Dawn crept slow, the ruined storehouse filling with pale gray light. The lantern had burned out in the night, leaving only the smell of cold wax and smoke. Outside, the city lay silent under the fog, ruins stretching endless, haunted by distant cries.
Inside, the air was thick with something heavier than dust.
Saya stirred first, curled against Imura's chest. Her lashes fluttered, and her lips parted with a soft whisper. "…Imura…"
Her hand tightened on his shirt as though afraid he'd vanish with the dream. She blinked awake, gaze finding him immediately. Relief bloomed across her face, fragile but radiant.
"You stayed…"
He brushed her cheek with his knuckles, calm. "I told you. You're mine."
Her cheeks flushed, and she buried her face against him, trembling with quiet joy.
Natsumi was already awake, sitting near the wall with her knife balanced across her knees. Her eyes were shadowed from lack of sleep, but sharper than ever, fixed on the pair in front of her. Each soft word, each gentle touch between them, burned like salt against an open wound. She wanted to look away, but her eyes betrayed her, dragged back every time.
But it was Rin whose silence hung heaviest.
She had fallen asleep kneeling near him, exhaustion finally overwhelming her body. Now she woke slowly, stiff and sore, her heart slamming the moment memory returned.
Her hands twitched against her lap. She remembered kneeling. She remembered the tears. She remembered leaning into his hand—his hand—and not pulling away.
Shame flushed hot across her face. She pressed her palms against her thighs, trembling.
Imura's eyes slid to her, calm, deliberate. "Morning."
She flinched as if struck. "Don't… talk to me."
But her voice broke, thin, unsteady.
Saya blinked, confused by the sharpness, but didn't move from his side. She only held him tighter, possessive even in innocence.
Imura's smirk was faint. "You're still here."
Her fists clenched. "I—" The words caught, choking her. "I had to… watch the perimeter. That's all."
"Of course." His tone was light, but the weight beneath it pressed deep.
Natsumi's gaze flicked between them, narrowing. She'd seen Rin kneel last night. She'd seen her break. The sight had gnawed at her all night, leaving jealousy curdled with a strange, reluctant satisfaction that Rin wasn't as untouchable as she seemed.
Breakfast was silent. Cold rations, chewed without taste. Saya ate from his hand like it was natural. Natsumi forced bites down, jaw tight. Rin touched nothing, her stomach twisting too violently.
But the real break came after.
Imura rose, stretching, his shadow long against the wall. "We'll scout another block today. Supplies here won't last."
Saya nodded instantly, eager. "I'll go with you."
Natsumi muttered, "Tch. Like always."
But Rin—Rin hesitated. She wanted to refuse, to say she'd stay, but the words stuck. The thought of him walking out without her made her chest clench painfully.
Imura's eyes caught hers. Calm. Knowing. "You coming?"
Her throat closed. Pride screamed to say no. Fear screamed louder.
"…yes."
The word slipped before she could stop it.
Saya blinked, surprised. Natsumi's brows furrowed.
Imura only smiled, faint and inevitable.
And just like that, Rin shackled herself tighter.
The city's silence swallowed them as they stepped outside, but inside Rin's chest, the noise was deafening. Every step beside him felt like surrender.
And every glance of his eyes reminded her—she had already begun to fall.