Making things right P2
Imported from SF2 with no description.
Yuki and I have been getting to know one another over the past few weeks. I've taught her as much as I could about the modern world. About the people, other humans across the lands and especially the government. While she still may not fully understand it as a modern human would, she at least caught a glimpse of why I was so worried about anyone finding out she existed. She felt, given everything I've told her, that remaining in the cave was the safest option for now.
But there was much more than talk of the world. We shared our pasts, at least, as much as we could. Yuki's memory had faded and she could only briefly recall her life before she was captured. She knows other dragons existed, but she was no longer certain of their names or where they could've gone. Rather than making her feel bad, I instead told her of my childhood.
How I wanted to be a priest and all the training I underwent. I steered clear of mentioning my father and the stories he told me. Speaking of... My father has remained none the wiser. To him, I've merely been taking my duties seriously and remaining diligent. But if I'm honest, I can't bear to look him in the eye anymore. I often wonder what he did with Yuki's eye, but asking now would be pointless. Today, though, is special. I have a surprise for Yuki.
I've decided to draw her a bath. I'm not sure if dragons bathe, but I noticed her feathers and scales still bear the marks of her past trauma. I hope this bath will symbolize a new beginning for Yuki, washing away the remnants of her pain and marking the start of a brighter future. What that future holds, I can't say for certain, but I can promise it won't be as a slave anymore.
While exploring the cave, I found a secluded section—a small area with a skylight that lets in the morning sun and a passage where snowmelt from the mountain flows down to the nearby lake. Luckily, there's a natural divot in the cave floor that serves as a perfect tub. So, I went back to basics. I built a small fire, boiled some water, and poured it into the tub, adjusting the temperature with cold water until it was just right. I did all this early in the morning while Yuki rested, but once the bath was ready, I walked into the main chamber of the cave.
"Yuki?"
"Yes?" She called back.
"I have a surprise for you."
She stepped into the glow of my lantern. "I shall follow you then."
There was no hesitation, no doubt in her voice. I can't say for sure if Yuki is simply too trusting or if my actions have spoken for themselves, but either way, I can't help feeling a strange mix of emotions when I'm with her. It feels like I've made a friend, but the shame of what my family has done keeps me from saying it aloud.
I shook those thoughts away and led Yuki to the impromptu bathing room. When she entered and I set the lantern aside, her expression shifted from surprise to confusion.
"What is this?" she asked, walking over to the makeshift tub.
"A bath."
"Bath?" She tilted her head, her ears flicking slightly as if the word was entirely foreign to her.
I nodded, trying to explain. "Yeah, so you can clean yourself. Do dragons not do that?"
She shook her head. "We allow the earth to wash us."
"Like, rain?" She nods. "Well, it's going to be some time before that happens," I said honestly. "I just thought it would be nice to clean you up."
Yuki glanced down at herself, the dark stains of dried blood and other remnants still clinging to her scales and feathers.
"Yes, I believe you are right." She walked over and submerged herself in the water. "This is strange... I've never been in hot water before."
"Hopefully it's not too hot," I said, watching for any sign of discomfort.
She shakes her head. "It's fine."
What puzzled me was what she did next—nothing at all. She simply sat there, submerged in the water, her eye fixed on me as if this was the most natural thing in the world. There was no attempt to wash, no movement beyond the subtle shift of her feathers in the water. It dawned on me then that, having only ever known the rain as a means of cleansing, the idea of actively scrubbing herself was probably foreign to her. She just assumed that sitting and soaking was all there was to it.
"Yuki, may I offer a suggestion?"
"Hmm?"
"Would you like me to help you bathe? I don't think soaking alone will do much."
She looks down at herself. "I suppose I'm not against it. I'm unsure what you mean with these words you use but I understand you wish to help."
"This shouldn't take long," I assured her.
