Let's Wash Together
Two plates and two water glasses still sat on the dinner table.
The Saintess carried the last side-dish plate to the sink and pressed her damp fingertips against a towel to dry them.
On one side of the table her textbook still lay open, and her phone in its sky-blue case rested face-down beside it.
Today she had solved four pages of problems.
There were still plenty of stars marked, but she had finished two of the pages entirely on her own. One she had photographed and asked about; one she had gotten wrong. Even so, the pages had turned.
The Saintess closed the textbook.
“Hero.”
“Mm?”
The Hero was rinsing a cup beside the sink. Water droplets clung to the arm he had rolled up past the elbow. The Saintess glanced at that arm for a moment, then needlessly squared the corner of her textbook again. The book was already neat, yet her fingertips pressed the edge once more.
Her fingers still rested on the textbook’s corner, but her voice came first.
“Let’s wash together.”
The sound of water rinsing the cup continued unchanged. The Hero’s fingers tightened slightly around the glass. A single droplet that had gathered on his wrist slid down. The Saintess’s gaze lingered briefly on the drop traveling along his wrist.
Only after she had spoken did the tips of her ears grow hot. Embarrassment rose, yet she waited for his answer.
The Hero set the cup down.
“Ria.”
“……Yes.”
As he stepped closer, her eyes dropped to the phone on the table. She remembered the words she had spoken on the screen yesterday. Not on the screen. Directly, at night. The Saintess pressed strength into her fingertips. She had already said it, after all.
The Hero asked quietly,
“Shall we go?”
Instead of answering, the Saintess picked up the thin cardigan draped over the back of her chair. She did not put it on; she folded it neatly and laid it on the table. She also slid the textbook carefully to one side. Only after finishing that small tidying did she walk first toward the bathroom.
Behind her she heard the towel cabinet open. The sound of two towels being taken out. The sound of slippers being neatly pushed into place in front of the bathroom door. Those sounds drew closer one by one at her back.
At the bathroom door the Saintess looked down at the handle for a moment. The first day she had come to this house, she had frozen just from hearing the water beyond this door. The shower stream. The cold tiles. The Hero on the other side of the door. Everything had been unfamiliar then. Now she turned the handle herself. The Hero was behind her.
The Saintess opened the door.
Bright white tiles and a wide shower stall came into view. On the shelf sat shampoo, body wash, and a small mouthwash cup; another clean towel hung on the lower rack. The mirror was still clear. Soon it would fog.
The Hero followed her in and closed the door.
Click.
At the sound of the lock the Saintess’s shoulders drew in a little. She took her hand from the handle and stepped one pace farther into the bathroom.
The Hero set the two towels on the lower shelf and approached the shower. At first cold water struck the floor. Soon warm steam began to rise.
“Check the temperature for me?”
The Saintess held out her hand. The water that touched the back of her hand was a little cool at first, then quickly grew warm. She spread her fingers and caught the stream.
“It’s good.”
When she said that, the Hero’s gaze rested briefly on the back of her hand receiving the water. Watching the stream run over her hand, the Saintess raised her fingers to the shoulder straps of her dress. The soft beige fabric slipped down from her shoulders. She carefully stepped out of the dress and placed it in the laundry basket. Her white underthings soon folded on top of it.
Behind her she heard the Hero steadying his breath. The Saintess pressed her fingertips a moment longer against the rim of the laundry basket after setting down the last piece of clothing. Between the sounds of water, his breathing lowered just a little.
The Hero undressed as well and stepped into the shower stall. The Saintess stood first under the stream. Warm water soaked her silver hair and ran down the nape of her neck and over her shoulders. Wet strands settled heavily down her back. A single droplet fell from the ends of her silver hair and splashed lightly on her collarbone. When the cool drop struck her collarbone, the Saintess closed her eyes a fraction.
At first there was only the sound of water. The Hero stood behind her and parted her hair with his hands. As his fingers passed through the wet silver strands, moisture ran down the backs of his hands. The scent of shampoo rose, and warm water trailed down beneath her ears.
“Tilt your head a little.”
“Yes.”
The Saintess lowered her head. The Hero’s hands rinsed the foam from between her strands. Water that tried to run toward her eyes was blocked by the backs of his hands and flowed down past her ears; tangled hair loosened little by little between his fingers. Strength left the Saintess’s shoulders. Those hands lingered a moment longer beneath the nape of her neck. Foam spread softly over her shoulders.
The Hero’s hands traveled from her neck to her shoulders, her arms, her wrists. The Saintess regulated her breathing under the stream. His hands returned to her shoulders. This time they passed her collarbone and came forward. Soap foam spread across her chest. The Hero’s palms first cupped her breasts. Wet foam pressed beneath his palms, and the heat of his hands reached her at once through the moisture.
The Saintess’s breath trembled first.
“Ah…….”
The short sound mixed into the water. At first he cradled her breasts as if supporting their whole weight, then put the slightest pressure into his palms. Pressed, then released. Splash. When his wet palms cupped her again, foam slipped out between his fingers. He gathered them round once more, then let the slick flesh slip free inside his hands.
