Chapter 337: Between Lightning and Silk
Malik's eyelids fluttered open, much to his dismay.
"Ugh. No," he whispered to no one in particular, dragging a hand down his face. "Betrayed… by my own body clock. Again."
He squinted at the faint glow of morning bleeding through the frost-glass windowpanes. He could tell from the quality of the light that dawn had only just started to gnaw at the horizon, or the fake horizon they made inside this giant mountain. Still early. Still too early for any sane man to be awake.
And yet here he was.
Part of him knew it was time. He needed to return to the capital, meet with Koyuki Kazahana herself—the Land of Snow's dazzling Daimyō and most famous actress—to give his check-in before eventually heading home to the Leaf. Duty called. Appointments waited.
The problem?
Malik was pinned.
Not metaphorically. Not emotionally. Literally pinned.
Two enormous, soft, dangerously warm bosoms had him locked in place, one on either side of his head like fluffy, irresistible prison bars. His face was pressed into a pillowy valley that smelled faintly of perfume, sweat, and something uniquely them—Ranke on one side, Kamira on the other. Both very naked. Both very asleep.
He groaned into the softness. "Why is this my life? I didn't sign up for the 'human-ish plush toy program'—"
Except he had. Kind of.
The memories of last night flooded back to him, clear and hot.
He had just gotten back from the archives with Haku, still glowing with exhaustion and relief, when he'd finally stumbled toward his room. He had been ready—desperate, really—for nothing but sleep. The universe, however, had other plans.
Ranke and Kamira were already waiting.
Ranke leaned against his doorway like she owned it, arms folded under her frilled, golden mane of hair, violet eyes glinting with mischief. Kamira lounged beside her with a silken robe that was only half-tied and a smirk that could have started wars.
"Oh look," Ranke had drawled. "The prodigal incubus returns. About time."
Kamira arched a brow, lips curving. "Mhm. You're late. Which means compensation is required. I'm very reasonable—I'll accept cuddles."
"Correction," Ranke cut in, stepping forward. "I'm getting cuddles. You snore, and you hog blankets."
"I do not snore."
"You hum like a drunk flute."
"It's soothing."
"To corpses maybe."
Malik had blinked at them both, dead tired. "...Are you seriously arguing over who gets to sleep in my bed? Without asking me?"
"Yes," they said in unison.
Malik had sighed. "Figures."
Neither of them relented. They bickered over the finer points of each other's sleeping habits—Kamira claiming Ranke shocked her in the middle of the night with stray static; Ranke declaring Kamira tangled her legs like a strangler vine. Neither listened to Malik's protests. Both edged closer.
By the time he'd opened his mouth to object again, Ranke had leaned down, cupped his face, and kissed him hard enough to knock every thought out of his skull. Kamira followed immediately after, yanking him by his collar and pressing her lips to his with a sultry growl of her own.
And just like that, the argument had shifted from words to action.
Malik's exhaustion had been devoured by their heat, their insistence, their sheer refusal to let him slip away into sleep. Ranke's lightning sparks against his skin. Kamira's silken tease. His own surrender, inevitable and whole.
It had been a long, dizzy, very spicy night.
And when it ended, all three of them had collapsed into his bed in a heap of tangled limbs, laughter, and exhausted sighs.
Now, in the cold light of dawn, Malik was paying the price.
Ranke clung to him with storm-born stubbornness, one arm looped tight around his chest, her legs tangled over his thighs. Even in sleep, she radiated warmth and static, little crackles sparking now and then against his skin. Her large breasts pressed firmly against his arm and shoulder, rising and falling with her deep, steady breaths.
Kamira, on the other hand, had draped herself like silk incarnate across his other side, one bare leg hooked over his waist, her soft curves molding perfectly against him. Her bosom pillowed the other half of his face, her breath feathering lightly against his curls as she muttered something unintelligible in her sleep.
Each time Malik shifted, they both reacted unconsciously.
Ranke squeezed tighter.
Kamira slid closer.
He tried once—just once—to slip free. Bad idea. Ranke mumbled in her sleep, "Mine," and Kamira, not to be outdone, hooked her arm more securely around his waist.
Malik gave up, flopping his head back into the valley of warmth.
"Nope," he muttered to himself. "Escape is impossible. Guess I live here now. Farewell, Leaf Village. Farewell, Daimyō. Farewell, actual responsibilities."