I left some sponges and soap lying by the tub, but now that I think about it, what did I expect? It's like leaving a dog in the bath and assuming they'll come out clean on their own. Yuki is smart, but humans are the only creatures that actually use soap and such to get clean. The concept must be completely foreign to her. Still, I'm filled with a quiet determination—if I can't heal the wounds in her heart, I can at least remove the physical reminders of her torment, scrubbing away the sins of my ancestors from her flesh.
With everything ready, I grabbed a sponge and some soap and stepped into the bath beside her. I worked the soap into the sponge until it was nice and sudsy, the fruity scent quickly filling the air around us. Yuki looked down at me curiously, her gaze calm but inquisitive, as if trying to understand the purpose of this strange ritual. Once I was close enough, I paused, holding the sponge just above her scales.
"May I?" I asked, my voice soft, careful not to startle her.
She nodded, and I began at her neck, gently running the sponge over her scales, avoiding the raw patches and deep scars. When I had asked Yuki why these wounds hadn't healed, she explained that they were too deeply embedded, not just in her body but in her very soul. Her magic, no matter how powerful, couldn't restore her purity that was taken. Despite that, I had tried my best with ointments and remedies, hoping that, if nothing else, they might bring her a small measure of comfort.
"It smells nice. Can you eat it?" she asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I shake my head. "No. It's just for cleaning."
"Strange," she murmured, "but I can't deny that it feels... refreshing."
I stayed focused, and with each careful swipe of the sponge, I could see her scales growing a shade whiter, the dirt and blood slowly lifting away. The sight of her returning to her former brilliance brought a sense of relief, as if each stroke was scrubbing away not just the grime, but a piece of the guilt I carried. Maybe this was as much about cleansing my own conscience as it was about helping her. It didn't take long to clean her neck, and I paused looking at her long, serpentine body.
Unsure of where to go next, I instead decided to focus on her face.
If Yuki thought Tasuke had been gentle before, it was nothing compared to the care he took when he moved to her muzzle. His touch became even softer, almost hesitant, as if afraid she might break beneath his fingers. She could sense the storm of emotions within him, the turmoil that had been simmering for weeks.
In their conversations, she had seen the pain he tried so hard to bury, the guilt he carried as if it were his own. He was a human unlike any other she had known, and it saddened her deeply. The burden of his family's sins weighed so heavily on him, and Yuki knew it wasn't what she wanted for him. He was innocent of those crimes, yet watching him suffer for the actions of others hurt her more than any of the memories she carried.
Even now, as his fingers brushed back the hair covering her eye, she could feel the tremor in his hands. He froze, his breath catching in his throat, as if the sight of her empty socket brought all his fears to the surface.
"The sins of the father are not a son's responsibility," Yuki said, her voice firm, carrying a finality that she hoped would ease his mind.
"I-I know," he replied, though the uncertainty in his voice betrayed him. "It's just not fair."
"If I killed your father, would that make you happy?" Yuki asks.
Tasuke gritted his teeth, clearly torn by the question. Yuki could see the conflict in his eyes. His father had been good to him—that much was obvious. If he hadn't been, Tasuke wouldn't be hesitating, wouldn't be in such turmoil. The line between right and wrong blurred in his mind, and Yuki understood the struggle. She had wrestled with similar thoughts herself. The memories of that man, the way he had looked at her with a detached, soulless expression as he tore out her eye, would haunt her for decades. It was a look she had seen too many times.
But as she looked at Tasuke now, she realized that killing his father would only cause him more pain. What would she truly gain from revenge? The damage had already been done, and no amount of bloodshed could erase the past or heal her wounds. No, she realized, Tasuke was already doing more to heal her than any act of violence could. Perhaps not in ways that were visible, but in the time they spent together, she found herself beginning to treasure him.
His honesty, how he wears his heart on his sleeves. It wasn't because of his guilt, she knew deep down, he was simply a good human.
"I-I don't know," he answers.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not going to kill him," she said gently.
