The sparrow blinked, caught off guard by the question. He didn’t speak right away. His brows furrowed slightly, as if sifting through sothing in his mind.
Then, finally, he said—
"You know, recently... you have a strange sll on you now."
The way he said it—quiet, cautious, almost hesitant—made Kaya’s gaze narrow.
Kaya’s brows pulled slightly together. Her forehead tilted in a soft crease as she asked, a faint note of confusion slipping into her tone,
"Sll? Do I... sll different? Like... maybe from dirt or sothing?"
The sparrow quickly shook his head.
"No, no—not your body sll. It’s not like sweat or mud. It’s more like..." he paused, searching for the right word, "a herb. A really bitter one. Like it’s stuck to you."
He glanced at her again, more cautiously this ti.
"It wasn’t there when we first t. But after that... it started coming off you."
Kaya looked at him for a long mont, her eyes unreadable. Then her gaze softened slightly—not outwardly, but inward. She closed her eyes, zoning out of the mont, slipping into her thoughts.
What the hell is he talking about?
Sll?
Sweat can sll strong if soone hasn’t bathed, sure. Soap. Detergent. Poor hygiene. Kaya knew all that. But she also knew her own body.
She never slled. Not like others did. Maybe it was her genes. Maybe sothing else. But her sweat never carried a strong scent—if any. She’d never even needed deodorant, not once in her life.
Even after coming here, through dust and blood and fights, she checked. Quietly, privately. She didn’t sll.
But now... hearing this?
A bitter herb?
From her?
Her brows furrowed tighter as she opened her eyes again, still quiet, still thinking.
"...Strange," she murmured to herself.
Then Kaya asked, her voice steady but laced with quiet intensity,
"Does it linger on all the ti? Or only sotis?"
The sparrow shook his head.
"No... sotis it’s mild. Sotis it gets really strong."
He paused, eyes shifting slightly before he added,
"Uh... you rember the mammoth thing? When the basent chasers ca after us? That night... the sll on you was stronger. Way stronger. But right now? It’s light. Still there, though."
Kaya didn’t reply right away. Her mind raced.
Sll...
First eting—nothing.
Then the sll.
She traced back the tiline silently—events, people, places. Her eyes widened just a fraction. Sothing clicked.
She turned toward the sparrow, her expression sharper now.
"Tell ," she asked, tone suddenly serious and pointed, "did it start after we went to the Rabbit Tribe?"
The sparrow tilted his head, thinking hard. Then his eyes lit up as he nodded quickly.
"Yes. Yes! After that, yeah."
Kaya leaned slightly forward, her tone tightening like a wire.
"So... you an—after we t Cutie?"
At that, her fingers clenched into a fist by her side, nails digging into her palm. Quiet fury.
The sparrow, still oblivious to her reaction, narrowed his eyes, running through his mory again.
"Yeah... yeah! After eting Cutie, I noticed that strange sll on you."
Kaya took a slow breath, then asked her next question carefully.
"Do you sll the sa thing from the Rabbit Tribe?"
He shook his head imdiately.
"No. That sll... it’s really bitter, really sharp. If you’ve slled it once, you rember it. But I haven’t. I’ve only slled it on you."
She stared at him, expression unreadable.
Then she asked one last thing.
"What about Cutie? Do you sll it on him?"
This ti, the sparrow paused. His brows furrowed. He squinted like the mory was there, just barely out of reach.
Then suddenly—
"Ah! Yeah! I slled it on him! Not on his body like you, though. One ti, when he was feeding —I slled it. On his hand."
Kaya didn’t move. Her body remained still, but the storm behind her eyes was starting to rise.
Then, with her face unreadably calm, Kaya asked another question—her voice almost too composed.
"After we ca from the rmaid Tribe... did the sll lessen?"
The sparrow’s eyes widened as if realization had struck him too. He nodded hurriedly, almost spilling his words.
"Yes—yes! After we ca back from that water fish place, the sll on you beca lighter!"
And this ti, Kaya knew.
She knew.
That quiet thought, the one that had been gnawing at the back of her mind since she arrived in this strange world—finally took form.
Why the hell... was she sleeping so deeply here?
Kaya had never been the kind to sleep with her guard down—not once in her life.
But ever since arriving, her body fell into these unnatural sleeps. Heavy, deep, undisturbed.
And in the middle of a dense forest crawling with predators? That wasn’t just unlikely—it was dangerous.
Back in her world, even the drop of a pen could wake her. But here... people had co close. She’d been touched, moved, shifted—without waking.
How?
And there was more.
The master of the rmaid Tribe had told her—their dicinal herb was strong. Strong enough to heal even a near-fatal wound in a short ti. So why... why was her injury still lingering after just a light fight? It was as if her body was healing... but sothing else was actively resisting it.
At first, she’d blad that damn "sister" rabbit—thinking maybe she had fed Kaya sothing off, sothing mildly toxic that was slowing down her body.
But now...
Now, after everything the sparrow had said...
That bitter sll wasn’t on her when she first ca.
It started after she t Cutie.
And it hadn’t left since.
It clung to her.
Which could only an one thing.
Sothing was wrong with that damn rabbit.
Just thinking about it made Kaya’s blood boil.
Yes, she never trusted anyone. Not truly. Not easily. But still... she’d had a sliver of faith in this one. In him.
With a low breath, Kaya covered her eyes with her hand and rubbed them slowly, wearily. Her fingers trembled just a little.
She was so damn tired.
Tired of this ga.
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