Chapter 4 Gentle Hand Movements

• My sweat was pouring, sticking to my skin like a clingy layer, and I decided to head back to my room to shower. My body felt heavy, every inch grimy after this long day—from the sweltering city journey, the sweat on the balcony, to the mounting tension every time Sis Elin was near. I craved freshness, to feel clean, especially since she was no longer around, giving me a brief moment to breathe easier, if only for a while.
• I left my shirt off, crumpled on the floor, and grabbed only the towel Sis Elin had shown me earlier, stored in the small room’s wardrobe, a thick white towel with a faint lavender scent, far too luxurious for a village boy like me.
• I walked toward the bathroom door, my feet moving slowly on the cream carpet that muffled sound, but my steps halted when I heard the trickle of water from inside. I frowned, confused. This room was mine now, so who was in there? Cautiously, I pushed the door, but it was locked, the handle cold in my hand. What’s this? I thought, my heart starting to race.
• A few seconds later, the door opened on its own, and I froze, my breath catching in my throat. Sis Elin stood before me, wearing only a white towel folded above her chest, its lower edge barely covering her thighs. Her wet hair clung to her shoulders, droplets of water gliding slowly down her skin, glistening under the bathroom’s light, her wet lips almost beckoning me closer.
• My eyes couldn’t blink, locked on her skin, far whiter than the calves I’d seen at the stall, soft, like silk freshly touched by water, every inch radiating a glow that made me forget how to breathe. My heart pounded, but before I could move, her hand suddenly pushed my face back lightly, her cool fingers brushing my cheek.
• “What’s up, Riko?” she asked, her teasing tone clear, though there was a slight tremor in her voice as if she felt the same tension but chose to hide it.
• I snapped back to reality, quickly averting my gaze to the wall, the carpet, anywhere but her. My face burned like it was on fire. “N-nothing, Sis,” I stammered, my voice sounding like a kid caught stealing candy. “But… why are you showering here?” I forced the words out, hoping to regain some control over this increasingly incomprehensible situation.
• “The bathroom in my room is broken, so I borrowed this one,” she said casually, stepping out, her towel swaying slightly with her movement, revealing the smooth, white curve of her legs again as if deliberately tempting me. It made my head spin for a moment.
• I stared at her back, my brain struggling to process her excuse, like a wheel stuck in mud. Broken? Really?
• In a house this luxurious, the bathroom just breaks like that? And even if it was true, weren’t there other rooms she could use? I shook my head slightly, choosing not to fully believe her, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it. The image of Sis Elin, white towel, wet skin, and hair clinging to her shoulders already haunted my mind. I entered the bathroom, locking the door tightly until the click sounded clear, and for a moment, I felt safe, at least from her presence.
• Cold water poured over me from the large wall-mounted shower, its flow like gentle but forceful rain, washing every inch of my skin. I closed my eyes, hoping the water could cleanse my thoughts too, but it was futile. The image of her white skin, the towel barely covering anything, kept replaying in my head, like a movie on an endless loop. And damn it, my body reacted, I felt myself harden. “Damn, it’s like this,” I muttered to myself, ashamed but unable to deny it. I was a normal guy, just twenty years old, and what I’d seen was too powerful to ignore, too real to forget. With trembling hands, I grabbed the soap from the glass shelf, its soft foam gliding over my skin, and I scrubbed longer than usual, trying to release the nagging tension, trying to remind myself that she was my “adopted sister,” not a woman I should think of this way.
• After showering, I hurriedly put on a clean shirt and pants from my backpack. The fabric was rough compared to the luxury around me, but at least it made me feel like myself again. I was afraid Sis Elin would barge in suddenly, as she seemed to do, appearing without a knock, without warning, like an unpredictable breeze. And sure enough, before I could catch my breath, the room’s door opened with a soft creak, no knock. I flinched, my body tensing, but the figure standing there was no longer the “stall lady” I’d met this afternoon under the tin roof.
• Sis Elin looked like a 25-year-old woman, far younger than my initial impression. An oversized K-pop-style shirt draped over her body, loose but somehow still hinting at the subtle curve of her waist, paired with tight shorts that hugged her legs, showcasing her glossy white thighs and calves under the room’s light. Her hair was still slightly damp, its ends dripping tiny beads of water onto the floor, and her smile was younger, more dangerous, like a cat that knew its prey couldn’t escape. I swallowed hard, transfixed by her beauty, my heart racing again.
