Turning Myself In
"I-if I made you uncomfortable, I'm sorry..."
"You didn't. I like it when someone calls me oppa."
The moment the words left me, I felt every gaze in the vicinity swing my way. I knew I ought to be careful, but how much more careful could I possibly be? Any further and I might as well have been told to shut my mouth entirely. Before I knew it, a long sigh slipped out of me.
"...Hah..."
The woman standing so close she was practically nestled in my arms clenched her hips all at once. I felt the sudden tension against my front. It must have been my breath.
"Ah, sorry. That just slipped out."
"N-no, I understand... It's stifling, isn't it...?"
"It's fine. Rush-hour buses are always like this."
With so many eyes on us, talking any further was difficult. Contrary to what Rahee and the others had fretted over, the women around me did seem to keep at least a minimum of distance—but stirring them up wasn't going to do me any good. When I fell quiet, the woman in front of me didn't know what to do with herself and started stealing glances at my face.
"...I'm sorry..."
"For what?"
"...Y-you suddenly stopped talking... If I did something wrong, I wanted to apologize..."
"It's nothing like that. Everyone's looking this way, so it's just hard to keep a conversation going."
The way every woman's head turned at the exact same moment was almost funny. Judging by the earbuds they'd tugged halfway out, their ears were still pricked in our direction. She seemed like a decent woman, and I was a little sorry I couldn't keep talking to her. It was the heat haze rising off the nape of the woman standing as if she'd settled into my arms. She'd drawn her hips in and felt my boy right against her, and that was why.
What am I supposed to do? It's not as if I can tuck it away somewhere.
Of course, every time it threatened to rise I'd whispered at it to settle down, more than once—but if she squeezed her hips like that, she was bound to feel it. Come to think of it, her lower body was quite long. She looked tall; the crown of her head sat near my nose, so she wasn't short. Shorter than me, and yet her hips nearly reached my front. The proportions were obviously good.
"...Um..."
"Yes."
"...Y-you have someone you're seeing, don't you...?"
"You're just going to ask that outright?"
"...I-I just... From the way you talk... you seem like you'd be popular..."
Watching the flush climb her cheeks, a playful impulse rose in me. I glanced around, then lowered my head, and her body flinched in surprise. I didn't particularly care. I leaned in and whispered at her ear.
"You're not even curious about my age, or my name?"
"...Hah..."
"Seems the only thing you're interested in is my body."
"N-no, that's not— hah..."
She must have thought she'd spoken too loudly without meaning to, because she hurried to cover her mouth. I figured I'd already crossed the line enough with that, and I had no intention of pushing her any further. The air around us was still fixed on me, but there was no particular stir. I'd whispered quietly enough that no one else had caught it.
Now there's a reaction.
Watching the heat haze bloom again and again, I felt an unearned little pride. But the teasing really ended there. I left the whisper hanging and silently pulled my phone back out. About twenty minutes left. Factoring in the transfer, I was going to be late. I'd just get off and take a taxi.
That was the moment. The driver must have missed a speed bump—the bus lurched so hard that screams rippled through the whole cabin.
"Ah!"
"Sorry."
"N-no, it's... ahh..."
I caught the overhead strap in an instant, but the woman who hadn't found her balance started to fall into my arms, and in my rush to catch her I ended up closing my hand fully around her breast. Her figure was far better than I'd expected. Somewhere between Hyunji and Rahee—beautifully balanced—but not honed by training the way Go Yewon's was. Much softer. And the way she filled my hand was anything but ordinary.
"...For touching— no. Th-thank you for catching me..."
"Don't mention it. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."
"I-it's fine... They're just... pointlessly big..."
She glanced back at me, and the face turned my way was full of worry more than shame. I was the one who had touched her, and yet she was looking at me like that—strangely stimulating—but I pressed the feeling back down again. Ordinarily I might have whispered that I'd liked it.
...Come to think of it, I wonder if Mirae's doing all right.
What had happened with Mirae on the subway still didn't feel real. That strange impulse hadn't come over me lately, but I never knew when it might return. I'd sworn, barely a week or two ago, that I would try not to let something like that happen again—and I had no intention of breaking that promise now, or later.
Hyunji's emoticon followed, and I smiled softly, closed the message screen, and opened a browser, thinking I might as well read the news. After a little while I felt the eyes around me drop away one by one. When I glanced around on the sly, most of them had looked away and put their earbuds back in. That was when it happened.
...Hm?
Something started squirming against my front. I looked down from the phone screen and found the woman before me wreathed in heat haze, breathing in heated little gasps as she fidgeted her hips.
...What?
I could admit the sight was provocative, but what struck me in that instant was how strange it was. There had to be such a thing as common sense—comforting herself in a public place like this? And not even with her own hands, but something closer to groping? If she'd been odd from the start I might have let it pass, but at first she'd seemed more rational than the other women. The flow of it simply wasn't logical. I knew desire didn't always explain itself in words, but still.
"Haaah... huuuh..."
This is a problem.
This was nothing like the subway. With Mirae, the layout had hidden us well enough that we could enjoy it. Here, I was the only man on the bus. The stares had thinned a little, but they were still gathered on me—if this kept going, I'd end up looking like the strange one, or she would be the one in trouble. It was only luck that the woman in the seat ahead of her was lost in a phone game with her earbuds in.
