The Beautiful Girl I Accidentally Helped Who Has Somehow Become Attached To Me. - Chapter 42: Selfish Shower Time.

Selfish Shower Time.

Now a shower assist, after the massage…

I get that she wants to be completely clean, especially with her hair looking a little messy, but… does she really need to drag me into her shower routine?

Honestly, I’m starting to think she’s far too lacking in caution. It’s one thing to offer a massage, but this is crossing a line. Then again, I might just need to give up on expecting anything ‘normal’ from Mikami-san, who’s practically the definition of unconventional.

“I feel like you’re thinking something very rude.”

“…It’s just your imagination.”

“Hmm… I’ll get to the bottom of that eventually. For now, please take me over to that shelf. And carry me.”

“Why specifically carry you?”

“If I try to walk now, I’ll definitely cramp up in both legs. It’s risky.”

“You’ve really got an answer for everything, don’t you…”

It’s such an absurd justification.

But, to be fair, if she tries to walk, that possibility isn’t entirely zero, so I can’t completely ignore it.

Even if I’m 99% sure she’s bluffing, that 1% chance forces me to indulge her whim. I know I’m spoiling her, but… well, today, I am her butler, after all.

“Alright, alright. As you wish, milady.”

“The word “milady”… it has such a nice ring to it. Please, say it more often.”

“If you keep demanding things, I’ll have to send you back home as punishment, milady.”

“…Not to worry, I’ll crawl my way back if I have to.”

With no hesitation, Mikami-san relaxes into my arms, so I lift her in a princess carry, one arm under her knees and the other supporting her back. It’s not a far walk, but I’ve just given her all the justification she needed to avoid using her own feet.

The storage shelf—something she bought on our impromptu shopping date—is now right in front of us, and I move to set her down… only for her grip on my neck to tighten suddenly.

“Oii.”

“Five more minutes… no, make that two hours.”

“That’s way too long.”

“Alright then… how about eight hours?”

“…Why do you keep extending it?”

Look, Mikami-san, if you’re going to cling onto me so tightly that you’re trembling, you might as well just let go and spare yourself the effort.

And not to complain, but I’m still feeling some soreness from yesterday. I won’t say straight out that she’s heavy—it’s not like that—but with my current muscle endurance, I can only hold on for a few minutes, definitely not for hours.

So, please, understand that.

“Mmm, fine then. But remember, you owe me a redo later, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Just… hurry up and get ready, will you?”

“Oh, by the way, Kirishima-san, what’s your favorite color?”

“My favorite color? Hmm… I guess I prefer calm shades, so blue or black, maybe.”

“I see. I’ll keep that in mind.”

I was suspicious of why she suddenly asked about colors, but I answered without thinking. “I’ll keep that in mind” felt a bit cryptic… but I’d soon understand what she meant.

When she opened a drawer in the storage shelf and turned around holding something in each hand, my mind went blank.

“Between these two, which one do you like better?”

“…Uh… Mikami-san? W-what are you doing?”

“I’m asking which of these… you prefer.”

“I was more wondering why you’re showing them to me like this?”

“I mean, how else would you be able to give an opinion? Come on, don’t look away, Kirishima-san. Which one?”

“I… just put them away already. And close that drawer while you’re at it!”

Even just this exchange is way over my threshold.

Not only did she fill one of the storage drawers with her… undergarments without my knowledge, but she also felt perfectly fine pulling them out to show them off right in front of me. This doesn’t make sense in any possible way.

What is this, some form of torture? Did she just leave her sense of shame somewhere?

“Oh, would it be better if I actually tried them on for you?”

“I’m begging you… please don’t make things any more insane… Someone’s going to end up dead.”

“It’s just fabric, don’t exaggerate.”

“…If it’s “just fabric” to you, then don’t ask for my opinion in the first place.”

“…Well, let’s save it for an in-depth discussion next time.”

“I’m telling you I’m not interested!”

“Thank you! I’m looking forward to it.”

It’s happening a lot today.

For some reason, my refusal keeps getting twisted into agreement in her mind.

Why? It doesn’t make sense. This whole situation makes no sense.

Someone, save me.

