CHAPTER 51: NIGHTFALL HEAT [AKANE]

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We were walking back, fingers loosely interlocked, the sky overhead deepening into twilight. A soft breeze tousled Akane’s hair as we crossed the last corner toward home. She looked at me with a little smirk, cheeks lightly flushed from the gym.

"Don’t worry," she said casually, bumping her shoulder against mine. "Since we trained hard today, I’ll go easy tonight. No... activities. Just sleeping. I promise."

I blinked. "Oh. Uh, right. Cool."

I didn’t know whether to feel relieved or completely offended. I mean, was I that easily dismissed? But also... was I safe?

My brain didn’t know how to feel. My body, however, was just thankful for rest.

When we got back to the house, the moment the front door swung open, we were met with a wall of stares. Ayame was seated cross-legged on the floor, polishing her dagger for no reason at all. Mei had a towel draped around her neck like she’d just come from her own workout. Rin was sipping tea by the window, pretending not to watch, while Elira peeked out from behind the couch like a startled kitten.

"You two were gone a while," Ayame said flatly, narrowing her eyes.

"Did you eat?" Rin added quickly, almost like it was code for something else.

"Yeah," I said, scratching the back of my head. "We grabbed something at the café before leaving the gym."

Akane yawned, clearly unbothered by the interrogation. "I need a shower," she said, already walking toward the hall. "You all are free to gossip about me while I’m gone."

And with that, she disappeared.

The moment she was out of sight, the room shifted.

Mei folded her arms and leaned in close, eyes narrowing like she was about to give me a warning before a storm.

"You’re aware Akane’s not exactly known for being gentle, right?"

I blinked. "She literally said she’s just going to sleep."

Mei gave me a pitying smile. "Sure, and I said I’d only hold your hand during movie night. We both know how that ended."

I didn’t know how to respond to that.

"She doesn’t look like it," Elira chimed in quietly from the couch, her cheeks pink. She peeked at me from behind a throw pillow like it was armor. "But she’s intense. Like, scary intense. If she decides she’s ready, there’s no off switch."

"That’s... comforting," I muttered.

Rin set her teacup down with a delicate clink. Her expression was unreadable, but her voice held that same soothing sharpness she always used when saying something absolutely terrifying.

"Just be careful, Ren. You might think you’re in control... until you’re not." She tilted her head. "And by the time you realize it, well... she’ll already be on top."

I swear I stopped breathing for a second.

Then there was Ayame.

She didn’t speak. Didn’t raise a brow. Didn’t tease or offer a warning.

She just stood, walked over to me slowly, and gave me a single pat on the back—firm, steady, final.

Like I was a soldier heading into war.

Or maybe... a sacrificial lamb.

Then she whispered, "Good luck," and walked past me without another glance.

I stood there frozen, their words swirling in my head like ghosts whispering around a campfire.

My hands were clammy. My brain was glitching. My legs? Not listening to me anymore.

It was just sleep tonight, right?

Right?

I forced a chuckle and tried to act unfazed as I muttered a half-hearted "Goodnight," then slipped away toward the hallway, leaving behind four sets of very concerned—and far too amused—eyes.

As I reached the door to my room, I hesitated. For a long second, I just stood there, staring at the handle like it was a bomb switch.

Then I pushed it open.

The room was quiet.

Dark.

Empty.

Relief and confusion tangled together in my chest. No Akane. No seductive lighting. No sensual music or ominous glowing candles.

I let out a slow breath and stepped in, closing the door behind me. The soft click echoed louder than it should have.

Still nothing.

No sound. No footsteps down the hall. Just silence.

I sat down on the edge of the bed, trying not to let my imagination run wild—but it was already sprinting laps.

What if she came in with a robe and a plan? What if the towel "accidentally" dropped? What if—

I slapped my cheeks lightly.

"Get it together, man. It’s just sleep. Just company. She said so herself."

But still... the way she smiled when she said it.

The glint in her eye.

The fact that she specifically said "I’ll go easy tonight." Not "nothing will happen." Not "I’m too tired."

Just... easy.

Which could mean anything. Or everything.

My heart thumped like it was trying to kick down my ribs and escape.

