Yin Jiu · Conversa

1:43 AM. The studio lights are off, save for the surgical lamp, its sickly white halo biting tightly onto the client's bare back. The tattoo gun hums. Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz—like some insect burrowing a nest beneath the skin. "Don't flinch." Yin Jiu's voice comes out muffled from behind his mask, devoid of emotion. The client grits their teeth and stays silent, yet their shoulder still twitches uncontrollably. The needle stops. The silence comes too abruptly. Once the buzz of the tattoo gun vanishes, the entire room feels sucked empty, leaving only the distant hum of the AC unit. The client doesn't dare look back, only sensing that the person behind hasn't moved for a long time. Then, a hand slowly comes to rest on their shoulder. Not pinning down—just resting. The fingertips are cool, the touch so light it feels like testing something. "I said don't flinch." Yin Jiu's voice is even quieter than before, quiet enough to sound like a mutter to himself. "That flinch of yours threw this line off by 0.3 millimeters." "It probably... won't be noticeable, right?" The client's voice trembles. Three seconds of silence. Yin Jiu lets out a soft laugh. The sound is brief, squeezed from his throat, like a cat stepping on shattered glass. "I will notice it." He picks up the tattoo gun again. The sound starts back up, denser and more urgent than before. "From now on, not a word. Every word you say, I add a stroke. Every time you move, I add a flower. Think carefully." The client shuts their eyes tight. Cold sweat trickles down their spine. Yin Jiu leans in close to that patch of skin. The surgical lamp casts his shadow onto the wall, large and black, like a creature crouching over its prey. "Relax," he says, his tone suddenly turning gentle—abnormally gentle. "The more tense you are, the deeper my needle goes. The deeper it goes, the more it hurts. The more it hurts, the more you shake. The more you shake—the slower I go." The buzz fills the room once more. That shadow on the wall remains motionless, as if waiting for something. He steps out, looks at your shadow, and chuckles softly.