Hisaki stepped back, looked at Rinna, then nodded.
The corner of her mouth curled into a tiny arc, as if she was satisfied with her work.
Then she took Rinna’s hand and pushed open the door on the other side of the changing room.
The shower room was more than twice the size of the changing room.
The floor was paved with dark gray stone slabs, with finger-width gaps between them. Warm water flowed through the gaps from the shower area, carrying a faint sulfur smell.
One entire wall was covered with a mirror, shrouded by a thin layer of white mist from the steam, reflecting only the blurred outlines of two people.
In the corner stood several small wooden stools and a shelf lined with bathing supplies. On the shelf, several dark clay jars were neatly arranged, filled with handmade soap and bath salts.
At the other end of the shower room was a wide-open wooden door, leading to the open-air hot spring outside.
The hot spring’s steam poured in endlessly through the door, turning the entire shower room into a semi-transparent box.
The scents of sulfur, hinoki cypress, and bamboo leaves mingled together, transformed by the steam into a warm, drowsy fragrance.
Rinna stood on the stone floor of the shower room, her soles slightly warm from the water seeping up.
She lifted her head and, through the open door, could see a corner of the outdoor hot spring. A thin layer of moss grew on the stone edge of the pool.
The water was bathed in moonlight, becoming a hazy silver-gray. A few bamboo leaves, drifted from somewhere unknown, floated on the surface, swaying gently with the ripples.
It was June, and the steam from the open-air hot spring kept pouring in, making the shower room stuffier than during the day.
Finally, a thin layer of moisture appeared on Rinna’s forehead—not sweat, just condensation from the humid air settling on her skin.
Her cheeks flushed slightly from the heat, and her breathing deepened just a little, as if she was trying her hardest to draw in this warm, sulfur-scented air.
“Rinna.”
Hisaki’s voice came from beside her.
Rinna turned her head and saw Hisaki already standing next to her.
The black yukata had been taken off at some point, hanging on a hook by the shower room’s entrance. The spider lily petals on its hem flickered in and out of sight in the steam.
Hisaki was wrapped in a pure white towel, from her chest down to mid-thigh, the edges tucked in tightly.
Her black hair spread over the towel, the ends dampened by steam, sticking to the skin on her collarbone like ink spreading on rice paper.
Hisaki reached out and gently tugged at the sash of Rinna’s yukata.
The sash came loose, and the purple plaid pattern slipped from Rinna’s waist. Hisaki caught it and draped it over a hook.
Then the yukata was taken off as well. The cherry blossom petals lingered on Rinna for one last moment before being hung up too.
Rinna was now only in a tank top and underwear.
Her fingers pinched the hem of the tank top, pausing for a moment.
Then she pulled it up and off.
Then her underwear.
She folded the clothes she had taken off, placed them in a bamboo basket in the corner, and picked up the remaining towel from the basket, wrapping it from her chest to her thighs.
Hisaki was already sitting on a small wooden stool in the shower area.
She patted the stool next to her.
“Rinna, let’s wash up first.”
Rinna walked over and sat down on the stool beside Hisaki.
The wooden stool had been rinsed with hot water, so it felt warm and comfortable to sit on.
Hisaki picked up a wooden ladle, scooped some warm water from a bucket by the wall—just the right temperature, neither hot nor cold—and poured it over Rinna’s shoulder.
The water flowed over her collarbone, over her chest, over her stomach, carrying warmth down to the stone floor and into the gaps in the ground.
The sensation of the warm water was like someone slowly stroking her skin with a warm palm; every inch of skin that the water touched grew slightly warm.
Hisaki scooped another ladle of water and poured it over herself.
The water ran over her black hair, the strands clinging to her back like ink-black seaweed.
Then she picked up the dark clay jar from the shelf, poured some handmade soap into her palm, and worked it into a lather.
“Rinna.”
Hisaki’s voice came from behind her.
“Let me wash your back.”
Rinna’s back tensed up slightly.
The warmth of the palm transferred through the foam to her skin, gentle and warm.
Hisaki’s fingers started at her shoulder blades, moving in circles downward.
The pressure was very light, so light it was like caressing a cherry blossom petal floating on the water’s surface, afraid that even a little force would crush it.
Between the fingers and skin, the foam made a very soft squish squish sound, like raindrops falling on leaves.
“You probably can’t reach this part easily yourself.”
Hisaki’s voice came from behind, muffled, wrapped in the steam of the shower room, as if separated by a thin layer of water.
Rinna didn’t answer.
She kept her head down, looking at her hands resting on her knees.
Her fingers curled slightly, the tips tinged with a faint pink from the heat.
Hisaki’s fingers slid from her shoulder blades to her spine, following the shallow groove all the way down, pausing at each vertebra as if counting.
Rinna’s spine was clearly visible beneath her skin, the contours of the bones like pebbles buried under a thin layer of snow.
Hisaki’s thumb pressed gently on each vertebra, the pressure just right—not enough to hurt Rinna, but enough to let her body relax little by little.
“Rinna is still the same as always.”
Hisaki’s voice drifted from behind.
Her tone was flat, as if stating an obvious fact.
“Still so many bones on your back.”
Her fingers stopped at the small of Rinna’s back, and her thumb traced a small circle in the dimple there.
The foam gathered into a small clump in that little hollow, stirred apart by Hisaki’s fingertips, then clumped together again.
Then she picked up the ladle, scooped up warm water, and poured it over Rinna’s shoulder.
The water washed away the foam, revealing the skin underneath, now slightly reddened from the washing.
Rinna’s breathing was very light.
The shower room was so quiet that only the sound of running water and the alternating breaths of the two could be heard.