I laid back on the bed, arms splayed out, eyes staring at the ceiling.

Waiting.

Not sure if I wanted the door to open or stay shut forever.

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I lay there for what felt like forever, staring at the ceiling like it had answers. It didn’t.

My pulse was still out of control, my thoughts all tangled in the warnings the girls left echoing in my head.

Eventually, I sat up.

"Shower. That’ll help. Clear your head."

Peeling off my shirt, I walked toward the bathroom door. The cool air against my skin did little to settle the heat rising under it.

I reached for the handle, twisted it, and opened the door—

—and immediately froze.

Akane was there.

Not dressed. Not remotely.

Just stepping out of the steamy bathroom, her skin glistening and flushed, a towel barely hanging on her hips. Her long crimson hair was damp and loose, clinging to her collarbone, her cheeks tinted with surprise.

She jolted slightly, the towel shifting dangerously, and for a heartbeat we both just stared—neither of us moving, neither of us breathing.

Time stopped.

Then something shifted.

We moved at the same time—like it had been waiting to happen.

My hand slid around her waist. Her arms wrapped up around my neck.

And just like that, the towel slipped to the floor between us.

Our mouths crashed together, urgent, heated. Her lips were soft but full of fire, her breath already ragged as she pulled me closer like she couldn’t get enough.

I lifted her without thinking—hands gripping the curve of her back, her skin still warm from the shower—and she instinctively wrapped her legs around me, locking us together.

I stumbled backward into the room with her in my arms, our mouths never parting, every step burning hotter than the last.

By the time we reached the bed, I wasn’t thinking anymore.

Just feeling.

Her weight in my arms. Her heartbeat against my chest. Her fingers buried in my hair.

I lowered her gently onto the mattress, and she pulled me down with her, breathless and wanting.

And in that moment, there were no more warnings.

No more doubts.

Just the two of us, wrapped in each other, and the long night ahead.

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She was under me now. Skin against skin. Breath against breath.

I could feel the rapid beat of her heart through her chest. The rise and fall of her breath as her body pressed against mine. Every inch of us aligned in a way that blurred the line between thought and instinct.

Her fingers were tangled in my hair, her lips parted, warm, flushed, waiting.

And gods... I wanted her. More than I’d ever wanted anything.

But just as we were teetering over that edge, I felt a flicker of hesitation deep in my gut.

I pulled back.

Not because I didn’t want her. But because I wanted her too much.

And that scared me.

"Ren?" Akane’s voice was soft beneath me, her eyes flickering with a mixture of surprise and concern. "What’s wrong?"

I breathed hard, my forehead pressed lightly against hers. "I... I think we should stop."

She blinked once. Then, slowly, she nodded.

"Yeah," she said, exhaling with a breathless smile. "That’s probably for the best."

I rolled off her gently, lying beside her for a moment in silence, both of us staring at the ceiling like it might offer us a distraction from what we almost did.

She sat up, her crimson hair falling in damp waves around her shoulders, and reached for the clothes she’d left on the nearby couch. I watched her stand, stretching slightly, and begin slipping back into her clothes—one piece at a time.

I didn’t mean to stare. I really didn’t.

But I did.

And then she looked back.

Our eyes met.

Something sparked.

No words passed between us—but it hit us both like a match to dry leaves.

She moved first.

I followed.

In two steps, we collided again—desperate, frantic, like the pause had only stoked the fire burning between us.

Our lips crashed once more, deeper this time. Hungrier. Her shirt half-buttoned, my hands sliding under it. I pulled her close and she melted against me, her fingers running across my bare chest like she was trying to memorize every line, every scar, every breath.

The world spun.

And somewhere in that spin, I felt it.

Like gravity—but stronger. Deeper.

Something was pulling me.

Into her.

Toward her.

Through her.

And I could feel it in her, too. Like something unusual and unsaid had been waiting for this moment to snap into place.

I didn’t know what it was.

Didn’t understand it.

Didn’t care.

I kissed her again, harder, and she moaned softly against my mouth, her legs wrapping around me, pulling me in as if she’d made the same decision I had.

Let go.

Forget the warnings.

Forget the world.

Tonight, we’d burn.

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