The ruined store had never felt so suffocating.
The air was thick, humid with the heat of bodies and the storm of emotions rattling through the room. Saya slept fitfully, her lips shaping Imura's name even in dreams. Rin sat rigid in the corner, gray eyes burning holes into the scene she couldn't look away from. And Natsumi…
Natsumi was breaking.
Her lips still tingled from the kiss, her chest rising and falling too fast, her auburn hair clinging to her flushed cheeks. She clung to Imura's wrist as though it anchored her, her sharp eyes dazed, swimming in heat and confusion.
Imura didn't let her retreat. He leaned back in slowly, brushing her lips again, softer this time but no less commanding. She inhaled sharply, then yielded, her mouth opening under his, her breath swallowed in a low, muffled moan.
Her knees parted instinctively, her thighs trembling as his hand slid higher, fingertips grazing the edge of bare skin beneath the torn hem of her shorts. Her breath hitched, her back pressing harder against the wall, her body arching despite herself.
"Imura…" she whispered against his lips, trembling. "We can't—"
"We already are," he murmured back, his voice steady, inevitable, pulling the words from her mouth before she could finish.
Rin's nails dug crescents into her palms, her face hot, shameful fury burning through her as she watched. She wanted to scream, to look away—but she couldn't. Every movement froze her in place, every sound from Natsumi's lips made her body pulse in ways she couldn't control.
Imura's hand slid further up Natsumi's thigh, gripping firmly, pulling a sharp gasp from her throat. Her fingers clutched at his shoulders now, holding him close, her breath uneven, her lips desperate against his.
His touch climbed higher still, brushing against the soft heat between her legs through the thin fabric. She jolted, her gasp muffled by his mouth, her thighs clenching around his hand.
"Say it," he whispered, pressing against her just enough to make her tremble harder. "Say what you want."
Her eyes squeezed shut, her lip caught between her teeth, her breath ragged. For a moment, she fought—pride, fear, all the walls she had built around herself. And then the dam broke.
"…I want you," she gasped, voice breaking. "Please—"
The sound of it undid her.
Imura's smirk deepened. His hand pressed firmer, rubbing slow circles that made her moan into his mouth, her hips jerking unconsciously, her nails digging into his skin. Every sound, every twitch of her body was raw surrender, her sharpness dissolved into desperate need.
Rin bit her lip so hard she tasted blood, her whole body trembling. Saya stirred in her sleep, whimpering faintly, shifting toward where Imura should have been.
And Natsumi—Natsumi fell apart under his hand, her moans muffled against his mouth, her body arching and trembling until she broke completely, gasping his name through ragged breaths.
When it was over, she collapsed against him, forehead buried in his chest, her auburn hair damp against her flushed skin. Her breath came in shallow pants, her body trembling still, her sharp eyes clouded and wet.
"I… I can't fight you," she whispered, broken, her voice cracking.
"You don't need to," Imura murmured back, stroking her hair with calculated gentleness. "You just need to stay."
She clung to him then, just as Saya always did, just as Rin was beginning to.
Three women. Three threads.
And every one of them, tied to him.