Five sessions in, and Aoyama Mio thought she finally understood why "Relaxation Salon Mist" earned those glowing reviews. A fifth-floor sanctuary of chamomile steam and white walls, a receptionist whose smile never quite reaches her eyes, a therapist whose skilled, expressionless hands always know exactly where it hurts—and exactly where it tickles.
But today's "special course" is different. Kiryu's fingers find every weak point with inhuman precision, and the laughter it tears from her feels l
Tickle Esthetician: The Fifth Treatment Table - The Voice from the Next Room — In the Room Next to the Special Course, Minami Cried for Help
Cold metal pinned Mio's wrists and waist to the treatment table.
She couldn't move. Her fingertips trembled faintly.
Only the low hum of the air conditioning echoed through the quiet treatment room. From a small vent embedded in the wall, a thin stream of air flowed in. It carried the faint scent of herbs.
Kiryu's fingers traced along Mio's side.
"Aoyama-san, your breathing has become shallow. Please relax more."
Kiryu's voice was as flat and emotionless as ever, devoid of warmth. His fingers didn't stop. Three seconds. Another three seconds. With precise rhythm, he sought out only Mio's weak points.
(That sensation again...)
Laughter welled up from the pit of her stomach, pushed out against her will.
"A... ahaha... w-wait, Kiryu-san..."
Mio's voice no longer sounded like her own. Laughter and screams mingled, crushed somewhere deep in her throat. The restraints bit into her skin. Cold. Painful. But more than that, the ticklishness scrambled her thoughts into chaos.
That was when it happened.
From beyond the wall, she heard a voice.
"...Help me..."
Mio's laughter stopped dead.
"...Please, stop..."
A thin, hoarse voice. It leaked faintly through the vent.
"...I can't laugh anymore... I can't breathe..."
Mio's heart gave a single, heavy thud.
(That voice...)
Mio knew that voice. Bright, always laughing—her former coworker. The person who had introduced her to this salon half a year ago.
"Minami...-san...?"
A hoarse whisper escaped Mio's lips.
No. That couldn't be. Minami was just a regular customer, a cheerful friend who had simply told her, "It's a really great esthetic salon."
"Please... I can't take it anymore... I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."
Minami's voice was a tangle of sobs and apologies. What was she apologizing for? The meaning of those words pierced Mio with painful clarity.
(Minami-san is in the room next door right now...)
Mio twisted her neck desperately within the restraints. She looked at the wall. The vent. From there, Minami's voice flowed in, thin and fragile.
"Minami-san! Is that you, Minami-san!?"
Mio screamed at the top of her lungs.
But the soundproof wall blocked her voice. Her scream echoed uselessly within the treatment room.
In that instant, Kiryu's fingers pressed hard into the most sensitive spot on her side.
"A...!?"
Mio's body jerked violently.
"Aoyama-san, raising your voice will disturb your breathing."
Kiryu said this without changing expression. His fingers slowly traced the same spot again, as if confirming her reaction.
"N-no... stop... not there, stop..."
Mio pleaded while laughing. Tears spilled from the corners of her eyes.
Kiryu's hand didn't stop.
He was observing her reactions. Recording them. Her suffering, her laughter—all of it was nothing but data to him.
From beyond the wall, Minami's voice came again.
"...I don't want this anymore... I can't do this anymore..."
Mio's chest tightened.
(Minami-san...)
The day Minami had introduced her to this salon came back to Mio with vivid clarity.
Half a year ago. On the way home from work. Minami had said to her, with that usual bright smile:
"It's a really great esthetic salon. It relieves your fatigue, and your skin gets beautiful too."
Back then, there had been dark circles under Minami's eyes. Her voice had been slightly hoarse.
(That wasn't just fatigue.)
Mio understood now.
Minami had already been subjected to this salon's "screening" at that point. She had finished her fifth treatment and was completely drained. And still, she had introduced Mio to this place.
(Why...?)
Mio couldn't understand.
(Did Minami-san want me to go through the same thing?)