***

Somehow, I managed to gather everything for Mikami-san’s change of clothes and a bath towel, and now here I am, blindfolded and standing right in front of her.

I thought I’d have her get changed and go in first, but she insisted, saying, ‘What if I fall while trying to change alone?’

Really though, how did she manage to change before coming over to my place?

Sighing, I help Mikami-san with her over-the-top demands like some spoiled noblewoman.

I hear the soft rustling of her clothes slipping off, and since my vision is covered, my hearing seems to have sharpened, making every sound—from the fabric to her quiet breathing—feel magnified.

“Ah, I… think I’m going to cramp up…”

“…You alright?”

“Whenever I lift my leg, it’s like a sharp pull… mind if I hold onto you for a sec?”

For a moment, I thought it might just be an act, but her voice sounds genuinely strained.

Mikami-san might have used it as a light threat, but if she were to really fall over while changing or in the shower, that’d be a problem. Honestly, seeing her collapsed by my doorway was enough to make my blood run cold.

It may be questionable for a guy and a girl who aren’t even dating to end up in this kind of situation, but given the risks, I can’t just ignore it.

“Are you changed?”

“I’m totally naked!”

“Don’t just say “totally naked.” Wrap yourself in a towel.”

“But since you are blindfolded, does it really matter?”

“What if the blindfold accidentally slips off?”

“…I’m fine with that.”

Please, show some concern. You’re a girl, aren’t you?

Why does she keep chipping away at my self-control like this…

“Alright, I’m wrapped in a towel.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

I take Mikami-san by the hand and lead her to the bathroom.

I might not be able to see, but this is my own bathroom; I know where everything is. I grab the showerhead and turn on the water.

“The temperature is about here. That okay?”

“Yes, that’s good.”

“Alright, then… here we go.”

After confirming the temperature with Mikami-san, I slowly pour the water over her head, letting it soak in.

Once her hair is thoroughly wet and smooth, I reach out for the shampoo.

“By the way… are you okay with me using the one I usually use?”

“Yes. In fact, I’m more than happy about it.”

“…Alright then.”

“It’s your scent~.”

I decide it’s best to say nothing.

Taking a bit more shampoo than usual, I wet it and lather it in my palms. Once it’s fully foamed, I gently massage it into Mikami-san’s scalp.

“Are you okay? Not too rough?”

“It feels wonderful. I really like your fingers, Kirishima-san.”

“Hearing that feels… a little embarrassing.”

Like during the massage, I wonder if my hands or fingers are really that good at this delicate touch.

This is my first time washing someone’s hair, let alone massaging anyone. I don’t know for sure, but… seeing her happy like this doesn’t feel bad.

“Does milady have any itchy spots?”

“Let’s see… around my belly button and ankle, maybe?”

“Uh… I meant on your head.”

“Chest area?”

“I said head!”

Is this how she’d behave even if she were at a salon? I’m doing my best to hold on to my sanity here, and yet Mikami-san seems determined to test its limits.

“Uh… could you do a bit more around my ear?”

“Here?”

“Ah… mm… yes, right there.”

Tracing around her ear with my fingers, I feel her shoulders shiver a little.

Repeating the motion, I realize it wasn’t just my imagination.

Maybe her ears are sensitive. As tempting as it is to tease her a bit more in payback, I’d rather not push her too much and risk something escalating. Better stop here.

“Alright, rinsing now. Close your eyes and mouth.”

Giving her a heads-up, I begin rinsing carefully so none of the suds get into her eyes or mouth.

Taking as much time as I did shampooing, I gently rinse Mikami-san’s hair. They say a woman’s hair is her crowning glory… entrusted with it like this, I feel a duty to finish the job right.

“Alright, all done.”

“Thank you very much. Now, would you mind helping with my body next?”

“…Yeah, that’s something you can handle yourself.”

“You won’t do it?”

“Of course not! But if anything really goes wrong, yell for me.”

Realizing I’d already exceeded my limit, I chose to retreat, no longer able to keep up.

I could hear Mikami-san muttering in dissatisfaction, but I decided to pretend I hadn’t heard a thing.

It’s fine. I did nothing wrong.

In fact, given the absurd situation, I responded plenty. If anything, I’d rather think I deserve some praise.