The Saintess braced a hand against the tile wall. The tile beneath her palm was warm and slippery. From behind, the Hero’s chest drew closer. His other hand supported her waist. Each time the pressure kneading her breasts deepened a little, the Saintess’s shoulders trembled faintly. Foam was pushed out between his fingers, and the water stream followed the path it left.
The Hero’s fingertips neared her nipples. His thumbs did not press at once; they circled the wetness around each nipple. As if washing foam from the damp skin, his fingertips drew nearer little by little, then retreated again. The Saintess’s breathing grew shallow.
“Nnh…….”
A small sound escaped first. A droplet fell from the ends of her silver hair onto her breast. It clung for a moment to her nipple. Each time the Hero’s thumb approached, the wet nipple hardened more sensitively amid the moisture. When his thumb brushed across the nipple where the droplet had rested, the Saintess’s breath cut short. The fallen drop immediately slid down her breast, leaving only heat that lingered long in its place.
The Saintess’s fingertips pressed harder against the tile. The force entering the Hero’s fingertips lessened once. She exhaled with her head still lowered. A little more strength entered the hand braced on the tile. That hand returned. This time it did not merely brush past; it stayed a little longer at the place where her breath had faltered.
“There……”
Her voice was almost buried in the water. The Saintess could not continue at once. The Hero’s fingertips passed around the area again. Circling the wet flesh, they finally pressed lightly on her nipple. The Saintess’s waist swayed faintly inside the circle of his arms.
“Like last time…….”
The end of the sentence trembled. The Hero’s breath touched low over her wet hair.
“Mm.”
It was a short answer. At that single word the Saintess’s face flushed deeper. Her fingertips pressed more firmly over the back of his hand. The Hero’s hand followed the direction she pressed and traveled the same path again.
The hand that had lingered on her breast moved downward. Foam was pushed below her ribs, and his palm passed slowly over her stomach. When his palm touched her belly, her lower abdomen tightened faintly. The Hero’s hand stayed once more on her stomach. As if rinsing foam away with the water, it passed over the same place again. When the heat of his palm did not leave, the Saintess’s breath loosened. Only after her breath returned did his fingertips travel toward her thighs.
The first place he touched was the outer thigh. Body-wash foam slid along the wet skin, and the Hero’s hand followed that flow down, then up again. The Saintess put strength into the hand braced on the tile. His hand drew nearer the inner thigh. His fingertips rose very slowly along the inner flesh. They paused for a moment near the edge of the wet skin at the end of her inner thigh, close to the space between her legs.
The Saintess’s breath caught at the base of her throat. The water continued to run down her thighs, yet each time his fingertips approached, the slickness there grew denser. She bit her lip lightly. The Hero’s palm opened wide in that place. His palm cupped her inner thigh as if parting it, and his fingers slowly brushed the edge of the wet flesh. Foam was pushed out between his fingers. His fingers retraced the path they had just stroked.
“Ah…….”
The Saintess’s knees trembled faintly. The Hero’s other arm supported her waist. She reached back and laid her hand over the back of his. She put the slightest pressure into her fingertips. When the force entering his fingertips lessened, she pressed the back of his hand and drew it farther inward. Receiving that pressure, the Hero’s hand moved again along the inner path. This time it passed the end of her inner thigh and came close to the place she had said she liked last time.
When his fingers brushed over the wet flesh, the Saintess’s breath cut short. She lowered her head, and a little more strength entered the fingertips resting on the back of his hand.
“There……”
This time it was a little clearer. The Hero’s fingertips continued along the same path. They brushed past the most sensitive place, then returned to circle the wet surroundings. While the Saintess swallowed her breath, his fingertips retraced the same path in smaller motions. Her thighs reflexively tried to close, then stopped. Her fingertips pressed more deeply into the back of his hand. That hand guided his a little farther inward.
The Hero’s breath trembled low. His fingertips passed the wet edge and touched near the inner flesh. The Saintess’s body shuddered hard inside his arms.
“Hnn…….”
Her insides tightened first. The moment they clenched, her hand pressed deeply into the tile. Water ran down her thighs, yet the slickness coating the Hero’s fingertips was different from water. The wetness that had welled between her legs spread thinly between his fingers and did not wash away easily even under the stream. It remained a little hotter, a little more tenacious.
When the Hero’s fingertips passed the wet edge again, the fluid clung slickly to his fingertips. The moment she saw that, the Saintess’s face lowered more deeply.
“Hero…….”
“Mm.”
That voice was closer than the water. The Saintess bit her lip, then spoke very softly.
“You remembered.”
The Hero’s breath touched her wet hair.
“Mm.”
“The place I…… said I liked.”
“How could I forget.”
At those words the Saintess lowered her head further. Water ran down her flushed cheeks. Her fingertips remained pressed for a while longer over the back of his hand. The place she had said she liked, the Hero’s hand traveled again. Amid the sound of water her breathing gradually loosened, and the arm around her waist eased a little as well.
The Saintess slowly steadied her breath. Her nipples were still sensitively hard, and between her legs the hot, tenacious slickness of a moment ago still remained. Just like that, the Saintess turned her body. The Hero’s hand still rested on her waist. She laid her hand briefly over the back of his, then slowly drew it away.
“This time, let me do it for you.”