He sighed, staring at the ceiling. "Y'know… there are worse prisons. Soft. Warm. Kinda smells like perfume and mischief."
Ranke murmured something again and shifted, her frilled hair falling across his chest. Kamira nuzzled deeper against his side, lips brushing his collarbone as if she knew exactly what that would do to him.
Malik shut his eyes, torn between laughter and despair.
Nope. The best he could hope for was one of them waking up first… or him falling back to sleep.
Until then?
He was stuck.
Hopelessly. Blissfully. Maddeningly stuck.
The air in the room hangs heavy with sleep's languid embrace, thick with the musk of shared pleasure and morning's reluctant arrival. Malik's breathing stirs the loose strands of Ranke's hair still draped across his chest, the faint static charge making his skin prickle despite his exhaustion. Kamira's thigh presses against his hip, her silk-smooth skin warm where it meets his, her breaths coming in the steady rhythm of deep slumber. A slow shift of pressure draws his attention downward—Ranke's arm tightens reflexively around him, fingers splaying possessively across his back as she murmurs something unintelligible.
The motion pulls her closer, her breast pressing harder against his shoulder while Kamira's leg slides higher up his torso in response. Outside, the mountain's artificial dawn crawls across the horizon, painting the frost-glass windows in hues of deep indigo and bruised gold.
Malik thought for a moment.
He knew they would be better off getting up now, so he slowly but surely moved his hands, one crawling toward Ranke's slit between her legs, the other sliding to Kamira's fat breasts, reaching for her nipple.
Ranke's breath catches audibly as Malik's fingers find the slick heat between her thighs, her body arching instinctively into his touch despite the groggy half-sleep clouding her thoughts. A low, throaty hum vibrates against his chest as she presses her forehead against his collarbone, strands of her frilled hair sticking to the sweat still drying on Malik's skin. Her inner muscles clench around his invading fingers, a fresh slickness coating his knuckles as she grinds down against his palm. On the other side of him, Kamira stirs at the sudden movement, her lashes fluttering open to reveal slitted pupils dilating in the dim light, her beatyful red eyes slightly glowing, Her Bat tail flicks lazily behind her as she lifts her head, lips parting around a slow yawn that stretches her face into something almost feline before turning back into a human form. "M'not done with you yet," she murmurs, voice rough with sleep and arousal, reaching up to trap his wrist against her breast.
Malik smiled at Kamira, moving his face closer for a kiss, "Sorry, this is just a wake-up call, no sexy time this time, sorry."
Kamira's lips curl into a knowing smirk, her tail coiling lazily around Malik's thigh as she pulls him closer. "Wake-up call, huh?" she purrs, dragging her nails lightly down his chest. "Funny, I don't remember you setting an alarm."
Her hand slides lower, fingertips tracing down of his abdomen, stopping just short of his groin. "But I guess if you're so concerned about being a gentleman, I can help you out with that... wake-up call." She shifts her hips, grinding against his side as she brings her face close to his ear. "Unless you're saying you don't want to play?" Her tongue flicks out, tasting the sweat at his neck. "Because you sure seemed eager to join the party earlier."
Malik rolls his eyes at Kamira before turning his head to see Ranke waking up, "We need to get ready, I don't want this to be too long of a day."
Ranke stretches against him, her muscles flexing beneath smooth skin as she lets out a slow, luxurious yawn. The movement makes her hair cascade like liquid gold over her bare shoulders, the scent of crushed violets and sleep-warmed skin clinging to her. She blinks up at Malik with half-lidded eyes, the gold flecks in her irises catching from the dawn light. "Mmm. You're the one who started this," she murmurs, dragging a fingertip down his sternum to where Kamira's hand still lingers. "Can't blame us for wanting an encore." Kamira clicks her tongue but finally relents, rolling away in a sinuous motion that makes the sheets cling to her curves before sliding off the bed entirely. The morning air raises goosebumps along her thighs as she pads toward the closet, her wings rustling lazily behind her. "Fine, fine. But you owe me."
Malik sat up and watched as Kamira walked toward the closet, her body transforming back into its human form from its bat-like one, her skin smoothing out, and her long hair changing from its silver-white back into brown. Malik was more focused on her ass bouncing and her large breasts jiggling.
Ranke catches the direction of Malik's gaze and smirks, propping herself up on one elbow as she watches Kamira disappear into the closet. "You're terrible," she teases, though there's no real bite to it. The morning light catches the gold in her hair as she stretches, the motion making the sheets pool around her waist.