(Or did she want someone—anyone—to understand this suffering?)
Either way, if Minami hadn't introduced her, Mio would never have come to this salon.
(The reason I'm here right now is because of Minami-san.)
Guilt toward Minami and fear of having been introduced by her surged through Mio's chest simultaneously.
(But more than that...)
As she listened to Minami's voice, still crying beyond the wall, Mio thought:
(I have to save Minami-san.)
Something inside Mio ignited—quietly, but surely.
Kiryu's fingers touched the nape of her neck.
"Hn...!"
Mio's body jerked again.
"Aoyama-san, please don't move. You're interfering with the treatment."
Kiryu's voice was as detached as ever.
Mio bit down on her lip.
(Don't move, he says...)
Within the restraints, Mio tried desperately to steady her breathing. The wave of laughter receded. In that single moment of respite, she used abdominal breathing to suppress the spasms of her diaphragm.
(Calm down. Calm down.)
She told herself.
(Watch the rhythm of Kiryu-san's hands.)
Mio tracked the movement of Kiryu's fingers with her eyes.
Three seconds. Another three seconds. A precise rhythm. He never attacked the same spot consecutively. He always paused before moving to the next weak point.
(This rhythm...)
Mio had begun to read the patterns of Kiryu's hands.
That was when it happened.
The door to the treatment room opened quietly.
"Pardon my intrusion, Aoyama-sama."
It was Sawa. Her black hair was gathered into a low bun at the nape of her neck. Not a single strand out of place. Behind thin-framed glasses, her dark eyes held a light that smiled without smiling. In her left hand, the usual tablet-style recording device.
Sawa peered into Mio's face and smiled brightly.
"How are you feeling? How is the special course treating you?"
Mio looked up at Sawa's face.
"Sawa-san... what have you done to Minami-san...!?"
Mio's voice was trembling. It wasn't just from the laughter.
Sawa didn't let her smile falter, even at Mio's words.
"Minami-sama? Minami-sama is a special regular who has completed her fifth session. You are walking the same path, Aoyama-sama."
Holding the recording device against her chest, Sawa slowly approached Mio.
"The contract... nobody told me it would come to this...!"
Mio forced the words out.
"Oh, but Article Seven of the contract clearly states: 'During treatment, strong stimulation may be experienced. Additionally, physical restraint may be employed as part of the treatment.' Article Eleven also states: 'The salon bears no responsibility for the results of treatments conducted under this contract.' You signed this contract upon your first visit, Aoyama-sama."
Sawa's voice recited the clauses without hesitation, like a well-made machine.
"That's fraud...! I didn't know anything...!"
Mio shouted.
Sawa tilted her head, smile intact.
"It is not fraud. It is a legitimate contract. You agreed to it yourself, Aoyama-sama. The special course will be complete in just a few more sessions. Please rest assured."
Mio's protests dissolved powerlessly before Sawa's smile.
(This person—no matter what I say, it's useless.)
Mio realized this.
Sawa gazed steadily at Mio's face. Those dark eyes seemed to see her not as a human being, but as one of the numerical values displayed on the recording device.
"Your response score is very high, Aoyama-sama. Kiryu says it's very rewarding work. At this rate, you'll make a wonderful regular customer."
A cold chill ran down Mio's spine at Sawa's words.
(Response score...?)
(My laughter, my suffering—all of it is being turned into numbers...?)
Mio felt nausea rise in her throat.
Just then, from beyond the wall, Minami's voice came again.
"...I'm sorry... Mi-chan... I'm sorry..."
Mio's heart gave a heavy thud.
(Mi-chan...)
That was the nickname Minami used for her.
(Minami-san knows I'm here...?)
Heat pooled behind Mio's eyes.
"Minami-san...!"
Mio screamed at the top of her lungs.
But her voice, again, was blocked by the wall and never reached Minami.
As Sawa listened to Mio's screams, she gazed at the recording device's screen with an enraptured expression.
