Ren sat on the second step of the stairs, elbows on knees, and let his thoughts roll over the last three days like a slow wind.

"It all started as a mess and turned into something useful," he murmured to himself. "Funny how that works."

He remembered the first night, the way his kidnapping had poured chaos into his whole life. He remembered Meiling staying with them, stubborn as a rock, refusing to go anywhere. He remembered Misa's cautious glances at her, the suspicion wrapped around her like a scarf.

"I didn't expect to see her," Ren said to himself, more to break the silence than to speak to anyone. "For some reason...seeing her really gives me a different kind of feeling now."

He glanced at the small holographic display flickered, showing a number he had watched climb without lifting a finger.

Affection:

Lan Meiling – 85% (You're mine, my beloved! my life!)

Ren snorted softly. "Not even I touch it and it goes up. Ridiculous. From 80 to 85 without even doing anything."

He could still picture the next morning. Their yard had been full of women in same uniform stamped with black and red dragon symbols. They ringed the house as if they were going to seige the house. It didn't take long for Misa and Ren to know these women were here because of none other than Meiling.

They saw how Meiling had planted her feet and refused to yield. For a heartbeat Ren thought they would also get into trouble, but then one of the guards bowed low, murmured a formal apology to Misa, and reached for Meiling.

"No," Meiling had said, firm, breath trembling just under the words. "I will not go."

The guard's hand had tightened. There was a strictness in her voice. "We have orders. Forgive us, Lady Meiling."

Ren's memory sharpened then, like a blade drawn. He remembered the look the guard threw toward Misa—a look full of both apology and strictness.

"Well at least I know I can keep improving Imperial Qi if I am with her and somehow I genuinely love her too," he told the empty hallway.

His thoughts slid to Luxy. He smiled without meaning to. Now she moved around Misa as if she had always belonged, laughing when Misa laughed, leaning in when Misa spoke and talking things Misa wants to hear. Every small gesture was exactly the script Ren had been teaching her.

"If Misa trusts Luxy, then I have an advantage," he said. "This is the perfect chance for me to plant the seed that Luxy is the best dungeon partner for me."

He loved the ease with which plans unfolded and how everything bad turned into his faovur.

Then, without warning, the smile fell away and a shadow crossed his features. He saw her face, that other face. Lan Xue. The name arrived in his mind like a splinter.

He breathed. The calm he kept for others failed him. "Lan Xue."

The memory of her was jagged and sharp. He remembered the way she touched him and kissed him, the cold patience, the way she had smiled while enjoying assaulting Ren.

"You don't get to die," he said, the words pure and ugly with memory. He could feel his jaw clench. "You won't get to rest. I will make sure of that."

Anger flared in Ren's chest so he wanted to cool down. He went down the stairs, feet light, thoughts heavy to take some fresh air.

The living room smelled faintly of jasmine. Misa was curled on the couch, knees drawn up, hair a soft tangle across the pillow. Dark bruises of tiredness sat under her eyes. She had tried to keep up a brave face during the day and lost in the evening.

He watched her for a long time. He watched the rhythm of her breath. He watched the tiny flutter of her lashes when she turned in her sleep.

Tachibana Misa – 50% (50/50 gamble on love...Still not decided)

He let out a noise he tried to pass as amusement and then knelt by the couch. "So much care," he said, and reached out to smooth a stray lock of hair from her forehead.

Her skin was warm. He could feel the steady beat of her pulse under his fingers. His hand lingered, then moved to the top of her head, where he patted softly, as if coaxing a small animal.

"I don't know what kind of secret you have," he said into the quiet, more to her sleeping form than to the house. "You hide things but I don't mind since I care about you, not in the cruel sense."

"You are one of the woman I don't want to see trying to kill me," he murmured, smiling. "I could keep my distance. I could put walls between us and be clean."

He thought of the theory, of the possible outcomes. Distance could protect both of them. Distance could prevent him from being dragged into the whirl of jealous obsessions, of the predictable spirals of the yandere curse that marked and will mark women who loves him.

