped. But once they were empty, the story would change. There was a real chance that "maybe" could turn into something tangible.
At his earnest promise, Yuna let out a soft giggle.
"There it is. Eiji-kun's 'I'll manage something.'"
"No guarantees, though."
"Yeah... but it makes me happy."
True to her word, Yuna's eyes crinkled with genuine delight as she pushed the pouch back into his hands. Then, her gaze drifted to his torn shoulder.
"Ah, and your shirt. I'll wash and mend it while you're in the tub. Can I take it?"
"...Yeah, thanks."
As he unbuttoned and slipped it off, the ragged tears along the shoulder and sleeve came into plain view once more.
Taking the bloodstained, mud-caked shirt without the slightest hint of disgust, Yuna folded it neatly. Just yesterday, catching a glimpse of Eiji without a shirt had made her turn beet red, but perhaps she had already grown used to it, as she didn't seem particularly fazed now.
Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, Yuna glanced up.
"...Eiji-kun, do you still prefer long hair?"
"Wait, what?! Where'd that come from?!"
The phrase "do you still" gave him pause.
It was true that he preferred long hair, but how did she know that?
A mischievous smile danced on Yuna's lips as she answered his confusion.
"Because back when we were little, I asked you if you liked short or long hair better, and you said, 'The long one.'"
"I have zero memory of that..."
He racked his brain, but the memory refused to surface.
Still, it sounded exactly like something he would have said. Yuna's hair had been long even back then, and he had always thought it suited her best.
(Wait... hold on a second. Does that mean... the reason Yuna's kept her hair long all this time is—?!)
Startled by the realization, he jerked his head up, only for Yuna to let out a tiny gasp and clap a hand over her mouth.
Their eyes locked. Neither of them moved an inch.
"U-Um! I-I'll go to the house and start getting dinner ready, okay?! Having me loitering outside the bathhouse would just be weird, anyway!"
Gathering the folded shirt and her bundle of clothes into her arms, Yuna spun on her heel and practically jogged back toward the main house.
She didn't even notice the corner of the towel slipping off her shoulder.
Watching her hurried retreat, Eiji muttered into the empty plaza.
"...For real?"
The only response was the rising steam drifting into the night.
(N-No, come on. Don't jump to conclusions. Better take that with a grain of salt.)
Somehow forcing himself to reset, Eiji stepped inside the bathhouse.
The cozy, single-person space was thick with steam. Ladling warm water over himself, he lathered up with the soap. It lacked any fragrance, but it cut through the grime effectively.
Blood, mud, and two days of accumulated sweat washed away across the stone floor. Over the shoulder where the monster's claws had grazed him, not a trace of a scar remained.
Tracing his smooth, unblemished skin, he offered a silent bow of gratitude to the primary physician just across the yard.
Then, he got down to business as promised. He used every single remaining drop of the shampoo on his head and scraped out the conditioner with his fingertips until the bottle was spotless. It was the first time in his life he had ever approached the simple act of washing his hair with such clinical intensity.
Setting the two empty bottles side by side on the rim of the wooden tub, he pressed his fingers against the plastic.
Instantly, Relicta Inspectio—which had been utterly silent while the bottles had contents—became remarkably chatty. A detailed breakdown of the chemical components flowed through his mind, capped off by a final line of text.
[Complete reproduction impossible. However, using medicinal herbs and fragrant herbs native to this region, crafting an approximate substitute is possible.]
The empty containers had far more to say than when they were full.
What was more, the appraisal even provided specific names for the medicinal and fragrant herbs required.
"...So you only speak up once it's completely empty, huh? You've got a seriously difficult personality, skill."
Apparently, Relicta Inspectio only opened its mouth for items that had officially concluded their intended purpose. That also solved the mystery of why his homemade soap was unscented—it was simply missing fragrant herbs.
After wiping down the bottles, he slipped them back into the pouch and eased into the wooden bath.
As the hot water rose to his shoulders, the physical toll of the entire day finally caught up to him. He had turned an abandoned shack into a bathhouse, fought to the death against six monsters, had his leg muscles fundamentally remodeled, and then took a massive emotional bombshell straight to the face through a wooden door. For their second day in this world, it was frankly absurdly packed.
"Medicinal herbs and fragrant herbs, huh. Guess I should head up into the mountains tomorrow... No, maybe I ought to get the vegetable plots in order first? We don't have that much meat to begin with."
The moment the words left his mouth, he realized he had just added another unguaranteed promise to his tally. A working bath by tonight, solving her hair care dilemma, and now wild herbs. His track record of reckless overpromising was steadily piling up.
Still, he had managed to keep his word about getting the bath ready today. Things would probably work out next time, too. He just had to believe they would.
Before he could get lightheaded from the heat, he climbed out of the tub and dried off with the towel. Pulling on his uniform trousers, he draped the cloth over his bare shoulder. His shirt was currently in Yuna's capable hands.
(...I really need to figure out a fresh change of clothes for myself soon, too.)
Adding yet another item to his growing mental checklist, Eiji headed toward the main house.
Stepping through the entryway, he found the hearth fire casting a warm orange glow across the packed-dirt floor. Yuna was crouched near the flames, wrestling with a slab of meat over an iron pot. The sheer size of the chunks was giving her a hard time. Lacking any proper butchery tools, she had clearly struggled to carve the meat into pieces small enough to tear apart by hand, leaving a line of jagged, uneven morsels resting along the pot's rim. A kitchen knife was officially making tomorrow's priority list as well.
Just as Eiji opened his mouth to tell her that he had a solid lead on the hair conditioner, she turned around.
"Ah, Eiji-kun. How was the bath?"
"Man, it was incredible. A hot soak really is non-negotiable for Japanese people."
Her voice was back to its cheerful, familiar rhythm.
The slightly breathless tone from behind the door and that frantic dash across the plaza seemed to have been tucked neatly out of sight for now. Relieved, Eiji stepped up into the room.
Without warning, Yuna set down the meat and rose to her feet. She closed the distance between them with light, purposeful steps.
Before he could wonder what she was doing, she leaned in, bringing her nose right up to his ear, and took a delicate little sniff. And then—
"...We smell exactly the same right now, don't we?"
She whispered it right into his ear—shy, but with an unmistakable edge of pure mischief.
Every possible response in his brain was instantly wiped out.
They had used the same shampoo in the same bathwater. Of course they smelled the same. It was completely natural, but hearing something so obvious spoken aloud in a quiet whisper carried a frankly terrifying amount of destructive power.
Against all odds, this single sentence hit him far harder than six magic wolves ever had. It was easily the heaviest blow he had taken on their second day in the abandoned village.
"Ehehe. Dinner's almost ready, so just hang on a little longer, okay?"
Giggling bashfully, Yuna turned back toward the hearth as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. She even began humming a cheerful tune.
(You... you definitely did that on purpose.)
Slumping down against the wall, Eiji stared up at the wooden ceiling beams.
The herbs and the food supply could wait.
For today, his capacity to process anything else was completely spent.