I was back in Soren's arms again.
I struggled out of reflex, kicking lightly and twisting my body, but this time he didn't put me down. Instead, his hand came up and patted my head—slow, steady, and oddly gentle, as if he were soothing a restless cub.
…Ah.
Now I understood.
'So this is why cats like being petted.'
Forget walking. Being carried like this was infinitely better than staring at people's boots, knees, and thighs all day. From up here, the world looked completely different. Wider. Clearer. And much more dignified.
I lifted my chin slightly and glanced around.
Everywhere we passed, people froze. Soldiers, attendants, even technicians who were usually glued to their terminals—all of them stared at me with dazed, incredulous expressions. Some looked confused, some shocked, and a few downright horrified.
I couldn't help it.
A smug little smile crept onto my face.
'You see this?'
'This terrifying commander? He's holding me.'
'And he doesn't give a damn.'
If I could speak, I would have announced it loudly.
'Bow down, peasants.'
I laughed internally as we walked past, savoring every second of their disbelief.
Soren, of course, paid them no attention at all.
Eventually, we returned to Soren's cabin. I expected him to finally put me down, but instead, he changed direction and headed straight for the bathroom.
The door slid shut behind us.
The lights turned on, revealing a spacious, immaculately clean bathroom. A full-length mirror stood across from us, reflecting the sight in brutal clarity.
A tall man in a ruined, blood-stained uniform, his body marked with old and fresh scars.
And in his arms—
A small, filthy albino leopard with ash-stained fur, clumped whiskers, and soot smeared across her face.
"…Ugh."
I stared at my reflection in horror.
'I look hideous.'
My ears drooped slightly in embarrassment. In my past life, I had been a complete clean freak. Dust, stains, smudges—unacceptable. Though, admittedly, when I was fully absorbed in sculpting, I could ignore the world falling apart around me. Still, this? This was beyond tolerance.
Soren didn't comment. He simply walked forward and gently placed me on the sink counter.
Then, without hesitation, he reached up and removed his ruined shirt. The fabric peeled away, revealing claw marks torn through it—and through his skin beneath. Fresh wounds crisscrossed his torso, some already bandaged, others still faintly red.
I froze for a moment.
'…He was more injured than he looked.'
Before I could process that thought further, I turned my attention back to myself. Priorities.
I examined my paws. They were coated in dust, ash, and dried grime. Disgusting.
Reaching forward, I nudged the faucet handle.
Water flowed out immediately.
Cold.
I hissed softly and shivered, pulling my paws back instinctively.
Maybe… maybe I should just wash my paws and be done with it.
I cautiously extended one paw again, letting the water run over it. The cold seeped into my bones, making my ears twitch, but I endured it. With my other paw, I pressed down on the soap dispenser.
Squish.
Foam spilled out.
I scrubbed thoroughly, rubbing my paws together with practiced precision. Soot, grime, and dried ash washed away, swirling down the drain. Slowly, the white fur beneath emerged again—clean, soft, and unmistakably pristine.
When I was done, I lifted my paws and shook them lightly, then inspected the results with satisfaction.
Perfect.
Absolutely perfect.
I grinned, baring my claws proudly as they gleamed under the bathroom light.
Nice and clean.
I didn't realize that Soren had been watching me the entire time.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Soren watched the little leopard admire her freshly cleaned paws, her posture practically screaming accomplishment, and slowly raised an eyebrow.
'…She thinks she's done?'
For a brief second, he almost admired the confidence.
Almost.
Before she could celebrate further, he reached out and scooped her up. The little beast was still staring at her paws when her body suddenly left the sink. It took her a heartbeat to react—then her red eyes widened and she began struggling wildly.
"Hey—!" Her claws flexed instinctively, tail lashing as she finally understood his intention.
Too late.
Soren carried her straight toward the bathtub.
The moment he placed her inside and turned on the faucet, she shot upright like lightning. Water splashed against the smooth surface as she hooked her tail tightly around the edge of the tub, claws digging in for dear life.
