Ryokan in the Heart of Seoul (1)
I must've dumped cum and booze into Lee Chaewon's mouth for a good while. The moment Yoo Yeonhui downed her final shot, she tilted sideways and collapsed onto the floor with a thud.
"You okay?"
"Auuun…."
"She's really out cold."
I'd been worried she was pushing it too hard. Sure enough, Yoo Yeonhui's head lolled forward as she passed out.
"At least she didn't puke. That's a relief."
"Urk…!"
"Ah, shit."
I changed the blackout-drunk, unresponsive Yoo Yeonhui out of her clothes and hoisted her onto my back before heading out of the gopchang restaurant.
"Thanks for the meal."
"Come again~"
Leaving Lee Chaewon's farewell behind, I made my way to the main street. Time to get Yoo Yeonhui home.
"You're heavy."
"I'm not heavy!"
"You're awake?"
"Uuuugh…."
"Nope."
The sensation of her breasts squishing against my back. And because of those breasts, I could really feel the weight. As I muttered about it, Yoo Yeonhui snapped back reflexively like she was having a fit. I asked if she was awake, but there was no real reply. It seemed like an instinctive reaction to me mentioning her weight.
Why do women care so much about their weight? Just keep it at a decent level, that's all.
I called a taxi. One question nagging at me: Did taxis each have their own concepts too?
"Snap out of it before the cab gets here."
Otherwise, it'd be my place or a motel.
I rummaged through her wallet wondering if her resident registration address might be there, but no dice. All it had were various cards and her driver's license. The photo attached to the license showed her face just as it was now—proof she was always a beauty. Unless she'd gotten work done before getting her license. These days, they say girls get plastic surgery back in school, so who knows.
"When's it coming? I'm freezing my ass off."
"Cooold…."
It wasn't winter yet, but the night breeze was chilly. Not skin-splitting cold, but lingering out here too long would definitely mean catching a cold. Still, Yoo Yeonhui was a comfort. Crouched on the windy roadside with her on my back, she helped in several ways. She blocked the wind, and the breasts pressed against me kept the blood flowing nicely.
"3252… 3252… Is that it?"
I kept repeating the cab's number to myself when I spotted one approaching from afar. As it drew closer, I confirmed the plate.
"Yup."
The taxi pulled up, the driver rolled down the window, and asked for the phone number.
"9649, right?"
"Yes. That's me."
I answered while shoving Yoo Yeonhui into the back seat. In the process, my hands brushed her ass and thighs and such, but it was unavoidable. And it wasn't all that exciting anyway. I'd already stripped her naked back at the gopchang house, committed that body to memory, and groped it plenty while changing her.
Tap tap.
"Wake up a bit."
"Hngh…."
"Should I take you to a nearby motel? I know a good one."
I sat in the back with her, tapping her cheek to rouse her, but no dice. With no other choice, I took the driver's suggestion and asked him to drop us at a close motel.
So taxis don't have their own settings.
Makes sense—if they did, every car on the road would have different common sense applied.
"I wonder what kind of concept the motel has…."
"The one we're heading to? It's super clean and nice—brand new. Plus…."
The driver must've overheard me, because he started explaining the motel. Midway through, he trailed off, glanced at Yoo Yeonhui in the rearview, then continued.
"They give you good condoms, not the cheap shit. Haha."
"Sounds like a great motel."
"Right? It's got a good rep among you young folks."
Not particularly useful info. No matter how nice the amenities, a bad concept makes for a bad motel. Say the concept was having to wear burlap sacks—what then? Even the cleanest place would turn you into a hobo quick.
"Here you go."
"Thanks, appreciate it."
"Sure thing~ Have a good time~"
The motel the driver dropped us at looked genuinely nice from the outside. No tacky neon, and as he said, it had that fresh-built cleanliness.
"Still out?"
"Ung…."
"No helping it."
I piggybacked the still-unable-to-stand Yoo Yeonhui into the Ambite Motel.
What concept does this place have?
All the buildings I'd experienced so far had concepts I liked, but no guarantee it'd continue. What if it was some murder game where you had to kill someone? Not impossible.
