The moment she stepped into the bathroom, Kyo quickly stripped off her clothes, tossing them aside in just a few swift movements.
The bathroom's window was set high on the wall, small in size, yet still allowing a sliver of outside light to filter in.
Unfortunately, the window wasn't positioned to face the setting sun directly. Only a faint trace of twilight managed to spill into the space, casting its glow at an awkward angle on a single corner of the ceiling.
It was as if that part of the bathroom had suddenly turned into a structure made of pure gold—radiant and luxurious, yet carrying the aged melancholy of dusk. The sight unconsciously drew Kyo's gaze.
This was exactly why, despite having a bathtub at home, Kyo had also bought an inflatable pool. That way, she could soak in water on the balcony while basking in the sunlight.
She kicked off her bathroom slippers, leaving them to the side, and stepped barefoot onto the cool tiles.
She had done the same at Soyo's house before—Kyo never liked wearing slippers in the shower. She preferred the sensation of her bare feet pressing against the damp tiles, where the residual water pooled slightly after the shower ran.
Whether it was the comforting warmth of hot water or the crisp coolness of cold water, feeling it directly beneath her feet always made the experience more vivid, more real.
She stepped into the small patch of light that the sun had managed to reach, planting her bare feet firmly on the ground. Her pearl-like toes tensed slightly, supporting her weight as she lifted onto the balls of her feet.
Stretching out, she extended her long legs, her slender waist, and her right arm—reaching for the light that shimmered in the air, forming shapes within the floating dust particles.
But light was even more elusive than flowing water. When she swiped her fingers through the air, all she caught was emptiness.
What am I even doing?
Kyo let out a self-deprecating chuckle, suddenly aware of how dazed she felt. The tension in her legs eased, and she let her feet settle back flat against the floor.
Thankfully, she was alone in the bathroom. At least no one was around to witness her zoning out like this.
She lowered her outstretched hand, but it remained empty.
Nothing gained.
Nothing changed.
"…Tch."
She clicked her tongue, frustrated with herself for drifting into such a hollow, negative train of thought.
…Heh. Maybe compared to the absolute numbness she once felt, this could count as a change too. Who says backsliding isn't a form of change? But still, Kyo much preferred moving forward.
Whatever. Better not to think about anything for now.
Might as well focus on taking a proper bath—wash away the dust and fatigue. Maybe afterward, she'd be able to forget these pointless thoughts, even if only for a little while.
Turning away, she switched on the showerhead. Before stepping into the bathtub, she needed to rinse off the dirt from her body—otherwise, she'd just be soaking in murky water.
For this pre-bath rinse, Kyo always preferred using cooler water.
Sure, it made her shiver a little, but that only made the next part even better—when her chilled skin gradually sank into the steaming hot bath.
That feeling, the slow transition from icy toes to warmth enveloping her entire body, from her feet all the way up to her neck…
It was almost addicting.
The instant the water poured over Kyo's body, she shivered involuntarily. The sudden chill didn't relax her—it only made her muscles tense.
She didn't force herself to loosen up, simply letting her body react naturally. After briefly rubbing herself down, she turned off the shower.
Finally, the moment she had been waiting for had arrived.
Just looking at the bathtub filled to the brim with water made her smile unconsciously. She couldn't suppress the curve of her lips, no matter how much she tried.
The closer she got to this moment of submersion, the more she could feel her body craving water. Even though she hadn't been thirsty before, an inexplicable longing surged within her.
With a sense of ritual, Kyo slowed her movements.
First, she dipped in one foot, testing the water like people do before stepping into a hot spring. But unlike a hot spring, the bathtub had depth.
She had to lift her leg slightly, her foot swaying gently in the air before her toes finally kissed the water's surface. Tiny ripples spread out, only to settle back into stillness moments later.
Then, slowly, she sank in—one body part at a time. As she lowered herself, the water's resistance pressed gently against her, massaging her skin.
The overfilled tub spilled over, sending waves cascading onto the floor with a satisfying splash.
To Kyo, even that sound was pleasing.
Everything felt quiet now.
There was nothing else to do—just immerse herself in the sensation of being submerged.
Steam clouded her vision, and wrapped in the warmth of the water, Kyo felt as if even her thoughts were melting, dissolving into liquid and seeping into the bath.
A strange excitement bubbled up inside her.
She wanted to… submerge her head, too.
Kyo caught herself before she acted on the impulse, but her eyes still grew increasingly dazed, unfocused.
The "excitement" she felt from absorbing so much water was, in truth, a deep-seated urge to release the emotions she had been suppressing.
Just like that time—when she had cried after drinking Taki's coffee. The next day, she had spent an entire morning slumped in a daze at the bookstore.
And now, it was happening again.
The frustration that had been piling up inside her broke free all at once, an overwhelming tangle of negativity.
In the end, all those chaotic emotions boiled down to a single question, embedding itself firmly in her mind:
Can I really change?
Ever since she started trying to fit in with others, had she actually gained anything from it?
From beginning to end, had she really improved at all?
Hadn't she just perfected the illusion?
She had faked it so well that even she had started to believe she was just like a normal person.
But in the end, both Raana and Sakiko had seen through her. They had pointed out, separately, that she still hadn't learned how to truly understand or process emotions.
Like scooping water with a bamboo basket… all for nothing.
…She actually kind of liked that phrase.
It had the word "water" in it, after all.
Maybe the only real change she had gone through was developing a love for water—for mixing drinks.
And even that wasn't something she had arrived at on her own.
The thing that pushed her toward it had been nothing more than a terrible, near-fatal accident.
Nothing gained.
Nothing changed.
How ridiculous.
Overwhelmed by negativity, Kyo's thoughts spiraled further downward.
If she couldn't move forward…
Then maybe she should just let herself fall back—
And drown in the pleasure that water gave her.