After dinner, I carried both my and Lina's bowls to the basin, ready to wash them. Lina walked over to me.
"Karen, let me help you."
"It's fine. You go take a bath first—it's getting late."
"…Okay."
I looked at her clothes. They were covered in dust from burying the villagers—dirty and gray. Mine weren't any better.
"Right, the village chief's house should have children's clothes. Let's go look for some together."
Lina glanced at her clothes, then at mine.
"Mm."
I picked up the oil lamp and looked toward the hallway. There were several rooms, but one in particular caught my eye. Without realizing it, I walked straight to it.
Standing in front of the door, I pushed it open—and a familiar scent filled my nose. It reminded me of something from my previous life, something I used every day yet grew to dislike, though it contained so much knowledge.
I stepped into the room. The lamp's glow revealed a shelf filled with books.
(Books? This is my first time seeing them in this world. But why would the village chief have books? No one in the village can even read.)
The literacy rate here was zero. In these six years, I had never seen a single written word. Once I learned to understand this world's language, I asked my parents about its writing, but they told me no one in the village could read. Only the passing merchants might know, so I gave up on learning altogether. Yet here—there were books.
"Karen, what are those on the shelf?"
Lina entered the room too, looking at the shelf curiously.
"Those are books."
"…Books?"
"Books are what humans use to record knowledge."
"...?"
Lina tilted her head in confusion, clearly not understanding a word I said.
"Never mind. We'll look at them tomorrow. Taking a bath is more important right now."
"Okay."
It was better to read in the morning anyway. The room was too dark; my eyesight might suffer.
We moved to the next room. There was a bed and a cabinet with some folded clothes. I picked one up—it was child-sized.
"Lina, there are children's clothes here. Come and pick something that fits you."
She held a few pieces against her body, trying them on in front of the mirror, until she finally decided.
"I'll go with these two."
She chose a linen shirt and a pair of brown shorts. After opening several doors, she finally found the bathroom.
"Lina, take your time. Don't worry about me."
I returned to the kitchen, grabbed a rough piece of soap, and began washing the dishes.
When I finished, Lina still hadn't come out, so I sat on a chair, thinking about cooking techniques—and tomorrow's breakfast.
"Karen, I'm done."
Halfway through my thoughts, Lina came out of the bathroom.
"Okay."
I took a white shirt and a pair of black shorts and went into the bathroom.
Inside, there was a rack for clothes and a large water jar. But when I looked inside, it was almost empty. I opened the door and called out,
"Lina, the jar's empty. Could you help me fill it up?"
"I'm coming! I didn't use the jar's water, so I didn't notice."
Lina could use water magic, just like her mother. She walked in, stretched out her hands, and soon the jar filled to the brim with clear water.
"Thanks, Lina."
"No problem! That's what having a water attribute is for."
She didn't even look tired despite using magic for so long. This world didn't have "mana points."
People didn't get exhausted from using magic, because mana was everywhere—like air. It didn't stay in the body, so there was no such thing as running out of it.
When one cast a spell, the surrounding mana simply gathered and transformed into magic. Where that mana originally came from… no one knew.
After Lina left, I closed the door, undressed, and scooped water over my body. The cold water ran down my skin as I scrubbed myself with soap until bubbles covered every inch. I rinsed thoroughly, making sure I was clean, then dried myself with a towel and put on the clothes I'd picked. Opening the door, I stepped out.
"I'm done."
"You're so fast."
Lina sat in a chair, resting her chin on her hands as she looked at me.
"Aren't you going to sleep yet?"
"I was waiting for you."
"To pick a room? You can choose first if you want."
The chief's house had three bedrooms: one with a double bed and two with single beds.
"That's not it…"
Lina fidgeted, her voice growing smaller and smaller.
"It's just that… I want to… sleep with you."
I couldn't quite hear her, so I leaned closer.
"Say that again?"
"I said I want to sleep with you…"
"?"
Wait. Sleep together—as in at the same time or in the same bed? I asked carefully,
"Lina, what do you mean by 'together'?"
"I mean sharing the same bed."
So it was physical. My brain nearly overheated. Calm down. Stay calm. I asked her gently,
"Why?"
"Because I'm scared to sleep alone… It feels lonely."
Ah. That made sense. I thought for a moment, then nodded.
"Alright."
"Thank you, Karen."
There was no way I could refuse her.
I extinguished the fire and led her to the room with the double bed. Two people on a single bed would've been too cramped.
The double bed was in the center of the room—window on the left, cabinet on the right. I took the left side; Lina took the right. We both took off our shoes, climbed under the blanket, and settled in.
"Lina, good night."
"Good night, Karen."
We said our goodnights, closed our eyes, relaxed our bodies, and slowly drifted into sleep.