I barged into Lily's room as easily as she barged into mine. The first thing I noticed was the smell. I'd expected something sweet, something "girly", but it was actually more on the herbaceous side.
It made sense. Lily has always suffered from debilitating cramps. When it's that time of the month for her, the pain is so sharp she can't move; she just lies there and cries. Because of this, our Mom gave her some sort of ancient Asian ointment that supposedly cures all sorts of physical pain. I've never used it, but I would know that stench of burning wintergreen from anywhere. That stench was exactly what I was looking for.
The second thing I noticed was how bright everything was. Everything—the curtains, the desk, the sheets—was a piercing, brilliant white. Just looking at it made my eyes squint. Everything in my room was black or grey, so the contrast was quite jarring.
I stepped into the middle of her room as my eyes adjusted. It was still fairly early—around six or so. The sun had barely begun to set, and yet Lily's desk lamp was already on. She always turned it on past a certain time since she was afraid of the dark, even though she's fifteen by now.
Whatever, that's just who she is.
I walked over to her desk and scanned the surface. Her desk was relatively simple—just a basket filled with makeup and a mirror. Despite applying makeup every day, her table was spotless.
Well, Mom would get mad at us if our rooms ever got dirty, so it was expected.
As I stared into the basket, I noticed that one of the products was almost used up. I picked it up and held it closer to my face. It was the concealer she used. I couldn't help but let out a small chuckle.
Lily's been insecure about her eyebags since elementary school. She started using concealer all the way back then. Mom was oddly supportive of this decision, despite how young she was.
Ah… this takes me back. I remember making fun of her bags all the time.
Lily's gotten really good at putting it on; some people don't even know she's wearing it—but I never fail to notice. I put the concealer back where I found it and rummaged through the desk. The ointment wasn't there, so I moved on to her bed.
If I were Lily, I'd want to have it as close to me as possible—so I checked under her pillow first. The moment I lifted it, a pungent stench plowed my nostrils. It almost felt like the hairs inside my nose were burning away. My eyes watered from the heat, then dried out simultaneously.
Yeah, I don't know how Lily and Mom use this—and I don't want to know.
I grabbed the bottle and hurried back to my room, holding my breath until I slammed the door shut.
"Stick your leg out," I demanded, sitting on the floor beside her.
She rested her foot against my lap. I twisted the bottle cap open and quickly asked, "Okay… so how much do I put on?"
Lily's eyes narrowed. "Have you never used this before? This thing is older than you. Did you never ask Mom or Dad?"
The corner of my eyebrow twitched. "You know what? I'll wing it."
Lily's leg instinctively flinched. "Wait–!"
Lily's hands shot for the jar, but it was already too late. I poured out a glob of this mysterious, oily substance and smeared it into my palm. The moment I did, a painless, searing heat radiated across my skin.
I heard a shuddering breath escape Lily's mouth. Looks like I took too much—oh well. I brought my hand closer to Lily's foot. She tried pulling back, but I held it firmly in place with my other hand. Then–
*SMACK*
I slapped the ointment onto her skin. Lily let out an overdramatic wail of agony, her body tensing as the heat settled into her foot.
"Stop being overdramatic," I said flatly. "I know it doesn't hurt."
Lily stopped convulsing and lay still. She whipped her head away from me with a snarl. "Tsk, I just wanted to have a little fun."
"Well, you can have fun later."
"Whatever you say, boss."
I did my best to massage the ointment into her muscles. I had no clue what I was doing, but I didn't let my hands stop moving.
As I rubbed her foot, a sudden childhood memory flickered. It wasn't anything serious—just a ghost of a sensation I'd forgotten.
Oh yeah—that's right.
I chuckled to myself. Back when I was still a kid, Mom was very sick. She still is now, but it was a lot worse back then. Or maybe it just looks better now.
She'd have these awful migraines that would disable her for the day. Whenever she did, she would apply this same ointment to her head. Sometimes—maybe just to spend time with us—she'd ask Lily and me to help. Of course, as kids, we happily helped her.
I remembered my small hands pressing against her skin. She'd always lecture me, telling me I was pressing too hard, teaching me the proper way to do it. I never learned. Even so, no matter how much I fumbled—
She never complained.
She never showed her pain.
And she never stopped asking me.
She would always smile through the whole thing.
My eyes focused back onto Lily. She was watching me rub her foot with a blank, distant gaze—like she wasn't really there.
It should have hurt.
I should have been doing this wrong—
Yet she never said a word.
The only thing she did do—was smile.