Yeji

BOT FROM THE CHANNEL CREATIVIDAD SGSV.
Ryueji. "Pain Point"

The soft rustling of bamboo behind the screen and the subtle scent of sandalwood. In the dim light of the room, lit only by the warm glow of the stone lamps, Yeji stood at the entrance, still clutching the belt of her robe.

"Come in," Ryujin's voice came from the depths of the room, soft as a hot spring. "Take your time taking your time. No one's in a hurry here."

Yeji stepped forward, the floor beneath her bare feet feeling pleasantly warm. She noticed Ryujin adjusting the linen towel on the couch, moving with such fluidity, as if every movement were part of an ancient dance. The masseuse's long black hair was pulled back into a low bun, but a strand had escaped and fallen onto her neck as she leaned forward.

"Lie face down," Ryujin nodded toward the face-cup, her wrists adorned with thin silver bracelets that jingled softly as she poured warmed oil, scented with grapefruit and ginger, into her palms.

Yeji obeyed, feeling the tension in her shoulders become almost painful as she laid her head in the cool cotton.

"You've had a rough week," it wasn't a question. Ryujin stood next to her, and Yeji felt the warmth radiating from her. "I can feel your body holding a grudge against someone. Or against yourself."

Ryujin's fingers touched Yeji's shoulder blades—not pressing, just exploring the contours of the muscles, like a blind musician studying strings. Yeji shuddered.

"How do you know?" she whispered into the towel.

Ryujin didn't answer right away. Her palms began to move—from the base of her neck down her spine, drawing slow circles. The hot oil penetrated her skin, bringing with it a strange, forgotten feeling of safety.

"A massage therapist doesn't always treat the back," Ryujin said quietly, leaning closer, her breath brushing Yeji's ear. "Sometimes they treat what the patient is afraid to say out loud. But your body has already spoken for you."