The second night in the ruined storehouse pressed heavier than the first. The lantern's flame flickered low, shadows stretching long across the walls. Outside, distant howls rolled through the dead city, but inside it was a different kind of storm.
Saya was asleep in Imura's arms again, her breathing soft and uneven. Her fingers clung even in dreams, as if letting go meant vanishing forever.
Natsumi lay on her side, eyes half-shut but awake, her chest tight with restless envy. Every soft sound from Saya made her jaw clench harder.
And Rin… Rin hadn't moved for hours. She sat against the far wall, arms wrapped tight, eyes sharp but wild beneath the surface.
Imura broke the silence first. His voice was low, steady. "You're still fighting yourself."
Rin's head snapped up, her glare sharp enough to cut. "You think you know me?"
"I don't need to think. I see it." He stroked Saya's hair absently, eyes never leaving Rin. "Every glance, every twitch, every time you almost speak but don't. You're already mine—you just hate that it's true."
Her breath hitched, anger flashing. "You're wrong."
"Then prove it." His tone was calm, but heavy. "Stand up. Walk out that door. Leave me behind. If you really don't need me, it should be easy."
The room froze. Even Natsumi's breath caught.
Rin's lips parted, her body trembling. She wanted to move, to push to her feet, to prove him wrong. But her legs refused. Every muscle locked, heavy as chains.
Imura's smirk deepened, subtle and sharp. "See?"
Rin's nails bit into her palms until blood welled. "Shut up…"
"You couldn't let me fall yesterday. You can't walk away today. You already chose me—you're just too stubborn to admit it."
Her chest heaved, heat flooding her face. She hated him—no, she hated herself more. Every word felt like a mirror she couldn't look away from.
Natsumi shifted uncomfortably, torn between pity and relief that Rin was the one cornered now.
Imura didn't stop. His voice dipped lower, a thread of iron beneath velvet. "You can keep pretending. But each day, each night, you'll sink deeper. You'll cling tighter. And when you finally break, it won't be because I forced you. It'll be because you chose to."
Something inside Rin snapped. She shot up to her feet, fists shaking. "I will never—!"
Her words choked. Tears burned at the edges of her eyes, hot and furious. She staggered forward, fists clenched, and before she knew it, she was standing right in front of him.
Saya stirred faintly in his lap but didn't wake. Natsumi held her breath.
Imura tilted his head, eyes locking onto Rin's, calm and merciless.
"Then why are you standing here?"
Rin's body froze. Her chest heaved, her breath ragged. She wanted to hit him, to scream, to run—but none of it happened. Instead, she trembled, trapped in the gravity of his presence.
Her tears spilled, hot streaks down her cheeks. "I… hate you…" she whispered, voice breaking.
Imura reached out slowly, deliberately. His hand hovered, then brushed a strand of her hair back behind her ear. His touch was gentle, almost tender.
"You'll hate me even more when you realize you can't let me go."
Her knees buckled. She didn't collapse, but she dropped to a crouch, covering her face with her hands.
For the first time, Rin didn't look like the unshakable blade she pretended to be. She looked human. Fragile.
And Imura knew he'd won another step.
The silence that followed was deafening. Saya mumbled in her sleep, Natsumi swallowed hard, and Rin's quiet sobs filled the air.
Imura leaned back, eyes glinting. He didn't push further. Not yet.
Because cracks, once made, only ever spread.