She looked up at him with wide, shimmering eyes, ears drooping, expression pitiful enough to make even a stone-hearted general hesitate.
It was very effective.
Unfortunately for her, Soren was not weak-willed.
"No," he said calmly, utterly unmoved. "You're dirty."
The moment she realized he truly wasn't going to budge, her expression snapped from pitiful to furious. She glared at him, narrowed her eyes, and flicked her wet tail sharply toward his chest.
Water droplets splattered across his body.
Soren didn't dodge. He didn't even flinch. Instead, he smirked slightly, amusement flickering in his eyes. 'This little beast really has a nasty attitude.'
The little leopard, clearly offended by his lack of reaction, growled low in her throat and continued lashing her tail at him, each flick more aggressive than the last. Her body language screamed resistance, indignation, and an unspoken accusation of tyranny.
Soren watched her carefully.
After a few seconds, realization dawned on him.
"…Oh," he said, tone shifting subtly. "Is the water too cold?"
The little beast froze.
Then, after a moment of hesitation, she nodded.
Just once.
Soren paused.
He reached forward and adjusted the temperature, testing it briefly with his fingers until the water warmed to a comfortable level. Steam curled faintly upward as the tub continued to fill.
"There," he said. "That better?"
She nodded again.
Satisfied, she began to rub her soaked fur with her paws, spreading water evenly across her body. Her tail swayed gracefully beneath the water, creating small ripples that reflected the soft light from the overhead lamp.
When Soren reached out and gently rubbed the little beast's two round ears, the beast froze for a fraction of a second, tilting her head as if questioning his touch. He expected a swat or a growl, but the little leopard merely blinked at him, her red eyes reflecting a hint of curiosity. She didn't pull away.
"…Do you want me to help?" Soren asked softly, keeping his tone calm.
A small, deliberate nod followed. That was all the consent she gave, but it was enough.
He reached for the cleanser again, the gentle, white foam specially formulated for beastmen fur. Kneeling beside the tub, he began rubbing it carefully into her soaked fur and finally to her tail. The little beast remained still, occasionally flicking a paw to play with the bubbles, but overall letting him work.
He gently rinsed the first layer of suds away with fresh water. The little leopard leapt from the tub with surprising agility, landing gracefully on the edge. Water dripped down her fur, but she immediately began washing herself again, lapping at her paws and rubbing her face.
Soren grabbed a towel and wrapped it around the little beast and placed it on the sink while starting the bathroom's smart drying system.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
The warm feeling made me yawn comfortably. By the time all my fur was dry, I sprinted out of the bathroom and dashed into the outer room, my paws tapping lightly against the smooth floor.
I'm finally clean thanks to Soren!
My body felt light, my fur fluffy and refreshed. I stretched lazily, arching my back and extending my claws before retracting them again. That was when a rich, mouthwatering scent drifted into my nose.
Food!
My ears perked up instantly, and my stomach let out a very undignified growl. I followed the smell and spotted it—neatly arranged dishes placed on the table. The aroma was nothing like those awful nutrient packs. This smelled real. Warm. Savory.
I swallowed hard, drool threatening to escape as I leapt onto a chair. I was just about to jump onto the table and dig in when I froze.
…Wait.
I hesitated, staring at the food like it was some forbidden treasure. If I acted too wild—too uncivilized—what if Soren decided I was troublesome? What if he regretted bringing me along and abandon me again?
My paws curled slightly on the chair cushion as I fought with myself.
Tch. This is torture.
In my past life, I never waited for anyone. People waited for me—clients, assistants, sculptors, executives. Even time itself seemed to revolve around my condition. And now here I was, a small leopard sitting obediently, waiting for permission to eat.
I sighed deeply and shook my head.
I'm not Blanca Frostine anymore.
That name suddenly felt distant, like it belonged to someone else entirely.
'What happened to my body anyway?'
'I'm sure those greedy relatives of mine put something on my wine.'
'Did anyone find me? Or was I still lying there somewhere, forgotten, rotting quietly in a luxurious prison?'
'Is grandfather and my parents okay?'
The thought made my chest feel strangely heavy.