• “What’s up, Sis?” I asked quickly, my voice hoarse, trying to fend off the impure thoughts creeping back like stubborn weeds.
• “I forgot my phone in the bathroom,” she replied casually, stepping inside, her steps so light they barely touched the carpet, heading straight for the bathroom door. Her oversized shirt swayed gently, revealing a glimpse of her hip, and I forced my eyes to the wall, hoping to keep myself in check.
• At first, I didn’t think much of it—maybe she really forgot, maybe it was just a coincidence. But when she came out, phone in hand, the small smile on her face turned into an odd, amused giggle, like a kid who’d discovered a secret. She looked at her phone’s screen, her fingers brushing it gently, and panic surged through me, like a heavy stone dropping in my chest. What was she looking at? Could it be… she recorded me? The thought chilled me. While showering, I hadn’t checked anything, too caught up in my own thoughts, too fixated on the lingering image of Elin. If she’d really recorded me, that meant she had a video of me… God, I couldn’t bear to think about it, couldn’t imagine what would happen if it was true. My face burned, shame mixing with fear gnawing at my gut.
• “You’re so cute, Riko,” she said suddenly, her cheeks flushing as she glanced at me, her eyes glinting in a way that made me even more uneasy. Then, without further explanation, she turned and left the room, her steps light as if she carried no weight, the door closing with a soft creak behind her.
• I stood frozen, shame scorching my face, like fire blazing under my skin. If my suspicion was right, this was a nightmare, not just because of the embarrassment but because I had no idea what she’d do with that recording if it existed. I didn’t dare to chase after her and ask outright, how could I? Accuse someone who’d given me a place to stay, food, and kindness, even if that kindness was starting to feel like a spider’s web? But staying silent felt like surrendering to fear, like letting myself sink deeper into a game I didn’t understand. Finally, I chose to step out onto the balcony, seeking fresh air to calm my tangled thoughts.
• It was already dark, the sky above the complex dotted with faint stars blinking weakly, like lights running out of power. The night breeze brushed my face, carrying the faint scent of flowers from the yard below, but also something else, reminding me of the padlock at Elin’s stall. I leaned against the glass railing, the grand houses in the distance looking like small palaces, their lights twinkling like jewels. But their beauty couldn’t erase the unease in my chest, couldn’t stop my thoughts from circling back to Elin, her smile, her laugh, and the phone that might hold my secret.
• I strolled along the balcony, just wanting to take in this luxurious house, trying to distract myself from the chaos in my head. My feet moved slowly on the cool floor, my hand brushing the slick glass railing, letting the night breeze caress my skin. But my steps halted as I passed Sis Elin’s room.
• Her large glass window and balcony door were wide open, no curtains drawn, revealing everything clearly, like a stage deliberately set. I froze, my breath catching in my throat. Sis Elin sat on a small sofa in her room, but her position… one leg was propped on the sofa’s armrest, her oversized shirt slightly lifted, exposing a smooth, white thigh that gleamed under the room’s light. Her hand moved slowly, gently up and down, the motion subtle but unmistakable, while her other hand held her phone, her fingers brushing the screen in the same rhythm. Though her back was to me, I knew what she was doing, and it made my heart nearly stop.
• I glanced at her phone, and my worst fear was confirmed. On the small screen, I saw a faint image of myself, a recording from the bathroom, my silhouette through the steam, and movements that no one should have seen. The world seemed to stop spinning. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, and my legs felt glued to the floor. Shame, anger, and fear swirled into one, like a storm raging in my chest.
• But before she noticed me, I hurriedly stepped back, my movements quick but careful to avoid making noise, my trembling legs slipping on the floor that suddenly felt too slick. I returned to my room, locked the door tightly, and threw myself onto the bed, my breath ragged.
• I stared at the ceiling, my thoughts a mess like a painting scribbled over without pattern. What did Sis Elin really want from me? The kindness she’d shown from the start—the small stall with its tin roof, the “renting” offer, this grand house, the “adopted brother” status, all felt like a mask now, like a web carefully woven to trap me. I was like a mouse caught in a cat’s game, with no idea where to run. I closed my eyes, hoping sleep could save me, but in the darkness of my eyelids, Elin’s face lingered, smiling, with eyes that knew too much and a phone that held my secret.