Underwear
If you asked the men of this world to name the most embarrassing place they'd ever set foot in, what would they say?
A swimming pool, maybe — where everyone, man or woman, walks around in next to nothing?
Or a public bathhouse, where at least it's same-sex only, but everyone still has to be naked?
Or (a genuine crime, of course) a women's locker room or restroom they'd stumbled into by accident?
…Or certain places shared with a partner?
Pulling the statistics on that would probably be entertaining, but the answers themselves didn't really matter.
Obviously — because everyone feels things differently.
A space one person finds mortifying might feel perfectly comfortable to someone else. Someone might even get embarrassed in the most ordinary, everyday places.
Everyone's different.
That's just being human.
"Welcome."
But there was one exception.
If someone asked me the most embarrassing place I'd ever been in my life…
"This is Lulus, a specialty lingerie boutique. Is there something you're looking for?"
I would answer without a second's hesitation: here.
The first women's underwear shop I'd ever walked into was wider, more luxurious, and far more mortifying than I'd imagined.
If I so much as lifted my eyes, there was lingerie. If I whipped my head the other way, there was a mannequin wearing lingerie. I couldn't raise my face at all.
Every single product on display was underwear, and every single employee was a woman. If there'd been even one other guy in here with his girlfriend, it might have taken the edge off — but right now, we were the only customers in the store.
"Um, I, well…"
At the same time, I knew I couldn't just stand here drowning in embarrassment. Cecilia's flustered, half-formed attempts at answering the clerk were reaching my ears.
I let out a small breath, steeled myself, and answered for her.
"Ah — for now, we're just looking around."
I fretted over whether I'd managed it without my voice shaking, but the clerk simply nodded once and took a step back. Her expression and her movements were both clean. The word professional rose unbidden.
"Of course. Please call me if you need anything."
I gave the tiniest of nods and steered Cecilia deeper into the shop.
"…Let's pick something fast and get out of here, Cecilia."
"Y-yeah."
For different reasons than mine, she clearly found the place just as uncomfortable. The frantic little nods of her head made her desperation plain.
"See anything you like? Color, design, fabric — anything."
"Hmm…"
She stopped walking. Faced with the sea of lingerie spread out before her, Cecilia made a thoughtful little sound. Her sky-blue eyes darted busily this way and that.
At the same time, a price tag flashed into view with a number that made me flinch —
…
I pretended not to see it.
Well. Necessary expense.
"I-I'll take this one."
A moment later, she picked up a pair of gray underwear in an extremely simple design. Soft-looking fabric, clearly comfortable — it was easy to tell what criteria she'd used.
"Great. That one, then. Size is…"
And the moment the words left my mouth, I froze solid.
……Size?
"…Cecilia."
"Hm?"
"…Do you, uh. Know your size?"
It was a slightly awkward topic, so I kept my voice low enough that the clerk wouldn't overhear. I knew it was a long shot, but I still hoped she'd say yes —
"…What size?"
…
Faced with that entirely predictable answer, I pressed a hand to my forehead.
What were we supposed to do now?
We couldn't just buy something without knowing the size, and we couldn't turn around and leave after coming all this way either. Even if I tried to figure it out myself, I didn't know how to take measurements in the first place.
And Cecilia, of course, wouldn't know either.
"How are we supposed to handle this…"
"Is there something you need?"
A voice from behind us made both of us jump and spin around.
It was the clerk — the same one who'd greeted us at the door.
"No, nothing. …Actually, wait."
And of course — this woman was a clerk at a specialty lingerie boutique. She would absolutely know how to take measurements.
"There is something I'd like to ask…"
Glancing at Cecilia standing tense beside me, I carefully opened my mouth.
"I've brought a measuring tape."
The clerk approached with a kind smile, and Cecilia's expression tightened with nerves. I gave her shoulder a light pat, trying to convey that she didn't need to be so scared.
"I'll show you this way."
With those words, a mirrored door swung open to reveal a fitting room inside — narrow, space-efficient, the ordinary kind you'd find in any clothing store.
"Ah, Eunhyuk…"
"It's okay. Go on."
I offered the still-visibly-tense Cecilia a warm word. She seemed to finish wrestling with herself and nodded once.
Following the clerk, Cecilia stepped into the fitting room. The door closed, and the soft shhk of a measuring tape being pulled free reached my ears.
"Excuse me."
"Okay…"
A brief silence followed, as if the tape were being held against her body. Then a soft, breathy little sound — haah — scrambled my thoughts.
"First, the top is ninety—"
At the clerk's voice, I hurriedly covered my ears.
That was not something I needed to hear. Cecilia knowing it herself was more than enough.
"—…"
"—. ——."
A muffled exchange of conversation drifted through. After another short wait, the mirrored door swung open.
"The measurements are done. I'll bring products in that size, so please wait just a moment."
"Uugh…"
The clerk bowed and left. Only Cecilia remained, her face faintly flushed.
"You okay?"
"…Sort of."
Sort of okay. Still, she didn't seem badly frightened, which was a relief.
"The products are ready. How many of each would you like?"
"Uh… five tops and five bottoms, please."
"Certainly. I'll assist you with payment. Please come this way for a moment."
"Ah, right. Wait here just a second, Cecilia."
Confirming her nod, I walked over to the counter.
"Silk lingerie, five tops and five bottoms. The total comes to this amount."
I stiffened briefly at the figure on the calculator screen, then pulled myself together and held out my card. Thankfully, I could cover this much. Years of careful saving paid off.
"Here you are."
"Thank you. …Hm?"
I took the paper bag of clothes and started straight toward Cecilia — or rather, I tried to.
"There's something I'd like to say for a moment, if I may."
If the clerk hadn't kept hold of the bag's handles, that is.
"…What is it?"
"Forgive me if I'm mistaken, but based on what I observed during the measurements, your companion isn't currently wearing any undergarments. Is that correct?"
…
Sharp. Or maybe it was only natural. She was a professional, after all. Figuring it out by feel during the measuring wouldn't be strange.
"…That's right."
"And given that she also has no idea of her own size…"
"Yes, that's right. She's got some… unusual circumstances…"
It was the only vague answer I could give. Half-baked lies wouldn't work on someone like her.
"…Could you keep this private?"
Still, it wasn't the kind of thing you wanted strangers digging into. Almost no one would jump from "doesn't understand underwear" straight to "otherworlder," but there was always a chance. The fewer people who knew, the better.
When I made the request, the clerk's face settled into a smile that was both professional and warmly human.
"Here at Lulus, we take our customers' personal information very seriously."
A professional smile. There was no other way to put it — the good kind of professional, the kind that put a customer at ease and left them satisfied.
"I won't tell a soul. Of course."
"…Thank you."
I bowed my head and accepted the paper bag. Even with the lingering embarrassment of being in a lingerie boutique at all, I felt a strong conviction that this was a good shop.
"Have a nice day."
"We look forward to your next visit. Please enjoy the rest of your day."
I didn't need to say it out loud — if we ever needed underwear again, I was pretty sure we'd end up back here. Even if the prices were steep.
"Did you buy them?"
"Yeah. Paid for them. Let's go home."
I led a still-slightly-tense Cecilia out of the shop. Crossing the street, turning the corner, we headed home.