"But then I would never get to pet her head like this," he said, voice softening as he brushed his fingers across her hair again. "And I would never get to hear her laugh when she thinks no one is listening. No. That is a problem."

"You could become like those girls," he admitted. "Possessive, obsessive. But is that a reason to close off? I don't want to. I will make sure you don't end up like that even without any barriers."

Ren's heart pounded like a drum in his chest as he sat on the edge of the table next to sofa, staring at Misa's sleeping form. "What a wonderful view!"

She lay there in a thin tank top and shorts, her chest rising and falling with each breath. Normally, she would wear something traditional to sleep, but recently she had started wearing more comfortable clothing, since Hiyori insisted that she do so instead of sleeping in her usual kimono.

But something was wrong—terribly, embarrassingly wrong. A sudden wave of heat surged through him, starting from Ren's core and spreading like wildfire. He glanced down, his eyes widening in shock at the massive bulge straining against his shorts.

"There's no way," Ren muttered under his breath, his voice a hoarse whisper. "I just got a boner looking at Misa like this? She's just sleeping..."

He tried to look away, but his gaze kept drifting back to her. Misa shifted in her sleep, her body moving with an unintentional grace that made his pulse quicken. She rolled slightly onto her side, her full breasts pressing against the fabric of her tank top, jiggling softly with the motion.

The thin material clung to her curves, outlining the perfect swell of her chest. Her long lashes fluttered against her cheeks, her lips parted just enough to let out a soft sigh.

As she adjusted again, arching her back ever so slightly, her boobs bounced gently, the nipples hardening faintly against the top forming a little mountain. Her face was the picture of adult beauty—rosy cheeks, a peaceful expression, but there was something alluring about the way her hair cascaded over her pillow, framing her delicate features.

Ren swallowed hard, his mouth dry. "Fuck, she's beautiful," he whispered to himself, his hand twitching at his side.

He couldn't stop staring. His body betrayed him further, the ache in his shorts growing unbearable. Slowly, almost as if in a trance, Ren reached out. His fingers trembled as they hovered near her face. "Misa... you're driving me crazy without even knowing it," he murmured, his voice barely audible.

His fingertips finally made contact, brushing against her cheek. Her skin was warm, silky smooth under his touch. He caressed her face gently, tracing the curve of her jawline, then up to her plump lips.

They were soft, inviting, slightly parted as if waiting for him. Ren's breath hitched. "These lips... I've wondered what they'd feel like," he confessed in a whisper, his thumb grazing her lower lip, feeling the subtle moisture there.

Misa's face twitched slightly in her "sleep," her brows furrowing just a fraction. But her eyes remained closed, her breathing steady though inside, her mind was a whirlwind. What the hell is going on? she thought, her heart racing. Is Ren touching me? Oh goddess, why is he doing this? I should stop him... but... it feels... weirdly good?

Evne though she was supposed to be in a deep sleep, she wasn't sleeping at all.

Ren didn't notice the subtle change. Encouraged by her lack of response, his hand trailed lower. He hesitated at her collarbone, then dipped further, his palm cupping one of her breasts through the tank top.

The fullness filled his hand perfectly, soft yet firm. "Fuck, they're so perfect," he groaned softly, squeezing gently. Her boob yielded under his grip, the nipple perking up against his palm. He fondled it slowly, rolling it between his fingers, feeling the fabric tease the sensitive peak.

Misa's face flushed deeper, her lips pressing together as she bit back a gasp. In her mind, she was screaming. Ren! What are you doing? This is insane! My boobs... he's grabbing them like that? It tingles... oh no, why does it feel so... intense? I have to pretend I'm asleep, or this will be so awkward

"Isn't this something women are supposed to do to men? If so, why does it feel so good?" Misa kept thinking, her eyes still closed. "Ren...don't do this or else I might not be able to hold back."