Chapter 48
Chapter 48
Evening had slipped into night, and the sky beyond the window turned a sullen grey.
In the living room, Kakayan sat on the sofa with her knees hugged to her chest. Barefoot, she looked oddly out of place, as if the very air around her were the wrong shape. She curled sideways, arms looped around her shins, half her face hidden in the crook of her elbow. Only her large, violet–rose eyes peeped out, furtive and shining.
They had already agreed it was "no big deal," yet Jiang Li had insisted she kick off her boots and wait on the sofa with nothing on her feet. A long moment passed before she saw him shut the fridge door and walk over carrying a plastic bag of ice.
"How is it? Still hurts?" he asked.
"It's fine. A scratch like this'll be gone in a couple of days." Kakayan's tone was flat, but her curled-up toes betrayed her. The swelling in her left ankle—earned when she'd been showing off on her bicycle—was beginning to pulse.
"That's swollen twice its size and you're calling it 'fine.'" Jiang Li frowned, eyes on the bruised skin.
Kakayan noticed his stare and instinctively tucked her feet closer. Ten neat toes curved inward until her small soles pressed together, forming an accidental heart. She bit her lip, cheeks darkening.
Jiang Li ignored the glare she shot him. Wherever Kakayan was hurt—however slightly—he intended to treat her right away. She wasn't an ordinary human; hospitals weren't an option. In an age when every routine check-up began with a blood test, her abnormal readings could land them both under observation. Unless the situation turned critical, Jiang Li refused to gamble.
If only Earth had healing magic...
"Foot up. Let me see."
"No—"
Before she could finish, Jiang Li closed his fingers around her calf. A shiver raced through her legs.
He studied the injury, laid a towel over the swelling, then pressed the ice pack on top and wrapped it snug.
Coolness seeped through the cloth, dulling the throbbing heat.
"What's the point of this...?" Kakayan muttered.
"Ice constricts the blood vessels, reduces bleeding and swelling, and numbs the pain." Jiang Li rolled his eyes. If she hadn't been showing off on her bike, the ice would have been chilling his cola right now. Instead, it was babysitting her foot.
"Oh..." She nodded, half understanding. The ache did feel better.
"Hold it yourself. Twenty minutes, then take it off." He jerked his chin toward the wall clock. "When the minute hand completes a circle, ice it again. When the pack's warm, toss it in the kitchen."
Kakayan took the ice, pouting. "You could've just told me. Didn't have to grope around."
"Because you're hopeless unless I demonstrate. And if you ice it wrong, the swelling gets worse. So shut up and hold the bag."
"Y-you're the hopeless one!"
She tried to kick at him with her unhurt foot. Jiang Li caught it almost absent-mindedly.
"Almost forgot—keep the foot elevated. Best results."
With his palms cupping her sole, he lifted her leg before she could protest. Kakayan flopped backward like a footballer attempting an overhead kick, ending up flat on the sofa.
"Let go of my foot! Jiang Li—you shameless, perverted—!"
Her curses and the frantic thumping of cushions set a steady rhythm in Jiang Li's ears. She'd lived on Earth less than half a month and was already fluent in modern insults. He made a mental note to check her browser history later.
Half a month together and she was still as noisy as an untamed cat, leaping and wreaking havoc through his life. Sprained ankle or not, she'd probably try to jump around the moment it stopped hurting.
Jiang Li decided the lesson should stick. He kept her foot aloft, letting her cosplay as "Rivaldo" for a little while longer. Five uneven toes wiggled in mid-air, ridiculously cute.
"Alright, quit squirming." He set her foot gently on a cushion. "Stay off that foot for two days. Not that you ever leave the apartment—just stay on the sofa and forget the camp bed."
He glanced at her, expecting a retort. None came. Kakayan glared daggers, cheeks flushed scarlet, lower lip clamped between her teeth—so red it looked painted. She was mortified.
Jiang Li didn't care.
Foot fetishist? Hardly.
He strolled to the bathroom, turned on the tap, and lathered soap between his palms. Suds foamed thick before he rinsed them away beneath rushing water.
Swish-swish-swish.
Swish-swish-swish.
Swish-swish-swish.
The silence made the running water sound loud—almost deliberately loud against Kakayan burning ears.
When he returned, he pushed the window open a fraction wider and drew a slow breath.
"What... what do you mean by that?" Kakayan's eyes widened.
"There's a smell," Jiang Li said flatly.
"How could there be?!" She blinked her violet–rose eyes, glanced at him, then at her own feet. After a long pause she burst out, "My feet don't smell! They're not stinky—they're... they're supposed to be fragrant!"
Long ago she'd marinated herself with a special potion. No part of her should be capable of odor.
"How would I know?" Jiang Li gave a lazy smile. "I've never sniffed your feet."
"Then why'd you say there's a smell?"
"I said there's a smell," he answered, "from the neighbors cooking dinner."
"...?"