"How can you let go of what happened?" he asked, his eyes searching hers for an answer.
"I haven't let go," she admitted, her voice steady. "I've just chosen to take a step forward."
Yuki's strength amazes me. Even after everything she's endured, she chooses to move forward, carrying the weight of her past without letting it consume her. If I can't undo the wrongs of my family, then maybe my purpose lies in standing by her, supporting her in whatever she chooses to do. Perhaps in doing so, I'll find a way to heal myself as well.
"Yuki," I began, my voice steady but laced with emotion. "If you cannot find it in your heart for revenge, then let me become your servant. I understand that I am not directly responsible for what my family has done, but I cannot turn a blind eye to it either. Please, accept my selfish request, so that I too may take a step forward alongside you."
Her eye widened in surprise, but as she looked at me, her expression softened into something almost warm. A small smile played at the corner of her lips.
"Very well, Tasuke," she said softly. "I look forward to getting to know you better."
I nodded, feeling a strange sense of relief, before returning to washing her, this time with renewed energy. I made sure to clean her feathers thoroughly before moving lower down her body. But when I reached a certain point, I hesitated. I knew I had just vowed to stand by her, but I didn't want to cross a certain line after what my family had done to her. Respecting her boundaries, I gently grasped her foreclaw and placed the sponge in it.
"Why don't you try washing your lower half?" I suggested. "There might be times when you want to bathe without needing help."
She studied the sponge for a moment, then coiled her tail closer, imitating the motions she'd seen me use.
"Hmm... It's not as difficult as it looked," she mused to herself.
"I'll go check outside. If the coast is clear, you can dry in the sun," I offered.
"Very well," Yuki replied, already absorbed in her task.
I watched her for a moment longer, something in my chest tightening. It was strange—after everything, why did I feel this weight in my heart now? Pushing the feeling aside, I turned and made my way toward the cave's entrance, hoping the fresh air might clear my mind.
Yuki stretched out in the sun, her feathers ruffling slightly as the warmth dried them, and tiny droplets of water slid down her scales, catching the light. We sat together in silence, the soft rustle of leaves the only sound. I stole a few glances at her, captivated by how at ease she seemed in this moment, soaking up the sun as if the world and all its troubles didn't exist. It was a simple pleasure, one I could relate to, but there was something almost magical in the way she reveled in it, as though she was rediscovering the joys of just being alive.
One of the things we'd talked about recently was what she ate. As it turns out, she doesn't have to eat. She stated that eating was merely an exercise in pleasure and not about survival. So she did not desire or ask for anything. However, given the time period she's from, I knew that her experience with sweets would be severely limited.
An idea formed in my mind—a small, simple way to add a bit more joy to her day.
"Yuki," I began, breaking the comfortable silence, "have you ever had candy?"
"Candy?" She turned her head slightly, as if searching her memories. "I don't believe I have."
I shifted closer, pulling out a chocolate bar I had picked up earlier. Carefully, I unwrapped it, the foil crinkling softly as I broke off a piece and held it out to her.
"Would you like to try it? It's different from anything you've tasted before."
She leaned in, sniffing the small piece curiously.
"It has such an unusual scent. But if you're offering, I trust it's something worth trying," she said, a hint of amusement in her voice.
She delicately took the edge of the chocolate with her lips, lifting it into her mouth. As she chewed, her expression shifted—her eye widened, and she paused, clearly caught off guard by the intense flavor. It was captivating to watch her reaction, the way she chewed slowly, as if she was trying to unravel the mystery of this new taste, while the surprise in her eye softened into something resembling delight.
"This is wonderful," Yuki murmured, her voice filled with quiet amazement as she savored the last bit of chocolate. She glanced back at me, her eye shimmering with curiosity. "Is this what humans eat for pleasure?"
"Sometimes," I replied with a smile. "It's a treat, something special. It's meant to make you feel good, to enjoy the moment."