"...You can't do this."
"Ah, s-sorry... I'm sorry..."
Just barely—whispered as quietly as before—and she shuddered as if she'd been shocked, then rushed out an apology. It wasn't that I disliked it. Her looks, either. But I had little interest in casually getting involved with someone I barely knew. Seo Eunchae's situation had driven that home all over again. I was someone who had to take things in order.
"If anyone sees, it could become a problem."
"...Ah..."
"And I prefer to take things step by step. This sort of thing... isn't really it."
"...S-step by step...?"
"We don't even know each other's names."
At that, her eyes went round and she whispered in a rush.
"I-I'm... Kim Hanna..."
"I'm Lee Shinwoo. Try to calm down a little."
"Ah... I-I'm sorry, I'm just... I'm not myself right now..."
"In what way?"
"...Ah..."
Of course she wasn't going to answer as bluntly as Rahee or Hyunji would. Obviously. Even I wouldn't find it easy, in front of a woman I'd just met, to say I was turned on. From a woman's side, saying something like that was a fast way to get hauled off. Better to talk lightly and settle her down. I had no desire to see the police again over something like this. That last experience had been closer to unpleasant than anything else. I'd rather handle it myself.
"How old are you? I'm thirty."
"Twenty-one..."
Younger than I'd thought. And mature for her age. Was it the clothes? No—looking again, the clothes were a little young too. I'd been pressed so close I hadn't really taken them in. A slightly stretched vintage T-shirt and a skirt wrapped around her waist didn't feel like expensive fabric. If anything, the impression was casual and unfussy. No accessories, either. Even setting that aside, I would have guessed twenty-five. Her face was mature enough that she could have passed for older than Rahee.
"You're really young."
"D-do you not like younger girls...?"
"No. Age doesn't really matter to me. If anything, I was wondering if I'm too old."
"Ah, you're not..."
Only with that answer did I notice how young her way of speaking was. A hint of sweetness in it, a little spoiled, a little pleading. I could tell she'd stepped out into the world earlier than most her age, but the childish lilt that remained was oddly distinctive.
"You said you were heading to work. Where to?"
I steered us toward something as ordinary as I could. The fidgeting had eased a little, but I was breaking a sweat trying to calm the boy who kept straining to stand. Let my focus slip for even a moment and he would be up at once.
"...Well..."
"Ah, if it's hard to say, you don't have to."
"I-it's not that... It's just, lately I can't tell if it's a workplace... or what."
"I'm not sure I follow."
"...I-I'm a trainee..."
"A trainee?"
"...Yes..."
A bit short for a model. An idol, then? I wanted another proper look at her face, but that would be rude, and it might catch the eyes around us. Besides, these days an idol's looks were one thing, and skill mattered just as much.
"That's impressive. Then you really shouldn't be doing this, should you?"
"...I'm sorry... I don't... I don't really understand it either..."
When she shook her head, her straight hair swayed and released a faint scent of shampoo. The fresh smell of her skin drifted in with it, and for a moment I swallowed. Not the chemical bite of perfume or cologne—the clean, youthful scent of soap and shampoo. A hint of baby powder, too. Mirae rose in my mind again before I could stop her. And Kim Hanna, once the talk turned ordinary, seemed to be coming back to herself.
"How long have you been at it?"
"...It's already my seventh year..."
"Already? So since middle school?"
"Since elementary school."
"That's impressive."
"...It's not..."
The answer sounded humble, but the nuance wasn't humility. There was something depressed in it. Ah. I hadn't been considerate. Seven years of training, and she still hadn't debuted. Had I just hurt her instead?
"That was thoughtless of me."
"N-no. Of course you wouldn't know... It's because I'm lacking."
"I can't even see your face properly, so I don't know what to say."
"...Ah..."
Kim Hanna, who had let out a soft little sound at my words, bit her pretty pink lip. Had she only just realized what she'd done? She seemed to have her head back, at least.
"Are you a little calmer now?"
"...Yes... I-I'm sorry..."
I'd wondered if she was simply the type who followed her desires, but the conversation that followed didn't make her seem lacking. The touch of sweetness was charming, if anything, and once she understood the situation, the way she apologized wasn't bad either. Her character seemed decent enough. A slightly impulsive streak was only natural at her age.
"You don't have to apologize."
"...No... I'm so embarrassed... I'm sorry... You told me so gently, and I..."
She couldn't finish. Kim Hanna worried her lip between her teeth, her face full of shame and embarrassment. There wasn't a trace of blame toward me. If anything she looked a little grateful, and I smiled quietly and held my tongue. But what she said next left me a bit thrown.
"You're going to do what?"
"...I made a mistake toward you, oppa... so I should be punished..."
"...And that means turning yourself in?"
"I used to hate this kind of thing so much... I can't believe I did it..."
"And what exactly are you going to tell them at the police station?"
At my question she bit her lip again and lowered her eyes, and the look on Kim Hanna's face was heartbreakingly forlorn. The kind of expression that made me want to pull her into my arms before I even thought about it. And that profile—a hanbok would have suited her perfectly. I wanted to see her from the front, just once.