"Ah, Minami-sama's response score is still high as well. As expected of the one who introduced you, Aoyama-sama."
Mio's body trembled with rage at Sawa's words.
"Let Minami-san go...! She's at her limit...!"
For the first time, Sawa's brow furrowed slightly at Mio's words.
"Aoyama-sama, with all due respect, Minami-sama is continuing this course of her own volition. We never force anyone."
"That's a lie...! Minami-san is asking for help...!"
Mio shouted back.
Sawa sighed.
"Aoyama-sama, you seem a bit agitated. Kiryu, please continue the treatment for Aoyama-sama a little longer. Thoroughly, until she calms down."
Kiryu nodded silently.
"Then, Aoyama-sama, I'll see you later."
With that, Sawa left the treatment room.
The door closed quietly.
Mio, alone and fixed in her restraints, stared up at the ceiling.
(Can I not escape this place...?)
(Can I not save Minami-san either...?)
Tears spilled silently from Mio's eyes.
Then, a scene flashed through her mind.
Five years ago. Mio's older sister had suddenly disappeared.
Her sister had been far more mature than Mio, beautiful, and always worried about her.
Before she vanished, her sister had often visited a certain esthetic salon.
"It relieves fatigue. And your skin gets so beautiful."
Her sister had spoken about the salon happily to Mio.
But about a month before she disappeared, her sister's condition had begun to change, little by little.
"Lately, I've been laughing too much. It's exhausting."
Her sister had said that, sighing often.
There had been dark circles under her eyes.
Mio had noticed the change in her sister, but she hadn't been able to do anything.
"Are you okay?"
That was all she'd been able to ask.
Her sister had always forced a smile and said:
"I'm fine. You worry too much, Mio."
And then, one day, her sister vanished without a trace.
They had gone to the police. But no leads were ever found.
Just before her sister disappeared, Mio had found a slip of paper in her room.
It was a copy of an esthetic salon contract.
Mio still remembered its contents clearly.
"Physical restraint may be employed as part of the treatment."
That clause was identical to the one Sawa had thrown in Mio's face at this salon.
(The salon my sister went to...)
(No way...)
Mio's heart pounded like a drum.
(This salon and my sister's disappearance are connected...?)
But Mio's thoughts couldn't proceed any further.
Because Kiryu's fingers had begun to slide slowly down from the nape of her neck to her collarbone.
"A...!"
Mio's body jerked.
The ticklishness forcibly overwrote her thoughts.
(No... I can't stop thinking...)
Mio desperately tried to keep thinking about her sister, about Minami.
But Kiryu's fingers continued to attack her weak points with precision and persistence.
"Ahaha... s-stop...!"
Laughter escaped Mio's lips.
(My sister, Minami-san, and me...)
(We're all the same...)
Heat pooled behind Mio's eyes.
Tears spilled over.
Her throat burned.
At the boundary between laughter and terror, Mio's consciousness nearly slipped away again and again.
But beyond those tears, her mind was actually growing calmer.
(This is no time to cry.)
(I'm getting out of here.)
(I'm taking Minami-san home with me.)
Within the restraints, Mio moved her fingertips ever so slightly.
The position of the tiny lever near the wrist lock—she had sensed it during the previous treatment.
(Here...?)
Her fingertip touched a small protrusion on the cold metal.
(Is this the lever that releases the lock...?)
Mio focused every nerve in her fingertips.
Kiryu's fingers pressed hard into her side.
"Ahaha...!"
Mio's body bucked violently.
Her fingertip nearly slipped off the lever.
(No... focus...!)
In the brief moment when the wave of laughter receded, Mio used abdominal breathing to suppress the spasms.
Then, with her fingertip, she confirmed the feel of the lever once more.
(Yes, this is it.)
(Can I move it...?)
Mio put strength into her fingertip.
The lever was stiff, unyielding.
(Not yet...)
(More force...)
Kiryu's fingers tickled the sole of her foot.
"Ahahaha... n-no, not there, really...!"
Mio laughed helplessly, but she didn'
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