The night inside the ruined convenience store weighed on everyone like a suffocating blanket. The moans of the dead outside were faint and distant, but inside, silence pressed heavier than any threat. Every breath, every shift of fabric, sounded too loud in the cramped, broken space.
Saya clung to Imura as though her small hands were shackles. Her fingers curled tight into the fabric of his shirt, her face buried against his chest, breathing him in like she would vanish without his presence. Her body trembled every so often, and each tremor sank into him, feeding his awareness of how completely she had given herself over. She no longer tried to hide her fear or her need. To her, he was the anchor. The one thing keeping her sane.
Across the dim space, Rin stood rigid. Her arms crossed tight over her chest, nails digging into her sleeves. She glared at them with a mixture of anger and something rawer, something she refused to name. Her gray eyes shimmered faintly under the broken ceiling light, sharp as knives but betraying the emotions she couldn't contain.
Imura smirked to himself. Saya, desperate and dependent. Rin, proud but jealous, her denial only fueling the fire. Both caught in his orbit already.
When Rin finally stepped forward, the crunch of glass shards under her boot broke the silence. She stopped only a few feet away, her shoulders tense, her fists trembling at her sides.
"You're disgusting," she said, her voice quiet but rough, like it scraped her throat to speak. "She's terrified, and you're using her."
Imura tilted his head, the corner of his mouth curving upward. "Using? No. I'm giving her exactly what she needs. Safety. Certainty. Something no one else here can give. Tell me, Rin… do you really think you're different?"
Her lips pressed tight. She looked away, jaw clenching, and said nothing.
Imura rose, Saya clinging tighter but following without hesitation, unwilling to let even a step separate her. He moved toward Rin slowly, deliberately, his footsteps echoing softly in the hollow store. He stopped just close enough for her to feel his presence radiating off him. She held her ground, but her heartbeat was written across her quickened breath.
"You hate it, don't you?" he said softly. "Watching her lean on me, seeing her cling like I'm the only thing keeping her alive. It eats at you because deep down… you want it too."
Rin's eyes snapped up to his, wide and defiant, but her silence betrayed her.
He leaned closer, his voice dropping into a whisper meant for her alone. "I've seen the way you look at me when you think no one notices. The way your body stiffens when I speak. You don't want to admit it, but your body already has."
Her breath caught. The defiance in her eyes flickered.
Saya's voice rose in a trembling murmur against his chest. "I… I don't want him to let go. If he leaves me, I'll break."
Rin flinched at the words. She turned her glare on Saya, but the sight of her pressed so tightly against him carved jealousy deep into her chest. She hated it. Hated Saya for being weak. Hated Imura for letting it happen. Hated herself most of all for wishing she could be the one held that way.
Imura reached out, brushing a stray lock of Rin's hair back behind her ear. His fingertips skimmed her cheek. The touch was feather-light, but it set her entire body quivering.
"You can keep lying," he murmured. "But your eyes, your pulse, your trembling hands… they already betray you. You want this. You want me."
She shoved him then, sudden and sharp—but her palms stayed pressed against his chest, trembling with the effort. "Y-you're wrong," she whispered harshly. "I don't need anyone. Not you. Not anyone."
He caught her wrists with ease, holding them there against him. His grip was gentle, almost casual, but it made resistance impossible. His gaze locked onto hers, unflinching.
"Tell yourself that if it helps you sleep," he said, voice low and steady. "But you can't fool me. Not when your body says otherwise."
Rin's lips parted, but nothing came out. Her pupils dilated, her chest rose and fell too fast, and shame burned in her throat. She wanted to tear free, to strike him, to run—but her body betrayed her at every turn.
Saya pressed closer to him, whispering with desperate devotion, "Please don't leave me… please…"
The sound cracked something inside Rin. Anger and longing twisted into one unbearable knot. Her voice trembled as she forced words out. "I… I hate you."
But her voice was weak, her hands shaking. She wrenched herself free at last and turned, retreating into the dark corner of the store, unable to face him any longer.
Imura watched her go, amusement flickering in his eyes. He sat back down, Saya instantly resuming her place against him, clutching him tightly as though afraid he would vanish. He stroked her hair absently, his gaze still fixed on the shadows Rin had disappeared into.
She'll break soon enough. They all do.
And in the deeper dark, unseen by either Rin or Saya, another pair of eyes watched the scene unfold. A girl crouched quietly behind a toppled shelf, her auburn hair falling over her torn clothes, her breath held as she observed. She had been part of the group, overlooked until now, but unlike the others, she didn't look away. She studied Imura—the way he commanded, the way he bent both Rin and Saya around him—and something sharp flickered in her gaze.
She whispered so softly no one could hear. "What… are you?"