The fire crackled low in the storehouse, the last scraps of scavenged wood feeding a meager warmth. Outside, the ruins groaned in the night wind. Inside, shadows swayed across four bedrolls laid out against the far wall, the glow of the lantern barely strong enough to hold back the dark.
Imura sat in silence, sharpening the blade he'd taken from a fallen scavenger days ago. The rhythmic scrape of steel on stone was steady, unhurried, like a heartbeat that filled the silence. He was calm, but he could feel the tension in the air—an invisible current threading between the girls, heavy enough to press against his skin.
Aiko had not left his side since he pulled her into the storehouse. She hovered now like a shadow of him, knees tucked, hair falling in messy waves across her shoulders. She had cleaned her face with the edge of her torn sleeve, but the redness lingered around her eyes. Her blouse hung open at one shoulder, exposing pale skin down to the curve of her chest, and though she tried to pull the fabric closed, her shaking hands betrayed her.
Every time he shifted, her eyes flicked to him. Every time the fire popped, she flinched, and her hand crept toward his sleeve. She hadn't eaten much—just a few bites from the can he'd given her—but she clung to the empty tin like it was proof she was still alive.
Across the fire, Saya sat curled up, blanket pulled high over her face. Her breathing was uneven. Imura didn't need to see her eyes to know they were wet. She hadn't spoken a word since the girl arrived. The silence from her corner was louder than anything else in the room.
Rin lay with her blade across her lap, eyes fixed on the flames. Her face was unreadable, but the stiffness in her shoulders betrayed her. She had not moved closer, had not spoken, had not eaten more than a mouthful. She stared into the fire as though it might burn away the thoughts chewing at her.
Natsumi leaned against the far wall, knife in hand, spinning it slowly between her fingers. Her expression was sharp, detached. She watched everything—Aiko's trembling, Saya's hidden sobs, Rin's silence, and Imura's steady control. She saw the shape of the chain wrapping itself around the new girl's throat, link by link. And she said nothing.
Imura finally set the blade aside. His gaze drifted to Aiko. She met his eyes and froze, like a rabbit caught in a hunter's sight. Then, slowly, she lowered her head, a flush rising across her cheeks.
"Lie down," he said simply.
Her lips parted in a soft gasp. "I… I can't… I won't sleep…"
"You will," he said, his voice calm, steady, unshakable. "You're safe now."
The words hit her harder than he expected. Her breath trembled. She swallowed, then crawled closer on her knees, hair falling over her shoulders. She hesitated only for a second before lowering herself onto the bedroll beside him, curling into the blanket he spread over her.
But when the lantern dimmed, she clutched at his shirt again. "Please… don't leave me… I'll die if you do…"
He leaned closer, his hand brushing the hair from her cheek, his fingers stroking the line of her jaw. She trembled, but didn't pull away. Her eyes shone in the firelight, wide, pleading.
"I'm here," he murmured.
She whimpered, her lips trembling, then pressed her face into his chest. Her small hands balled into his shirt, clinging desperately as though she might vanish if she let go.
From her corner, Saya made a broken sound, muffled into her blanket. Rin's grip on her blade tightened until her knuckles whitened. Natsumi turned her head away, lips pressed into a thin line.
Aiko shifted against him, her breath hot against his chest. "You saved me… no one ever…" Her voice cracked. "If you hadn't come, I… I…"
"You don't need to think about it." His hand stroked her back, down the line of her spine. She shivered under his touch, her body arching slightly, her breath catching in her throat.
Silence stretched. The fire crackled. The others lay frozen in their places, each of them listening, each of them drowning in their own storm of emotions.
Aiko tilted her head up, eyes wet, lips parted. "Don't let me go… please… I'll do anything…"
Her words hung in the air like a fragile thread. Imura let the smirk curl at the edge of his lips.
His hand trailed lower, brushing the torn hem of her blouse. She gasped softly, but didn't resist. Her eyes fluttered closed, and when his fingers traced the bare skin of her side, her body melted against him with a desperate, breathless whimper.
Her lips trembled. Then she pressed them against his chest, soft, hesitant, almost worshipful. The heat of her breath burned through the fabric.
Saya's muffled sobs grew louder. Rin's teeth ground together. Natsumi's knife stilled in her hand.
Imura tilted Aiko's chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Then show me."
Her eyes widened. Then, slowly, she nodded, her cheeks flushing deep crimson. Her hands shook as they slid to his waist, clinging to him as though offering herself was the only way she could prove her worth.
He leaned down, his lips brushing hers, light at first, almost teasing. She gasped into the kiss, her body jerking with the shock of it, but then she melted, her lips opening beneath his, desperate, needy, clumsy in her inexperience but raw in her desire.
Her fingers dug into him, her body pressing closer, every tremor a plea for more. He deepened the kiss, his hand sliding beneath her torn blouse, caressing the soft skin of her waist, moving higher. She moaned softly into his mouth, the sound breaking like glass in the silent room.
The fire crackled. The night pressed against the walls. And the chains clicked tighter around her.