A familiar sound.
One she hadn't heard in what felt like an eternity.
The serene, rhythmic clatter of pots and pans tapping softly, utensils scraping against surfaces, interwoven with the occasional gentle hum. It was the unmistakable melody of a kitchen—a place alive with the quiet bustle of someone preparing a meal.
"Ah...? Ha...?"
Her voice barely escaped her lips as she stirred, her eyelids slowly fluttered open. But the moment they did, she winced and quickly shielded them with her hand.
"Huh?"
It wasn't the room's brightness that startled her—the light was soft, almost soothing. But her eyes, long unaccustomed to any illumination, struggled to adjust even to the faintest glow.
Lowering her hand cautiously, she tried again, squinting as her vision blurred. Tears welled up, spilling over as her eyes tried to adjust to the light, protesting the sudden stimulation after their long slumber.
She blinked slowly, her vision gradually sharpening, though everything still felt surreal. Shapes began to take form—a wooden table, mismatched chairs, and the faint glint of metal from a pot resting on the stove.
Making further sense of her surroundings, she turned her head. A large, thin mirror with strange buttons attached to its frame stood at the far end of the room.
Turning her head slowly, she took in the rest of the space, walls painted in muted tones, with small picture frames dotting the space.
The smell hit her next, a faint, savory aroma floating through the air.
"W-Where... A-Another d-dream?"
She adjusted her eyes, taking in her form. Just then, she noticed the soft blanket draped over her.
She was lying on a sofa in what appeared to be a living room. However, many of the items around her seemed strange and unfamiliar.
She tried to sit up, but her limbs didn't seem to respond as she wished. It was as if she were a newborn trying to suddenly stand.
Her arms felt weak, and for a moment, she felt as though she was completely paralyzed.
"Take it slow, Miss Bride-san."
A voice suddenly reached her ears, freezing her in place as though she'd been caught in the act of committing a crime.
Cautiously, her gaze shifted toward the source of the voice. A young girl emerged from the kitchen with a smile close to a smug grin on her face.
Long black hair tied into long twin tails, her right eye gleamed with a striking red hue, while her left eye remained hidden beneath her bangs. She was dressed in simple plain white pajamas.
In both hands, the girl carried two plates.
Still lying on her side, supported only by her trembling arm as she struggled to lift her head, Bride couldn't clearly make out what was on the plates. All she could perceive was the faint aroma rising from the dishes, tantalizing her senses.
It wasn't until the girl set the plates on the small table nearby that the contents became clear: curry.
The girl pushed one plate toward Bride, who instinctively withdrew her hand to her chest, inching slightly away from the table in confusion. Undeterred, the girl simply placed the other dish beside her and took a seat in the chair on the opposite side of the table.
"Itadakimasu~（いただきます～）"
Clapping her hands together in a quick gesture of thanks, the girl didn't wait for Bride to join her. She immediately reached for a spoon and began eating with apparent satisfaction.
On the other side, Bride remained frozen in a state of confusion, her gaze darting between the plate and the girl. Her body still trembled slightly, hesitant and unsure of what to do.
It wasn't until the girl glanced up mid-bite, meeting Bride's uncertain eyes, that she gave a small nod of encouragement, silently urging her to eat while she continued to chew her food.
Even though her mouth felt dry, Bride let out a nervous gulp, slowly forcing herself to sit up. With trembling hands, she pushed the blanket away, inch by inch, until she managed to swing her legs down and attempt a seated pose.
The effort was slow and awkward. By the time she managed to sit upright, the girl across the table was already halfway through her meal.
Bride hesitated, her trembling hand hovering over the table as if searching for something. Despite the assortment of dishes placed nearby, her attention remained fixated on the plate of curry.
She cast a cautious glance at the girl, who was still eating without a care in the world, before turning her gaze back to the plate.
With painstaking effort, she reached out, her shaky fingers brushing the edge of the plate before finally lifting it. The plate wobbled precariously in her unsteady grip as she placed it on her lap.
Next, her hand reached for the spoon. Her fingers struggled to curl around the handle, and the moment she managed to lift it, the spoon slipped from her grasp almost immediately, clattering softly onto the plate.
She froze, her gaze raised in fear toward the girl on the other side, as though expecting to get punished.
However, The girl didn't react. She simply kept eating, her rhythmic chewing a quiet reassurance.
Withdrawing her gaze, Bride tried again. Her hand trembled worse this time, and the spoon fell once more, the sound sharper in her ears than it actually was.
A deep, shaky breath escaped her lips as she clenched her hand into a fist, and then released it. With visible effort, she spread her fingers wide and grabbed the spoon using all five of them, gripping it like a lifeline. It wasn't graceful, but it worked.
With painstaking care, she scooped a small portion of the curry and brought it toward her lips. Her movements were clumsy and slow, the spoon shaking in her grasp, but she managed to take a bite.
The moment the food touched her tongue, she froze.
Her body stiffened, and for a heartbeat, she sat there unmoving, the rich flavors spreading across her taste buds. Then, as if a dam had broken, tears welled up in her eyes and began streaming down her cheeks.
These weren't tears brought on by her eyes struggling to adjust to the brightness around her, and for once, they weren't tears of pain or strain.
"I-it's... i-it's d-delicious..."
Without hesitation, she brought the spoon back to the plate, scooping up another bite, then another. Each movement was a struggle—her trembling arm, her unsteady grip—but she ate as fast as her frail body allowed.
