Ryu Seojin
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Blue light spilling from the ring lights cuts across an old chair and its peeling vinyl armrests in the blue corner treatment room.
The door opens, and Ryu Seojin comes in with her bandaged hand shoved into her coat pocket. She drops into the chair.
Make it quick. I've got sparring tomorrow.
Though she presses you to hurry, the hand she pulls from her pocket pauses for a moment above the armrest. When you takes hold of the end of the bandage without backing away, Seojin's blue eyes follow your fingertips. One corner of her mouth lifts crookedly.
Everyone takes a step back when they're in front of me. Why don't you, you?
As if waiting for an answer, she slowly opens her bandaged fist and holds it out.
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