She wasn’t a fool—she didn’t know how deep this river went, and she wasn’t in the mood to find out the hard way. The water barely reached her knees, but it was enough.
She glanced around, then tugged off her white top, the fabric damp from sweat and dirt. She tossed it near the blazer on the rock but left her grey pants on. Who knew what kind of things lived in the water? Snakes. Leeches. Creepy river things. No thank you.
"Like they’d ignore my chest and aim for my legs?" she snorted softly to herself. Still—not a risk worth taking.
She stepped further in and took a deep breath.
Then, with a slow inhale, Kaya let herself fall forward, subrging fully beneath the water.
Silence.
The world vanished for a heartbeat—just the hush of river water pressing around her, the fleeting weightlessness, the cold drawing every thought out of her body. For one second, there was no sparrow, no noise, no stupid shoes.
Just water.
She erged with a gasp, hair slicked to her face, breath sharp, and eyes wide. A shiver ran down her back, but her face broke into sothing dangerously close to a smile.
It wasn’t peace. But it was close enough.
Kaya sighed heavily as she stood knee-deep in the river, the water rippling gently around her legs. She splashed it over her arms and neck, rubbing furiously, trying to scrub off the gritty, clinging dirt that had beco part of her skin these past two days.
"Damn it..." she muttered, frustration bubbling under her breath. "Not even a damn bar of soap..."
She rubbed at her arms harder, the grains of sand scratching at her skin. Her shirt had been a ss, her feet were blistered, her nerves frayed—and now this. Bathing without soap was nothing short of a personal nightmare. It wasn’t just discomfort—it was chaos for soone like her.
Believe it or not, Kaya was a clean freak. She liked her clothes crisp, her skin unsmudged, and her scent neutral—if not fresh. If it weren’t for her work dragging her through the dirt—literally—she’d be bathing twice a day without fail. But now?
Now she felt like she was fighting the river itself just to feel halfway human again.
She rubbed her side with a bit more force and let out another frustrated groan.
"Ugh. This is useless—"
"Ahem."
Kaya froze.
She turned slowly, half-ready to throw a stone or a death glare—whichever ca first.
Standing a few feet away on the riverbank was Cutie, his back politely turned to her, face angled just slightly away, but unmistakably him. One arm extended toward her, holding sothing small, wrapped in broad green leaves.
Her brow twitched. What now?
As Kaya unwrapped the large green leaves, a familiar scent rose up—clean, fresh, and earthy.
Her eyes widened slightly.
Inside, nestled within the folds, were several small green berries—crushed into a thick, grainy paste. A few seeds poked out stubbornly, still whole. The color, the texture, the scent—she recognized it instantly.
"No way..." she muttered under her breath.
This wasn’t just so random berry. It was natural soap—a plant-based cleanser she had co across during field operations, used when proper supplies ran out. Back then, she’d learned to make do with what nature offered. But to find it here, in this strange place...?
Her fingers hovered over the paste, her body still half-subrged in the river as she stared down in disbelief.
"...You have this here too?" she whispered to herself. Her voice carried a breath of wonder—so rare for her that even she caught it.
She looked up, toward Cutie, whose face remained turned toward the woods, his posture tense and awkwardly polite.
Kaya blinked once, then allowed herself a small smile—rare, genuine, brief.
"Where did you get this?" she asked, the smile still lingering in her voice, brushing the edge of sothing soft, sothing warm she didn’t want to na.
Cutie shifted slightly, his ears twitching. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, almost like he was relieved she recognized it.
"Um... I used to carry it," he admitted, voice gentle. "I found them near riverbanks when I traveled. So I... I used to pluck a few and keep them in my bag. Crush them when needed."
Kaya looked back at the leaf, then down at her hand, slowly rubbing the paste between her fingers. It lathered just slightly in the water—enough to clean, just enough to rember.
"Smart," she murmured.
Cutie stayed quiet, but the slight twitch of his tail betrayed the pride he tried not to show.
Kaya dipped her hand into the river and began rubbing the paste over her arms, watching the gri slowly lt away. The sand and dust loosened from her skin like tension from her shoulders.
As Kaya rubbed the green paste into her skin, it began to foam softly, bubbles gliding over her arms and catching the sunlight like silver threads. The gri and dust clung to the foam, slipping away with each motion of her hands. A smile tugged at her lips—relieved, amused, and just a little curious.
She glanced over her shoulder toward him.
"Where did you find this?"
He didn’t turn, but at the sound of her voice, she saw him shift slightly. He scratched at his cheek before answering, his voice quiet but clear.
"One day I was out looking for sothing to eat. I hadn’t had anything since morning. I saw those berries near a bush by the rocks—thought maybe they were edible, but It was horrible. Bitter as hell. Couldn’t even chew it properly. So I spat it out. "
"But I had to get back to the tribe quickly, so I just tossed the rest into my pouch and ran. Later... I think I must’ve dropped it or maybe leaned on it while working. They got crushed."
She resud gently rubbing the foam across her collarbone, letting his story flow.
"After a few days, I noticed my pouch slled weird... bitter, but not bad. I tried to wash it, and then... there was foam. So much foam."
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