Capítulo 11: Chapter 11: Good Dog
Rika moved slowly on the futon, her eyes heavy as they opened. Her gaze wandered around the room, noticing that it was impeccably organized. A small window revealed the darkness of the night outside. As she looked forward, her eyes met something that sent a chill down her spine: a pair of glowing golden eyes piercing through the shadows. She was already familiar with that gaze—those golden circles belonged to Makima, who was staring at her with unsettling intensity. Without saying a word, Makima slid beside her, covering herself with the blanket as well.
Rika blinked, confused. "This is my room," Makima murmured softly, as if it were a mundane fact. "I woke up in my parents' room. I don't like being with my mother, so I left," she added. Rika nodded slowly, unsure of how to respond.
"Rest. If I feel better tomorrow, I'll teach you how to use cursed energy," Makima said, closing her eyes calmly, as if tomorrow was just another day.
Rika tried to sleep, but her mind wouldn't stop racing. Makima's presence was overwhelming, making it hard to relax. Still, exhaustion slowly overtook her, and she drifted off.
Hours later, Rika woke again. Through the window, the sky now had the soft hues of dawn. She sat up slightly, surprised by the early light.
"In a few minutes, we'll leave," Makima's voice startled her. Rika turned to her in confusion.
"Weren't you asleep?" she asked, still groggy.
"I don't need sleep. I just rest my mind," Makima replied, her voice calm but filled with mystery. Before Rika could fully grasp her words, the door swung open suddenly.
A young man, around twenty years old, stormed into the room with a scowl. He had dark blonde hair and golden eyes, identical to Makima's, though his gaze was filled with restrained anger.
"Makima... where the hell did you go?" he asked, clearly irritated. His tone was harsh, but his expression quickly shifted when he noticed Rika, a girl who looked about the same age as his sister. "Who's this?" he added, sounding confused.
Makima opened her eyes and looked at her older brother calmly. If there was anyone she had any semblance of affection for, it was him. After all, he had taught her many things and continued to do so. She stood up from the futon with her usual grace and, without hesitation, replied:
"She's my new servant," Makima said, her voice authoritative. "And mind your language around her, will you?"
Her brother glanced at her, assessing her condition. She seemed fine, though a little distant, her expression muted. "Fine," he relented. "I'll see you later in the dojo if you're feeling up for practice," he added, turning to leave.
Left alone with Makima, Rika tried to process what had just happened. The word "servant" echoed in her mind, making her feel strange. She knew that if it weren't for Makima, she'd likely be dead. But she couldn't help but wonder if death might have been the better option. Before those thoughts could settle, a sharp pain shot through her head, erasing any doubts. Only emptiness remained, as if something inside her had blocked those rebellious thoughts.
"Come, I'll give you proper clothes," Makima said, breaking her reverie. "If you're going to be my dog, people need to see that I take good care of you."
Rika followed Makima in silence, her emotions dark and confused. She didn't know if this new life was better than death, but something inside urged her to keep going, to submit. Makima was her master now, and any thoughts to the contrary seemed to vanish as quickly as they arose.
Makima rummaged through a box in the wardrobe, carefully pulling out several pieces of clothing before settling on one in particular. Her sharp gaze inspected the fabric, assessing every detail before turning toward Rika.
"Strip," she ordered, her voice calm but commanding. Rika blinked, surprised by the sudden command, but began undressing. With trembling hands, she let her clothes fall to the floor, until she was left in her underwear. Her heart pounded; the situation was uncomfortable, but Makima's power made it impossible to disobey.
"I said strip," Makima repeated, this time her eyes fixed on Rika's remaining undergarments.
"Eh?" Rika mumbled, confused, but the weight of Makima's gaze made her comply immediately. She took off her last piece of clothing, standing completely naked. She felt vulnerable, exposed in front of Makima, but the latter remained utterly unfazed. It was as if Rika's nakedness was no more significant than the breeze outside.
With the same icy calm, Makima approached and handed Rika a pair of new panties. "These are new," she said casually. Rika quickly put them on, trying to cover herself as fast as possible. The fabric felt strange, but it was far better than being completely bare.
"Come," Makima said as she selected a kimono. The garment was dark and elegant, made of black silk with intricate lotus flower patterns in silver thread, and a deep crimson obi that almost blended into the black fabric. The kimono exuded an air of mystery and refinement, perfectly matching Makima's commanding and sophisticated aura.
"Have you ever worn one of these?" Makima asked, holding the kimono out to Rika. The girl shook her head, embarrassed, her skin still flushed from the situation. Without missing a beat, Makima began to dress her.
First, Makima smoothed the sleeves of the kimono with precise, almost ritualistic movements. She slid the fabric over Rika's shoulders, carefully arranging the layers to drape perfectly over her body. Then, with skilled hands, she wrapped the obi around Rika's waist, pulling it tight enough to be secure but not uncomfortable.
Every step was methodical, as if dressing Rika was more than just putting clothes on her—it was a ceremony. Rika stood silently, letting Makima's expert hands guide her. There was a strange comfort in being cared for so meticulously, even if it came from someone so cold.
Once finished, Makima paused to inspect her work, her golden eyes glowing with an unreadable intensity.
"You belong to me now," she stated, her voice calm and emotionless. "When I tell you something, you obey. If you do something wrong, you'll be punished. If you do something right, you'll be rewarded."
Makima let the words sink in before gently patting Rika on the head, a gesture that felt both patronizing and oddly comforting.
"You tried to protect me from Gojo," she continued softly. "Even though it was impossible, you still tried. That's what a good dog does."
Rika's eyes widened, surprised by the praise, and a warmth spread across her cheeks. Makima smiled, a cold, calculated smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, yet seemed sincere in its own way.
Blushing, Rika felt a strange sense of contentment. Despite everything, despite the fear and confusion, she found herself thinking that being Makima's dog might not be so bad after all.
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