Her fingers trail down her own stomach, stopping just above the patch of blonde curls below. "But since you're so concerned about time..." She reaches over to where her clothes lie discarded on the floor, fishing through them until she finds her panties. "There's a faster way to get ready." Her own large breasts bounced as she moved out of the bed. "Unless you'd rather spend the morning tangled up with us again?" The challenge in her voice is undercut by the way her fingers still toy with her panties, her gaze fixed on him with that particular intensity she gets when she's plotting something.
"Maybe, one kiss, but that's it," he told himself as he moved to her, his hands moving to hold her big boobs, weighing them in his hands.
Ranke's breath hitches as Malik's hands envelop her breasts, her head tilting back with a soft moan. The morning light catches the curve of her throat as she arches into his touch, her skin already flushed with arousal.
Her fingers twist in the sheets, bunching the fabric beneath her as she presses herself closer, the soft give of her body molding against his. "Mmm, you're a terrible liar," she murmurs, her voice husky as she reaches up to curl her fingers in his hair.
She tugs him down for that promised kiss, her lips parting against his with a slow, deliberate press. Her tongue darts out to trace the seam of his mouth, teasing, tasting, as her other hand slides down his chest to rest on his hip.
The heat of her body burns against his, her nipples hardening beneath his palms as she shifts closer, her bare thigh brushing against his groin.
Malik lets out a soft growl as he smiles up at her, pulling her down on the bed, spreading her legs, his hard dark cock already up as he moves closer to her, "How am I a Liar?" he asked pressing his dick close to her hot and wet center.
Ranke's laughter bubbles up against his lips as he presses her back into the sheets, her golden hair fanning out around her like sunlight across the dark fabric. Her thighs part willingly beneath his weight, the heat of her body searing through the thin layer of skin between them. "Because," she breathes, arching up to grind against him with a slow, teasing roll of her hips, "you said just one kiss. And yet..." Her fingers trail down his back, nails scraping lightly against skin as she reaches between them, wrapping her hand around his cock with a confident grip.
She guides him toward her entrance, her own body slick with need, her breathing already quickening. "You never specified how long that kiss could last." The challenge in her voice dissolves into a gasp as he presses against her, her inner muscles fluttering around him. From the closet, Kamira's laughter echoes, the sound rich with amusement. "Took you long enough."
Kamira, who was already half-dressed, started to remove her clothes as she crawled on the bed, pressing herself on Malik's back. As Malik pushed deeper into Ranke, and as he felt Kamira's fat and large naked tits push on his back, he turned his head to look at Kamira, her deep red eyes hungry, "Would you call me a liar too, Kamira?" he asked as he started to enter and exit Ranke's pussy with speed.
Kamira's smirk widens, her face inches from Malik's as her soft lips brush his ear. "Oh, I'd call you a lot of things, handsome," she purrs, her breath hot against his skin.
She trails her fingers down his back, nails leaving faint scratches as she moves closer, her heavy breasts pressing more firmly against him. "But 'liar' would be awfully far down the list." She shifts her hips, grinding against him as he continues thrusting into Ranke.
Her tongue darts out to trace the curve of his ear before she nips at his lobe, her free hand sliding around to his chest. "I'd call you eager," she whispers, her voice dripping with lust. "Insatiable. Maybe even a little greedy." Her hand travels lower, fingertips teasing at the base of his cock where it enters Ranke. "But then again, what kind of man would I be if I complained about that?" Malik asked as he increased his pace.
Ranke's answering moan reverberates through the room as Malik's rhythm quickens, her head falling back against the pillows with a gasp. Her fingers dig into his shoulders, her nails leaving faint crescents in his skin as she arches beneath him. "Gods, Malik," she breathes, her hips meeting his thrusts with increasing desperation.
The purple flecks in her irises seem to catch fire in the morning light, her golden hair spilled across the sheets like liquid sunlight. Kamira's laughter curls through the air again, rich and dark as she presses her mouth to the nape of Malik's neck. "That's it," she murmurs, her words vibrating against his skin. "Show him how much you want it, Ranke." Her hand slides further down, fingers brushing against the sensitive skin where Malik's cock meets Ranke's body, the touch sending a visible shudder through both of them.
- Later -
The hallway in one of the outer spaces of Haku's home was quiet in that way mountain mornings always were. Frost clung to the stone walls in delicate streaks, thin trails of mist curling through the cracks like the breath of the mountain itself. Lanterns glowed faintly, still lit from the night before, their foxfire cores dimming as the sun threatened to crest the peaks.
