Despite the heat from the stove that had burned through the night, the dawn air was cold enough to pierce my lungs.
I forced my heavy body up.
If not for Green Shark’s rough snoring from the bed beside me and Marmotte’s faint breathing, I might have mistaken yesterday’s battle for a dream.
Aside from a few scratches, I was the only one intact enough to be active the next day.
"Nngh..."
[Right Shoulder: Stab 22/30]
[Infection: Progressing]
[Right Leg: Stab 24/30]
Marmotte was clearly in bad shape...
"Snrrrk."
[Torso: Cut 29/40]
[Liver: Stab 17/20]
[Right Arm: Cut 27/30]
[Left Femur: Shattered 15/25]
[Right Foot: Mangled 19/20]
And Green Shark, snoring away with gusto.
For the record, she was far more seriously injured.
"She is alive, right...?"
Unlike me, they did not have prosthetics like a regenerative enhancer, so their recovery would be slower still.
Even at the most optimistic estimate, they would need several more days of rest.
But someone had work to do, so I went out myself.
"Who’s supposed to clean all this up?"
The carnage hidden by last night’s darkness was laid bare beneath the morning sun.
The yard was a complete mess.
Broken arrowheads and spent casings lay scattered everywhere, while dark-red stains had dried onto the rocks we had used as traps.
And above all, there were the things that were hardest to deal with.
[Saw Corpse: -4]
"Ugh."
The corpses of the Maru Raiders lay strewn across the cold ground.
The moment I saw those lumps of flesh, broken and twisted in every direction by Green Shark’s rough hands, nausea rose in my throat.
Stiff
I stripped the gear from the raiders’ bodies.
Cutting through hot blood and flesh had been tense enough, but I did not think I would ever get used to touching bodies that had gone cold overnight either.
The hunting clothes that offered decent camouflage in the grass, if not optical camouflage, along with their hand crossbows and mechanical bows, would make good loot.
The harpoon that had pierced Green Shark’s stomach was already leaning against one side of the house.
"Ugh..."
Even looking at the bodies of women stripped down to their underwear stirred no lust in me whatsoever.
...Actually, it would have been a problem if it had.
They looked as though they might suddenly fling open their eyes at any second, so I avoided even meeting their closed eyes as I piled them in a corner.
"This one..."
A raider’s corpse with several large holes in her stomach.
She was the one I had shot.
The mask pushing through the grass was vivid enough that I would probably see it in my dreams, but—
"Someone like her... hunts and sells slaves too?"
Behind the mask was a smooth, ordinary face, without any fearsome scars or harsh features.
No. Calling it beautiful would have suited it better. That lovely face lay dead, blood staining the corner of her mouth.
"One, two, three..."
Crash
I dug a hole in a secluded spot some distance from the settlement, downwind, and tossed them in.
I carried the bodies, turned over the blood-soaked earth, and cleared the remnants of the broken traps aside.
Animals might smell them and dig them up, but we had not exactly been close enough for me to worry about that much.
"The smell of blood..."
By the time I was done cleaning up, my body was soaked in sweat, and the raw smell would not leave my hands.
Even after washing in the nearby river and scrubbing my hands over and over, it would not come off.
.
.
When I returned home, warm air and a calming scent greeted me, so unlike the chill outside.
Yeah... the smell of home.
"Cough!"
I approached Marmotte, whose forehead was beaded with sweat. My clumsy work must have been to blame; she had developed a fever.
I had been sure I disinfected everything thoroughly. Had it gotten infected after all?
"Mmm... Polaris?"
Sensing my presence, Marmotte sluggishly opened her eyes.
Without her glasses, perhaps because she was so weak, her eyes looked much more delicate than usual.
"Stay down."
I stopped her as she tried to rise and carefully wiped the sweat from her forehead.
A faint red stain showed through the bandage around her shoulder. It looked like blood had seeped through.
With hands that were far from practiced, I began changing the bandage.
"Ah..."
I applied medicine to the hastily stitched wound and wrapped it in fresh bandages.
I could not help blaming myself, wondering whether I could have done better, but no amount of regret would ever be enough.
When I stroked Marmotte’s hair, apparently pleased by my cool hand after all that washing, her breathing soon slowed into a steady rhythm.
"Snrrrk! Hrrrnnng..."
"..."
Next was Green Shark, still deeply asleep.
Perhaps thanks to a Neanderthal’s powerful immune system, she had no fever, though her body temperature had always run a little high.
Every time I looked at the bandages winding across her stomach, my heart dropped.
That was where the thick harpoon had gone straight through her.
"Mmm..."
I dampened a towel and carefully wiped away the blood spattered here and there, along with the sweat beading on her skin.
Unlike Marmotte’s shoulder, Green Shark’s stomach wound had been sutured with skilled hands, but I changed its dressing as well.
Stroke, stroke
A strange emotion wrapped around my entire body.
As she usually did for me, I gently stroked her hair.
The fact that she showed no sign of waking despite all this commotion made it clear that, no matter how tough she was, the wound had been severe.
Grrrrumble—
I only had a moment to sink into sadness before Green Shark’s stomach let out a thunderous growl.
"Should I make food first?"
For Marmotte, maybe I should chop things up small and make porridge so it would be easy to digest.
Green Shark would probably like the finest, fattiest cut grilled up.
...Wait, since her stomach had a hole in it, should I do the opposite?
Sizzle—
The sizzling sound of meat cooking and the savory smell of melting fat began filling the house.
Before I knew it, the scent of preparing food had seeped into my hands as well.
The smell of blood I had thought would never disappear was surprisingly gone without a trace.
It was proof that life went on today, covering over yesterday’s tragedy.
Outside would still be cold and dangerous, but I vowed that at least within these walls, I would protect this warmth.
.
.
.
Green Shark slowly opened her eyes at the pleasant scent brushing past her nose.
But the sight before her was shocking.
"Ahh~"
"Ah."
Marmotte was practically cradled in Polaris’s arms like a baby, being fed.
"Hm."
"Eep."
At the sound from Green Shark’s nose, Marmotte froze completely, her mouth hanging open.
When their eyes met, she visibly panicked.
"N-no... this is... well."
Marmotte’s eyes darted about before she spoke.
"My arm is hurt! Yes! An arrow got stuck right in my shoulder! So it can’t be helped!"
"That is what she says."
Polaris gave a bitter smile and moved the spoon.
Marmotte, the embodiment of logic now that she had finished rationalizing it to herself, shamelessly accepted the spoonful.
Green Shark watched the scene in silence.
"Here. Green Shark, you should eat too."
A beautifully grilled piece of meat.
It seemed to be ribs, with the end of the bone wrapped so it would be easy to hold and gnaw on.
The neatly trimmed fat had melted evenly across the entire surface. It definitely looked delicious.
Green Shark took a huge bite out of it.
Munch, munch
But something seemed to be missing.
Meanwhile, Marmotte finished an entire bowl and lay back comfortably.
Then Green Shark suddenly had an idea.
What if the male who had carefully cooked food for her fed it to her?
"Ah."
"Yes?"
"Aah."
No one in her tribe knew it, but—
Green Shark was undoubtedly a genius.
-----
Today’s frontier-system average.
Nursing takes a surprising amount of labor too, not just surgery and treatment.
Isn’t this totally a romantic comedy?
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