The storehouse still smelled of dust and blood. Even though the monster's body had been dragged outside, the echo of its death seemed to linger in the air. Silence stretched heavy across the room, broken only by shallow breaths and the faint hiss of the lantern flame.
Imura lowered the trembling girl he had caught at the doorway onto one of the bedrolls. She clung to his arm all the way down, her fingers shaking so violently he could feel them even through the fabric of his sleeve. When she finally sat, she hugged her knees and pressed her forehead against them, shoulders quivering as though she would collapse if left alone for even a second.
Her name—Aiko—had spilled out of her mouth in a panicked whisper. It was the only thing she'd been able to give them between sobs and gasps. Now, in the quiet aftermath, the others finally had the chance to study her.
The lantern light caught on the mess of her hair: long, pitch-black strands falling in waves, tangled with dirt and leaves, some of them clinging wetly to her tear-streaked cheeks. Her face was soft, delicate, her eyes too large, shining even through the redness of crying. Her lips trembled, parted slightly as though she was always on the edge of another sob.
Her clothes were barely holding together. A blouse torn open at one shoulder exposed the pale curve of skin beneath, the sharp line of her collarbone visible in the flickering glow. The fabric was stained, thin from wear, clinging damply to her frame in places. Her skirt was worse: shredded at the hem, it rode high on her thighs, leaving long stretches of bare skin exposed—skin marred by faint bruises and scratches that only made her look more fragile.
Rin had forced herself to sit across the room, her back straight, her blade balanced across her knees. She didn't look at Aiko directly, but her peripheral vision refused to let her ignore the way Imura crouched close, his hand brushing the girl's hair back from her face. Every stroke of his fingers burned in Rin's stomach like acid, reminding her of the night before, reminding her of her own collapse.
Saya sat curled tightly in the corner, knees hugged to her chest, her gaze fixed on the floorboards. Her lips trembled, but she bit them to keep them shut. If she looked at him—if she looked at the new girl pressed so easily into his orbit—she knew she would break again.
Natsumi leaned against the far wall, her knife loose in one hand. Her sharp eyes never left the pair at the center of the room. She had no softness left to waste on trembling strangers. Survivors didn't last this long by accident. And yet… she could see the way the girl shook, the way her eyes clung to Imura as if the mere sight of him was keeping her alive. That wasn't a lie. That was dependency.
Imura's voice broke the silence, soft and steady. "Breathe. You're safe now."
Aiko's sob hitched. She looked up at him, her wide eyes glassy. "I… I thought I was going to die… It was chasing me for hours, I couldn't… I couldn't run anymore…"
Her words spilled between hiccups, broken by tremors that shook her small frame.
Imura reached out, his hand brushing the tears from her cheek with the same inevitability as before. His thumb lingered against her skin, and her breath caught. She leaned into the touch without meaning to, like a flower bending toward the sun.
Rin's grip tightened on her blade. Saya's nails dug into her arms until they left angry red marks. Natsumi narrowed her eyes, her suspicion twisting into something colder: calculation.
Aiko's sobs spilled again. She grabbed Imura's hand with both of hers, holding it against her face, pressing into the warmth. "Don't leave me… please… don't leave me…"
His smirk was faint but undeniable. "I won't."
The words fell into her chest like a promise carved in stone. Her trembling slowed, her body curling toward him, seeking heat, seeking security.
Silence wrapped around the others like a noose. Saya buried her face in her knees, tears spilling silently. Rin looked away, but her stomach churned, her body remembering how it had felt to need him the same way. Natsumi's knife twitched in her grip.
They shared a meal in uneasy quiet. Cans opened, the smell of stale beans filling the room. Aiko sat beside Imura, every movement careful, deferential. When he passed her a tin, her hands shook so badly that half spilled down her chin. She flushed, ashamed, but when he reached to wipe it away with his thumb, her heart nearly leapt out of her chest.
Saya's appetite died at the sight. Rin ate mechanically, eyes shadowed. Natsumi didn't touch her food, too busy watching every flicker of expression across the new girl's face.
As the night wore on, Aiko drifted closer and closer. By the time the lantern burned low, she was pressed against Imura's side, her head tucked beneath his chin, her breath warm against his chest.
He said nothing. He didn't need to. Every gesture, every word he had spoken since she'd appeared had been enough to close the collar around her neck.
Saya wept silently into her bedroll, muffling her sobs with her blanket. Rin sat frozen, blade across her lap, unable to look away from the outline of their bodies against the lantern glow. Natsumi lay awake, eyes sharp, the weight of inevitability pressing down on her chest.
Aiko, trembling, clutched Imura's shirt with both hands as though she'd vanish if she let go. Her lips moved against his chest, whispering a single broken phrase over and over.
"Don't leave me… don't leave me… don't leave me…"
And he held her, calm, steady, the faint smirk never leaving his face.
Another chain had clicked shut.