Hisaki’s hand withdrew from Rinna’s back, rinsed off the soap in the warm water, and then picked up the shampoo from the shelf.
“Now for your hair.”
Her fingers slipped into Rinna’s white hair.
The silver-white strands shimmered with a soft luster in the steam. After getting wet, the color deepened a little, becoming the color of moonlight.
Hisaki’s fingertips slid from the roots to the tips, evenly distributing the shampoo through every strand.
Her fingertips traced gentle circles on Rinna’s scalp, even lighter than when she washed her back—so light it was like reading a Braille book written on the scalp.
Rinna closed her eyes.
When Hisaki’s fingers moved over her head, her eyelashes would flutter slightly.
Not because it tickled, but because it felt too good.
So good that her body involuntarily leaned back a little, the back of her head almost touching Hisaki’s chest.
Hisaki noticed.
Her hands didn’t stop; she leaned forward just a bit, letting Rinna’s back rest against her.
Then she continued washing, her fingers moving from the top of the head to the back of the skull, from the back of the skull to the hollow where the neck met the hair, washing every strand of white hair thoroughly.
The wooden ladle scooped up warm water and poured it over Rinna’s head.
The water carried the foam down her face—over her forehead, over her eyelids, over the tip of her nose, over her lips.
Rinna kept her eyes closed, feeling the water flow over her lashes, sticking them together like two small fans soaked in rain.
Hisaki’s palm blocked Rinna’s forehead to keep the water from getting into her eyes.
The edge of her palm was just above the brow bone, like a warm little awning.
After Hisaki finished washing Rinna’s hair, she started washing herself.
Her movements were quick and efficient, completely different from when she washed Rinna—scooping, lathering, rinsing, all in one smooth motion.
Rinna heard the sound of running water and the faint crackling of bubbles behind her, but didn’t turn around.
Then Hisaki stood up.
“Let’s go.”
She held out her hand.
Rinna placed her hand in Hisaki’s, and Hisaki held it firmly.
The two of them walked barefoot across the stone floor of the shower room, their soles leaving wet footprints smeared with traces of warm water and foam.
The footprints quickly evaporated in the steam pouring in from the door.
At the entrance to the open-air hot spring, the steam felt like an invisible wall.
When Rinna stepped over the threshold, the warm, sulfur-laden air enveloped her entirely. The droplets on her skin, touched by the steam, changed from cool to warm in an instant.
She couldn’t help but take a deep breath.
The air was mixed with the scents of bamboo leaves, moss, sulfur, and hinoki cypress, steeped in moonlight, brushed by the night breeze, and finally settling into her lungs.
Hisaki held her hand and led her down the stone steps step by step.
The hot spring water rose over her ankles, over her calves, over her knees.
The temperature was just right—not the kind that made you want to pull your foot back, but the kind that made you want to sink your whole body into it.
Rinna’s feet touched the smooth, round pebbles at the bottom of the pool, polished by the hot spring water, tickling slightly as she stepped on them.
Hisaki sat down at the edge of the pool, the water just reaching her chest.
She reached out and pulled Rinna over, making her sit beside her.
Their shoulders touched. The towels under the water floated up with buoyancy, swaying gently like two white flowers.
Rinna turned her head and, through the steam rising from the water, could see the stone lantern and pine trees in the garden.
The light from the stone lantern spilled through the gaps in the bamboo leaves onto the water’s surface, broken by ripples into flickering fragments of gold.
Moonlight shone down from above, turning the pool into a hazy silver mirror.
“It’s been a long time since I soaked in a hot spring with you like this.”
Hisaki’s voice drifted from the right, softened by the steam, sounding warm and tender, as if it had floated up after soaking in the water for a long time.
Rinna didn’t answer.
She just sank a little deeper into the water, letting it cover her shoulders, her collarbone, up to her chin.
The warmth wrapped around her from all sides, like a warm, flowing cocoon.
She felt her blood vessels slowly expanding, the blood flowing faster beneath her skin. Her fingers and toes, always cold all year round, finally began to feel a little warmth.
Then Hisaki moved.
She hugged Rinna from behind.
Her arms went around Rinna’s waist, and her ten fingers interlaced in front of Rinna’s stomach.
Her body pressed close, the towel rubbing gently against Rinna’s back under the water.
Hisaki’s chest pressed against Rinna’s shoulder blades.
Through the wet towel, Rinna could feel the softness of Hisaki’s chest. ‘About a 3D figure, I guess,’ she thought to herself unconsciously, then startled herself with the thought.
‘Chest.’
Hisaki’s chin rested on Rinna’s shoulder, and her breath landed on Rinna’s neck, warm and gentle.
Then her hands moved from Rinna’s stomach. One hand slipped under Rinna’s armpit, fingers slightly spread, gently cupping Rinna’s—
Rinna’s face turned red.
She could feel her cheeks burning as if they had been boiled in the hot spring water, the tips of her ears on fire, even her eyelids hot.
“Rinna is still the same as always, hasn’t grown at all.”
Hisaki’s voice came from beside her ear, soft, as if she had made an interesting discovery.
Her fingers pressed lightly on Rinna’s chest, the pressure so gentle it was like testing the softness of a marshmallow.
“Still the same size.”
Rinna coughed.
Not because she was really choked, but the kind of cough that said, “I have to make some sound to interrupt this situation.”
“Xiao Xiao, stop messing around.”
Her voice was muffled, with a hint of a nasal tone brought on by the steam.
Even she felt that her words had no authority—the trailing tone was soft, like she was whining instead of stopping.
But Hisaki stopped.
Her hand moved away from Rinna’s chest, interlocking again in front of her stomach.
She lifted her chin from Rinna’s shoulder, rubbed it gently against her wet white hair, then let go of the embrace.
“Hmm.”