She tilted her head slightly, her gaze thoughtful as she processed this. "I can see why. It's unlike anything I've ever tasted before. It's comforting."
I watched as Yuki savored the experience, her eye still bright with that curious gleam. She seemed to be considering something, as if she was trying to fit this new experience into the world she knew.
"You know," I began, feeling the need to fill the silence, "there are a lot of different kinds of treats. Some are even better than chocolate, if you can believe that."
Yuki looked down at me, the corners of her mouth twitching as if she was holding back a smile.
"Better than this?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of playful skepticism.
"Well, maybe 'better' isn't the right word," I admitted. "But different. There are sweet things, salty things, things that melt in your mouth, and things that are crunchy. Each one has its own way of making you feel good. It's like... tiny pieces of happiness you can taste."
She seemed to mull over my words, her tail flicking thoughtfully behind her.
"It sounds like humans have a lot of ways to find joy in the little things," she said, almost to herself.
"We do," I agreed, but then added, almost without thinking, "but sometimes I think we use those little things to fill a bigger void."
Yuki turned her head to look at me, her expression curious. "What do you mean?"
I sighed, leaning back against a tree. "I guess it's just that… life can be really complicated now. In the modern world, we're surrounded by so much noise—work, technology, all the expectations. It's hard for people to find real happiness in the simple things anymore, like nature or just being in the moment. So, we turn to other things. Food, for instance, becomes more than just something to keep us alive. It's a way to comfort ourselves, to feel good when everything else feels out of control."
"It sounds… lonely," she said finally, her voice soft.
Her words hung in the air, making me realize just how heavy the conversation had become. I hadn't meant to bring the mood down, especially not now, when we were sharing something so simple and enjoyable. I shook my head, trying to shake off the somber thoughts that had crept in.
"Yeah, it can be," I admitted, glancing at her. But then I forced a smile, deciding to steer the conversation in a lighter direction. "But you know, it's not all bad. We still find joy in a lot of things, like food, yes, but also in sharing moments like this. And, hey, not everything in the modern world is complicated. We've got some pretty cool stuff too—like movies, music, even games. There's always something to look forward to."
Yuki's ears perked up slightly at the mention of these new things. "Movies? Games?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
I nodded, feeling a bit more at ease now that we were moving away from the heavier topics. "Yeah. Movies are like… well, they're stories brought to life on a screen. You get to watch people act out all sorts of tales—adventures, romances, comedies. And games? They're even more interactive. You can actually participate, make choices, and see how they play out. It's a way to escape, to experience something new without ever leaving your home."
Her eye brightened a little as I spoke, and I could see her tail give a small flick. "I'd like to see one of these movies someday."
A genuine smile tugged at my lips. "How about tonight?" I offered, the idea already taking shape in my mind. "It wouldn't be hard to set up. I have a small projector, and all we need is to use the cave wall to—" I paused, noticing the puzzled look in Yuki's eye. Of course, she doesn't know what I'm talking about. "Sorry," I corrected myself with a sheepish grin. "I'm probably making this sound more complicated than it is. Basically, I've got a way to show the movie right here in the cave. We can watch it together, no problem."
Yuki tilted her head, the confusion in her expression fading as she processed what I was saying. "You mean… you can show me one of these stories tonight?"
"Exactly," I said, nodding enthusiastically. "It'll be like having a little theater right here. I'll set everything up, and we can just relax and enjoy the movie."
Her ears perked up, and I could see the excitement growing in her. "Are you sure it's not too much trouble?"
"Not at all," I assured her, feeling a flutter of anticipation myself. "I'll head out and gather everything we need. I also have some other stuff I need to take care of. It won't take long, and I'll be back tonight to set it all up."
She nodded, a small, eager smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I'll be here," she said, her tail giving a subtle wag.
Standing up, I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement myself. The thought of sharing a movie with Yuki, of seeing her reactions to something she'd never experienced before, filled me with a kind of lightness I hadn't felt in a while.