The tears didn't stop flowing, streaking down her pale face and onto her lap, some even falling into the plate itself. But she didn't care. Bite after bite, she continued, her breaths coming in shallow, uneven gasps between mouthfuls.
"I-I can taste it... T-this... hick*... it's not a dream..."
Across the table, the girl paused for a moment, her crimson eye watching Bride with a faint flicker of something unspoken. Then, as if deciding against interrupting, she turned her attention back to her own plate, continuing to eat quietly, allowing Bride her moment.
Not long after, the girl finished her meal, gently placing her spoon to the side before picking up a small napkin to wipe her mouth.
As she looked up, Bride seemed to catch up, Her pace slowed as she lifted the final spoonful to her lips.
As the last bite was taken, her spoon slipped from her fingers, clinking softly against the plate before her hand fell to her lap, weighed down by exhaustion.
"Well then, Spirit-san... shall we begin?"
"Hick!"
Bride flinched violently, as if the words jolted her back to reality. Instinctively, she curled her limbs inward, shrinking defensively as though to shield herself. The plate slipped from her lap, crashing onto the floor with a sharp clatter. Her body trembled as she edged away on the sofa.
Her wide eyes locked onto the girl, whose lips were already curving into a faintly mischievous smile.
"Oh, my? Don't worry. I think I've made it obvious I don't mean any harm, haven't I? You loved my cooking, didn't you?"
Bride's lips parted as if to respond, but no words came out. Her body remained tense, caught between fear and uncertainty.
The girl tilted her head, her crimson eye gleaming with amusement. "No need to be so scared, If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn't have gone through all that trouble to cook for you, now would I?"
The logic in her words didn't ease the knot in Bride's chest. Her gaze darted to the empty plate in front of her, before reluctantly meeting the girl's gleaming crimson eye again.
"Besides, I actually went so far as to use my Fourth Bullet, Dalet, to heal all your injuries and purge every last toxin from your body."
She sighed dramatically, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I wasted so much valuable time just to drag you back from the brink of death. Honestly..." She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and her chin in her palms, "...how did you even manage to survive in such a condition?"
The sing-song lilt in her voice twisted in Bride's ears, leaving her unsure whether to feel grateful or unsettled.
The mention of "Dalet" was unfamiliar, but the word "healing" made her acutely aware of an unfamiliar comfort in her body.
Right enough, she slowly raised her hands, flipping them over as though searching for something. The scars, burns, and bruises that once marred her skin were nowhere to be seen.
Curious about the rest of her body, her gaze traveled downward. That's when she noticed the clothes she was wearing.
"Oh, by the way," the girl in front of her said casually, breaking the silence, "when I found you, you were, well... naked. So, I lent you some of my clothes. I hope they're comfortable."
A pink set of pajamas—identical in style to the ones the girl was wearing, only in a different color.
In response to the girl's question about comfort, Bride hesitantly brushed her fingers against the soft fabric. Only then did she fully realize the sensation against her skin, as if it needed to be pointed out for her to truly register what her body was experiencing.
Her fingers slowly traveled over her body, before pausing at a particular spot—the only area that felt slightly uncomfortable—Her chest.
"T-Tight..."
"..."
The girl's crimson eye narrowed as a small vein pulsed on her forehead.
"I was wondering why those pajamas felt so... betrayed when I handed them over. Turns out, they're fighting a losing battle..."
Bride blinked, her confusion evident. "...H-Huh?"
"Oh, my."
In response to Bride's bewilderment, the girl leaned back slightly, her palm coming to rest softly against her lips.
"How impolite of me."
The displeased look that had briefly crossed her face melted away, replaced by her usual playful smirk.
"My apologies, spirit-san. That was a rude thing for me to say..."
She waved a hand dismissively, her tone shifting back to a casual, teasing cadence.
"Anyway... as I said before, I've already paid too much to gain anything by harming you. I'm not asking you to trust me—just don't act like I would eat you If Iam around you, okay?"
Bride Didn't give an instant response, instead, her eyes swept across the room, scanning it uncertainly before slowly returning to the girl. She hesitated but eventually gave a small nod.
"Ufufu, now we're on the same page, Miss Spirit-san." The smirk on the girl's face widened ever so slightly. "I have a few questions for you, but before that... I imagine you've got just as many, if not more, of your own, right?"
She rose slowly from the chair, and Bride's eyes followed intently, unable to look away. The girl placed a hand on her chest,
"I'll start by introducing myself..."
As the words slipped from her lips, her form suddenly shimmered. An almost imperceptible shift filled the air, the atmosphere thickening, and the light in the room dimmed subtly, as though it feared reaching her.
"My name is..."
The shadow at her feet stirred to life. Its edges rippled unnaturally, as though it were breathing, before it began to expand. Slowly, it unfurled, creeping outward and curling around her form like a living shroud.
Her pajamas dissolved into countless black feathers, scattering briefly before converging into an intricate black-and-red gothic dress.
Crimson ribbons traced through the design, faintly glowing in the dim light, while delicate lace patterns adorned the bodice and sleeves. The hem of the dress swayed unnaturally, caught in an invisible breeze that seemed to exist for her alone.
Her right eye gleamed with a golden clock face, its hands ticking ominously, while her left remained a deep crimson, brimming with cold intensity.
"Kurumi Tokisaki—and I'm a Spirit, just like you~"
The Nightmare—stood fully revealed, her lips curving into a sly smile as her voice, dripped with playful malice.
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(A/n): Chapters up to 25 are now available on mznovels. com.
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