But this motel clearly wasn't that. I could tell right away.
"What the hell…."
Instead, it was something even stranger.
"Why is Japan here?"
No matter how I looked at it, it was a ryokan. I'd seen them plenty in YouTube travel vlogs—the most common kind—so I recognized it indirectly.
"Uh… sumimasen?"
I called out in Japanese without thinking. Regretted it instantly, but the response made me sigh.
"Hai~"
"Fuck."
A Japanese woman. In a kimono. Right in the middle of Seoul, South Korea.
If this was its original state, I'd have heard about it. This had to be an extension of the bottomless office or wet-shirt gopchang house—definitely a building concept.
"Uh… heya wa, mada ari masu ka?"
I stammered out some half-assed Japanese. Roughly: "Do you have any empty rooms?" Who knew the Japanese I'd practiced for a potential trip would come in handy like this.
"Yes?"
But the reply was in Korean. My face burned with embarrassment—blood rushing to my head. Why was this in Korean? She'd understood sumimasen and replied in Japanese. Felt so unfair.
"……Do you have any rooms available?"
"Yes! How long will you be staying?"
How long….
Our company faithfully stuck to a five-day workweek. Tomorrow was Saturday. Meaning tomorrow and the day after were off—maximum two nights, three days here in this Japanese ryokan knockoff.
"Two nights, three days. Possible?"
"Yes, that's fine. For two people, two nights: 48,000 yen."
"Yen?"
"Yes."
"Uh… can I pay with this?"
Flustered by the yen quote, I handed over my debit card anyway. No way a place smack in Seoul would actually take yen.
"Yes, approved."
Bzzz~
My phone buzzed right as it processed. Checking it, there was an overseas transaction alert.
"Unbelievable."
"I'll show you to your room."
I stared at the card confirmation—yen payment in the heart of Korea—and couldn't hide my bewilderment. It wasn't just twisting people's thoughts and common sense.
"The bath is a mixed-sex onsen, so please be careful when entering."
"Mixed-sex onsen?"
"Yes, there may be other guests, so you might run into them."
This felt familiar, like something from a story.
"Is it a hot spring?"
"No, not a hot spring."
Not a hot spring, huh. Then the other trope that came to mind.
"So, the other guests are salarymen?"
"Pardon? No, it's a married couple."
"……As expected… so, swapping…?"
Given the concepts I'd seen so far, I could guess this place wasn't wholesome. And what unwholesome thing do you associate with Japanese ryokans? Adultery, obviously.
Office boss and you at a ryokan, secret sex behind hubby's back. Company retreat ryokan, secret sex with a coworker. Class reunion ryokan, secret sex with your first love. Ryokans were adultery central in adult stories.
I'm not actually dating Yoo Yeonhui, but still.
I should've woken her somehow and sent her home, come alone. Then I could've safely cheated with the other guests.
"Guess I'll have to keep a close eye on her."
"Here you are. Please rest well."
"Ung… where…?"
"Finally awake?"
How does she wake up only after we've reached the room? Was she awake the whole time, just pretending? Her timing was so suspiciously perfect it sparked reasonable doubt.
Since we were already here, I carried her into the room and laid her down on the neatly spread futon.
"Right… we came to Japan on a business trip…?"
"Is that the setup?"
"And work wrapped up early, so we decided to rest at a ryokan before heading back, but I got drunk…."
"Thanks for the explanation."
The only part matching reality was her getting drunk.
"Sorry, must've been a hassle carrying me all this way."
"Nah, it was fine."
The truth. A bit heavy, sure, but not too bad—and plenty enjoyable thanks to those breasts against my back.
Knock knock.
"I've brought your yukata."
The staff delivered yukata. Where the hell did they even get these? Then again, a wooden ryokan in central Seoul—why wouldn't they have yukata? Dumb thought.
"Whoa, my first time in a yukata!"
"Mine too."
"Let's change quick."
With that, Yoo Yeonhui took the yukata from the staff and headed to the next room over.
"Huh?"
She's not changing right here in front of me?