DRIP DROP. DRIP DROP.
The downpour was disturbing, and I was sure beyond all doubt that if I had left Lenora there until today, she might not make it. I tilted my head to find a young white-haired girl stirring from sleep. She was a mess. Well, not completely—I had removed her mud-stained maid dress and she now wore a more comfortable nightgown I had gotten from one of the rooms in the mansion. It was a thin-fabric oxblood dress, quite oversized for her, but there were barely better options in that wardrobe.
I helped her wash up in the bathtub. She was down with a really bad fever, so she barely knew where she was. So I helped her bathe. Yes, I did. After the bath, I was stuck in the dilemma of underwear—all I found in that wardrobe were slightly too big for her. I had to do something since I couldn't just leave her bare under the nightgown. Yes, it was to save her from the degenerate that was within me, the subconscious habits Anderson had carved into his very being.
To be honest though, I had complete control over my body even after ridding her of her clothes and seeing her bare—as she had come into this world. It was as though she was a line Anderson had promised himself never to cross. Which solidified my belief that she was really special to him.
So back to the underwear dilemma. Well, I gave up at some point. I instead just washed the previous one she had on—quite a difficult task to do with this godforsaken mess of a body—but it was still wet, so I couldn't have her wear that. I tried putting one of my shirts on her... and it wasn't because I wanted to. I had no choice.
From my memories of Larson, he loved when his girlfriend(s)—depending on the lifetime—had his shirt on. He liked seeing them snuggled into an oversized shirt, which I won't lie... wait, "I"... Sigh. This is getting weirder by the day. I don't really see myself as Larson, but I am him. It must be the effect of Lumiea's memories. Wait, "MY" memories as Lumiea... Sigh. Well, back to the story. Larson's weird fetish aside, I could already picture her in an oversized shirt which, from my point of view, would look quite cute on her. But... yeah. My shirt wasn't just oversized for her—it might as well be a blanket.
Tsk.
That was why I had to scour the whole mansion for a dress she could be comfortable in.
"Don't move," I said with a firm, stern voice. I was really mad at how careless and foolish she was. How could she sacrifice herself for such a worthless existence as myself? Yes, I have decided to accept Anderson as myself as well. I will take all his faults. I took his body—it's only right I accept who he is. But that doesn't mean I will remain the mockery he was. I will be better. The best version of himself that can ever exist. So yes, I, as of this point in time, am still a worthless existence, though I intend to change that.
"...M-Master?" She looked quite shocked after realizing she was on my bed, and not to forget that she had been dressed. It wouldn't take a genius to understand I was the one who dressed her. After all, aside from that sneaky maid who often comes to make my meals, I am the only one here. Speaking of the sneaky maid, I caught her this evening. It was quite fortunate too, as she had tried to dodge, but I was "quick" to call her out... well, not quick enough. But realizing I had already seen her, she didn't bother running.
Suddenly, Lenora looked at me and tried to get up.
"Ah!" She held her forehead, which I had given a chop to. Don't underestimate these big hands.
Hm. Her whole apathetic front is completely broken. She just looks like a normal girl now.
"If you move, I will... Well, I will... hm, what will I do...?"
"...Punish me?"
"Yeah, I will... wait, why does it seem like you want that?" My eyes narrowed and she looked away.
This maid. Tsk. Even in Anderson's memories, she always seemed to have some weird power over him. He just tended to be toyed with by the maid and not notice it. Her impassive expression always made him fall into her word traps and just end up looking like a fool.
"...Lenora," I said, my expression serious.
"...M-Master?" she said, noticing my seriousness. Anderson had never given her this look before. After all, he was always the one who ended up getting scolded by her whenever he returned drunk.
But did that stop him? A capital NO.
Bro was just a degenerate. Tsk. I won't even bother trying to fix my reputation—it's a lost cause.
"Never, and I mean NEVER, EVER, sacrifice yourself and your well-being for someone else. Even if you must, not someone like me," I said with all seriousness. If there was a better word for scumbag and degenerate, that word was definitely fitted for Anderson.
Bro just let himself go.
"...Master?" She appeared shaken by my words.
"Promise me, Lenora. Promise me you won't ever again sacrifice your happiness and well-being because of some obligation you feel towards a person. Promise me you will prioritize yourself over anyone, even me," I said flatly.
"No," she said.
"Eh?"