18. Jjimjilbang 1 (1)
My footsteps halt in front of a shopping arcade building. It's a short walk from the park in the opposite direction from school—the jjimjilbang that's the first choice for students not living in the dorms when they've had a few drinks and it's too awkward to head straight home. I fled here in a panic, too scared that the man might chase me to go back to the dorm. Just one night here should be fine. I'm not even sure he's really following me.
I calm my pounding heart as best I can and check my outfit. I slipped into the dolphin shorts in that back alley, pulling them lower than usual, so even if I stretch my legs out straight, the lewd graffiti won't peek out. The elastic band clings precariously to the bottom of my lower abdomen instead of my waist, creating a sticky, thrilling tension. It's not as stimulating as blatantly showing off, but the secretive thrill of doing something unconventional while no one else knows is exquisite. Plus, even though they're mismatched, I managed to pick up some slippers someone tossed in the trash. They look weird, but they're way better than going barefoot.
The sun has set and the surroundings are dim, but the arcade building glows brightly. Plenty of shops are still open, and the sauna runs 24 hours, so it's no surprise. He won't notice the graffiti or that I'm not wearing panties, right? Once I get inside the sauna, it'll be okay. The hallway's a bit bright, but no problem. I can't stay out here like this in case the man shows up.
With trembling legs, I slowly step into the building. Ugh, so bright. The lights are harsher than I expected. I blink several times before my eyes adjust. Bustling noises echo from every corner—a restaurant splashing water and clinking dishes, a shutter rattling down somewhere. It's an old arcade, not sleek like new builds, with no proper soundproofing, so kitchen clamor, chatter, everything spills out everywhere. It's brimming with everyday life.
Only now, after reaching here, does the tension coiled through my body start to unwind. Even if the man followed me, with so many people around, he couldn't do anything rash.
Two unfamiliar women stand waiting for the elevator inside the building, baskets in hand. Their pink baskets are stuffed with shampoo, shower scrubs, and the like. In contrast, I'm clutching just my phone, barefoot. Our outfits aren't that different—light and casual—but they're surely wearing proper underwear. That's what's normal... But I'm not even doing that. Every time I think about it, a strange emotion wells up from deep in my chest—a mix of alienation and guilt seeping into me.
I should've grabbed something if I knew I'd end up at a sauna. Will I look weird? Nah, people come empty-handed all the time. They've got towels and soap inside. I've heard guys show up naked. Though that means women usually bring their own stuff like these ladies... I push the thought away and stand quietly behind them, trying not to draw attention.
The elevator arrives quickly. The women board first, heading to the back, leaving me no choice but to stand near the door. Facing away from them, I see the sauna button already pressed. I feel eyes on my back. They're staring at me weird. Like I'm suspicious. I clasp my empty hands in front of my stomach. It won't hide the fact that I'm carrying nothing from behind, but I can't help feeling mortified otherwise...
The elevator reaches its floor in a flash. The doors open to a counter straight ahead—a standard setup with separate entrances for men and women. A man sits there.
"Adult, right? No minors after 10 PM."
"Y-yes..."
The staffer speaks without looking at me. Normally, I'd find his gruff attitude rude, but right now, it's a relief. Dressed this sloppily, any scrutiny is dangerous. If he figured out what I've done under my clothes or why these dolphin shorts are slung so low on my ass, I'd be done for.
"Adult solo: 7,000 won for baths only, 10,000 for the full sauna. No hot tubs or saunas if you've been drinking."
"Th-the sauna package, please."
Guess I look like someone who drank and came to crash. Makes sense—empty-handed and all. Finally, I relax a bit. I didn't drink, but I am here to sleep. As long as I just crash and leave, it's fine. Not pretending or anything.
With much lighter steps now, I head inside. I tuck the mismatched slippers into a neat wooden shoe locker and proceed. The women's changing room hits me with a surge of humidity. The air carries that unmistakable bathhouse scent. I used to come often with my siblings back home, but this is my first time since starting college. It's so familiar and nostalgic, my little sisters at home pop into my mind. But this big sis almost got caught doing pervy stuff like an idiot and fled here.
The dolphin shorts, slung perilously low past my pubic bone, keep reminding me. You're standing in front of people dressed like no one else would, you hopeless pervert.Ugh... true enough. A normal girl wouldn't dream of leaving the house without even panties. Sure, some skip bras at home or run to the corner store, but this is no quick errand—it's a solid 30-minute walk from the dorm, bare-assed in shorts barely hanging on. Even 'casual' has limits...
The changing room buzzes with naked women milling about. Mostly older, but plenty my age too. Even on a weekday evening, it's crowded—over a dozen in sight alone. Laughter and casual chatter fill the air, punctuated by rustling towels and clothes. Breasts jiggle slightly with every step. No one covers their chest or crotch. Even if I'm a total perv, I blend right in here. They're all naked—how would they know? Perfect spot for a freak like me to hide.
I check the key on my wrist: locker 349. Finding it is easy. Like all saunas, the lockers line the wall opposite the bath entrance, jutting out like library shelves to divide the space. 349 is the outermost one in the aisle right by the bath door—the most exposed spot imaginable. With only women around, it'd be fine if I were normal... but I'm not. I'm a perv covered in obscene graffiti on my bare skin. Undressing here means everyone walking by gets a full view. And with it scrawled from my crotch up to under my breasts and across my ass, no single towel could hide it all.
This spot's too risky... Should I go back and ask to switch? But that staffer was so unfriendly... Hate to face him again. Can't go up to the sauna in street clothes anyway—I have to change. Corner or not, if skin shows, it's dangerous either way. Most people here are blow-drying or dressing, so no one's watching right now. ...Maybe it'll be okay?
If no one comes out of the baths, I might not get caught... Heart hammering so loud I can't hear anything else, lungs tightening with bone-dry tension. So many people... I barely escaped getting caught minutes ago, and now I'm about to strip again. Doesn't matter that it's a normal place for legal nudity. The second those scribbles on my secret spots, my pale skin, come into view, it stops being normal. If I get busted here after fleeing... I'd be such a moron.
But god, it feels like it would feel so good.