Malik rubbed the sleep from his eyes, still feeling the phantom weight of Ranke and Kamira's curves pressing into him. His lips twitched into a smile despite himself. "Between lightning and silk," he muttered, shaking his head. "That's what they're gonna put on my tombstone."
As he adjusted his cloak and headed down the corridor, he nearly collided with Fugai.
She stood there with Little Haido cradled in one arm, the wolf pup's one good eye half-lidded with sleep. The pup yawned, baring tiny teeth, before wriggling closer into the armor of Fugai's chestplate like she was just another piece of the world he owned.
"Morning," Fugai said flatly, but her eyes betrayed a softness as she looked down at Malik.
Malik tilted his head up at her, folding his hands behind his back. "So… you're really staying here, huh?"
"Yes," Fugai replied immediately, no hesitation. "Zabuza beat me. Repeatedly. Every spar. Every exchange. She crushed me like I was a trainee who'd barely learned to hold a blade. I don't like that."
She adjusted Haido in her arms, the pup squirming until his snout bumped against Malik's cheek.
Fugai's violet eyes narrowed, focused. "So I'll stay. Train. Learn. If she's better, I'll study why. If I'm weaker, I'll fix it. I don't intend to leave this mountain until I can take her down at least once."
Malik's chest tightened. His smile came slowly, edged with sadness, but warm nonetheless. He leaned closer, pressing a gentle kiss to Haido's forehead, earning a small yip from the pup. Then he looked back up at Fugai.
"You didn't lose that badly. Also, I love you," he said simply. No jokes. No flourish. Just truth.
Fugai glanced around the empty corridor, ensuring no prying eyes lingered, before leaning down. Her lips brushed his—firm, steady, nothing showy. Just enough. She pulled back and rested her forehead briefly against his, her hair tickling his curls.
"I love you too," she said, though in her own clipped style. "You annoy me less than anyone else alive. And you've kept me honest. That's love enough, isn't it?"
Malik's grin widened. "That's Fugai-love. I'll take it."
She straightened, shifting Haido to her other arm. "Good luck with Ranke and Kamira without me. I'm the tamest one, you know."
Malik chuckled, rubbing his temple. "Oh, I know. The thought of going back to just those two makes my soul want to take a sick day."
"Then you'll survive," Fugai said matter-of-factly. But her lips curved ever so slightly, almost a smile.
Malik held out a hand, palm open. "One more kiss? For the road?"
Fugai rolled her eyes but leaned down again, kissing him deeper this time. Her lips lingered longer, her free hand briefly cupping the back of his neck before she pulled away. Haido barked, as if jealous.
"Happy now?" she asked.
"Temporarily," Malik teased, though his eyes shone more seriously.
Fugai gave him a light shove on the shoulder. "Don't let them walk all over you. Kamira and Ranke get what they want because you let them. Stop indulging them all the time."
Malik raised an eyebrow. "Examples?"
Fugai snorted. "Kamira. You let her talk you into buying that ridiculous set of jeweled cooking knives you didn't need. They're too delicate. You hate them. But you smiled and paid anyway because she batted her eyes."
Malik winced. "Okay, fair."
"And Ranke," Fugai continued, "don't even get me started. She wanted that midnight spar in the pouring rain, didn't she? Most of the time, you hate watching us fight, especially in the cold and when you're tired. But you showed up because she whined about being bored."
Malik groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Alright, alright, stop reading me like an open cookbook."
Fugai's smirk was faint, but victorious. "Exactly. Stand your ground sometimes. You'll still love them. They'll still love you. But they'll respect you more when you don't bend to every whim."
Malik sighed. "Why do you always have to be the rational one?"
"Because you need at least one of us to be," she said simply.
He laughed, stepping forward to hug her tightly—careful not to squish Haido between them. She held him just as firmly, the kind of hug that wasn't dramatic but rooted, grounding.
When they finally parted, Malik exhaled slowly. "Alright, my sweet knight. I'll try not to let the storm queens break me."
"You'd better not," Fugai said, turning with Haido in her arms. "Or I'll come back down this mountain just to smack sense into you."
Malik grinned, watching her walk away. "Noted. And appreciated."
The mountain air was sharp, crisp, full of weight. But Malik's chest felt lighter.
Fugai loved him—in her own way. And that was enough to carry him forward.