The night was restless. The world outside scraped and moaned, but inside the ruined store, something else was unraveling.
Saya curled against Imura in her sleep, her breath soft and warm against his chest, murmuring his name again and again. She looked fragile, childlike, clutching him as though letting go meant death.
Rin lay awake in the corner, face buried against her knees, gray eyes open and burning. Her chest ached with anger she couldn't name, her teeth digging into her lip until the taste of iron filled her mouth. She hated Saya's dependency. She hated Imura's smirk. But what she hated most was the way her body responded when his voice filled the room, low and steady, weaving around her like smoke.
And then there was Natsumi.
She hadn't slept. She sat with her back pressed against the broken wall, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around them. Her auburn hair fell loose, strands clinging to her cheek, but her sharp eyes never strayed far from him. She watched him like prey watches a predator—afraid, but unable to look away.
Imura shifted, placing Saya gently onto the folded jacket again. She whimpered softly but stayed asleep, her fingers twitching as if still reaching for him. Rin's eyes flickered at the movement, her jaw clenching tighter.
Then Imura crossed the floor toward Natsumi.
Her body tensed instantly, but she didn't move. Her pulse jumped in her throat, her breath quickened, but her eyes stayed locked on him.
He crouched in front of her, the dim light painting sharp shadows across his face. "You're still watching," he said softly, his voice carrying a weight that pressed against her chest.
Natsumi swallowed hard, her lips parting. "…You already know why."
Imura smirked faintly. "Because you can't stop."
Her fists clenched against her knees. "Because I need to know what you are," she whispered, her voice trembling.
He leaned closer, his hand brushing her hair back from her face. Her breath caught, her entire body stiffening under the faintest touch. His eyes locked on hers, unblinking, his words low and deliberate.
"You already do."
Her pulse raced, her breath faltered. She wanted to deny it, to push him away, but her body betrayed her. Her knees parted slightly, her back pressed harder against the wall, her lips trembling.
Imura's hand trailed from her hair down her cheek, his thumb brushing the corner of her lips. "Say it," he murmured.
Natsumi shook her head weakly, auburn strands falling across her flushed face. "I—I can't."
"You will." His voice was steady, inevitable, like gravity itself. "Or I'll make you show me instead."
Her gray eyes widened, her chest heaving. Her resolve cracked, splintered by the weight of his presence, by the heat curling in her stomach she couldn't suppress. Her hands trembled against her knees until finally, slowly, she reached up—grabbing his wrist, holding it to her face instead of pushing it away.
"…I hate you," she whispered, her voice breaking. "But I need you."
Imura's smile deepened.
And then he closed the distance.
His lips pressed against hers, firm, commanding, stealing the breath from her lungs. Her eyes fluttered shut instantly, her body jerking with shock, but then she melted, clinging to his wrist, her knees falling apart completely. Her lips moved against his desperately, hungrily, as though she had been starving without realizing it until now.
Across the room, Rin sat frozen, her nails biting into her skin, her entire body burning with jealousy and rage. Saya murmured his name again in her sleep, shifting restlessly, oblivious to what unfolded only a few feet away.
Imura deepened the kiss, his other hand sliding along Natsumi's thigh, gripping firmly, drawing a muffled gasp from her throat. Her body arched toward him involuntarily, her breath ragged, her sharpness shattered.
When he finally pulled back, her lips were swollen, her breath uneven, her eyes dazed. She clung to his wrist still, as though if he pulled away, she'd collapse.
"You've already fallen," he whispered against her ear.
Natsumi shuddered, her forehead pressing to his shoulder. "…I know."
And for the first time, her sharp eyes softened, surrendering to what she had fought against from the start.