“I’m back.”
The timing was uncannily precise.
The man who entered wore a well-tailored suit, his posture impeccably straight. His black hair framed a sharp, handsome face. The effortless grace of his movements and the economy of his gestures betrayed his military background.
(So this is… Saotome Keiichiro.)
Hina’s heart gave a tiny leap.
Though rumors painted him as “ruthless,” his expression was indeed stern upon meeting him. A faint crease marked his brow, and his unreadable gaze carried an air of inapproachability. Yet behind his silver-framed glasses, his eyes held a quiet intelligence and refinement that made Hina reconsider—perhaps he wasn’t simply a frightening man after all.
“My apologies. I didn’t realize we had a guest.”
Keiichiro’s voice was low and composed as he offered a polite bow, careful not to disturb the atmosphere, then moved to withdraw.
“Keiichiro, this is the apothecary we discussed,” Kiyoe interjected.
Keiichiro’s gaze shifted to Hina. Under the scrutiny of those obsidian eyes, Hina instinctively straightened her posture.
“I’m Fujita Hina,” she said, rising to bow deeply.
Keiichiro’s eyes widened slightly. “Ah, so you’re the one.” Though he couldn’t hide his surprise at her youth, his expression quickly smoothed into calm composure.
“Our business with Saotome Pharmaceuticals is concluded. Mass production isn’t feasible, it seems,” Kiyoe summarized.
Keiichiro nodded slowly. “I see… Thank you for coming all this way.”
“N-not at all…” Hina’s reply was barely audible.
“Keiichiro, the rest is up to you,” Kiyoe said, rising to leave.
With elegant steps, Kiyoe exited the parlor, leaving only Hina, Keiichiro, and the waiting head maid, Yamane.
Hina nervously lowered her eyes to the package on the table. “I… brought more medicine. I’m glad it helped your injury, Mr. Saotome.”
“Yes, thank you.” Keiichiro settled into an armchair with deliberate grace. His movements were efficient, his expression unreadable, his piercing gaze clear and sharp. True to rumor, his eyes revealed no trace of emotion.
(He really is intimidating…)
Just as she thought this, unexpected words reached her ears.
“…This medicine has given me considerable relief. To be honest, I’d like to secure a steady supply.”
Hina looked up, startled. The voice of the man reputed to be cold seemed to carry the faintest hint of warmth.
“I’m happy to be of service. But I prepare everything alone, and the ingredients are rare… I can’t produce much.”
Keiichiro nodded. “I see…” After a pause, he lowered his gaze slightly, as if considering something. “Yamane mentioned you live alone?”
“Y-yes…” Caught off guard, Hina’s eyes widened. Just meeting his sharp stare made her throat feel dry.
“…Perfect timing. How would you like to live and work at the Saotome residence?”
A ripple of surprise spread through Hina’s chest.
“M-me? At the Saotome…?” The abrupt proposal left her thoughts scrambling.
“Frankly… it’s troublesome to keep sending for your medicine.” Behind his glasses, Keiichiro’s eyes shifted slightly. Though he wasn’t forcing the issue, she felt an odd pressure to comply.
True, her home was kilometers away—a costly and time-consuming trip even by carriage. And with automobiles becoming more common, accidents weren’t rare these days.
“You could work as a maid while preparing medicine in your free time. You’re welcome to use the garden for herbs. The pay would be reasonable.”
Her heart wavered at the unexpectedly generous offer. For an orphan like her, live-in work was a godsend. It would solve her rent worries at once—and she wouldn’t have to fend off the landlord’s son anymore.
Yet the faces of neighbors who’d supported her since her parents’ deaths flashed through her mind. They relied on her medicine too.
When she voiced this concern—
“Then we’ll have our company deliver your medicine regularly. If we can keep your remedies on hand, that’s a small price to pay.”
“Why go so far for my…?”
Before she could finish, Keiichiro stood slowly and wordlessly began unbuttoning his dress shirt.
“Mr. Saotome, wh-what are you—?!” Hina averted her eyes, but they inevitably drifted back. His handsome features, tall and well-proportioned frame—as his torso was revealed, her cheeks burned.
“May I have your diagnosis?” His low, steady voice gently enveloped her flustered nerves.
When he turned, she gasped at the sight: a deep scar running diagonally across his back, likely from a sword. Without thinking, she reached out and lightly traced it.
Keiichiro’s shoulder trembled faintly.
“…Rain’s coming.”
“Eh?”
“When rain approaches, this scar always aches. Your medicine eases that pain.” Though his tone was matter-of-fact, the trust and gratitude beneath it reached her clearly.
“I see…” Hina pressed her lips together and nodded. “I have the medicine with me. May I apply it now?”
“Please…”
Earlier, she’d touched the scar in shock, but now, faced with the broad back of a former soldier, she froze. She’d treated injuries before—even as a child, trailing her parents on house calls. Yet she’d never grown accustomed to painful wounds or suffering. Imagining his agony made her shiver.
Taking a deep breath, she scooped ointment with trembling fingers. “P-pardon me…”
The moment the salve touched the wound, she felt Keiichiro inhale slightly. Belatedly, she realized her hands were icy from nerves. Rubbing them together for warmth, she noticed Yamane stepping forward.
“…Shall I take over?”
Perhaps the maid thought her incompetent. Ashamed, Hina shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”
Keiichiro glanced at Yamane. “Yamane.”
“Yes?”
“Could we have more tea?”
“Of course.”
With light footsteps, Yamane disappeared behind the door, leaving silence in her wake.
(Was that… his way of giving us privacy?)
Touched by his unspoken consideration, Hina felt a slight easing in her chest.
“…You haven’t answered me yet.”
At his sudden words, she flinched, pausing as she closed the ointment jar. Right—she hadn’t given her reply.
A flicker of hesitation remained. Could she really leave her familiar tenement to work in the prestigious Saotome household?
Yet Keiichiro had trusted her medicine. Resolving to honor that trust, she bowed.
“It’s… a generous offer. If you’ll truly arrange the deliveries…”
Keiichiro’s eyes narrowed—an expression that could be read as either gentle or testing. Hina wavered. The man before her didn’t match the “ruthless” rumors.
“Good. I’ll be counting on you.”
“Yes… Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Saotome.”
She didn’t know what awaited her. But if she could be of use—if her hands could support someone, even in small ways—
With that thought propelling her, Hina lifted her head, her decision made.