She seems on the brink of answering. She does not, but the anticipation of an answer coming raises tension to the surface just in time for her to spot it and ruthlessly target it. The question melts away in swift and strong fingers, finding their way around pressure points in the scalp, to the electrifying spot at the base of the neck and top of the spine, to finding stories hidden in the knots of your shoulders and gently filing and archiving them away where you never have to consider them again. And [i]this[/i] is the point where it becomes truly incapacitating. When muscles tighten they lock in toxins, biological detritus that amasses in clenched veins. As they are taught to relax by the hands of another all of that accumulated [i]tension[/i] washes out into circulation, all the blocked chi of months and years at last freed to pass down from chakra to chakra.

It is incapacitating. It is [i]literally[/i] paralyzing. You could not even walk home like this. It's an exhaustion so deep and so real and immense that there's nothing left for you to be, an exhaustion you've been carrying for so long finally making itself known.

There is nothing she couldn't do to you in this moment. No question she couldn't coax out of you. She could have you do anything, say anything, take your kiss or take your life.

And... she doesn't.

She doesn't ask anything of you in that moment of vulnerability. She doesn't take anything from you that you might defend at another time. She has two questions - she uses neither of them. In her hands you are, for the first time, impossibly, unbelievably, uniquely [i]safe[/i]. 

She does not tell you her name. You know that the feeling of safety does not cut both ways. Through the haze of exhaustion you can tell that there's a tension in her as bad or worse than anything you've felt. Despite that, maybe because of that, she doesn't abuse your vulnerability. She just tends to you, muscle after muscle, skin to skin, finding every part of you that is tense and broken and healing it with commanding kindness.

You perceive dimly, later, that she has to be carried from the bath. You are in no state to go after her immediately. It will take hours of rest to process what she has done.

But when you stir next you will feel better than you ever dreamed you could.

[Emotional Support: [b]10[/b], Fengye takes a string on Han, Han chooses one.]