The morning after Reina's night of vulnerability didn't feel like an ordinary morning to Renji.
It wasn't the silence of loneliness or the quiet before another storm. No, this silence carried the taste of momentum, of progress. It was the stillness of a blade being sharpened on a whetstone, every pass making him deadlier.
Renji stretched lazily on his futon, body still humming from the memory of Reina's warmth pressed against him, the sound of her voice gasping his name in the darkness. His lips curved at the thought. For her, the school nurse, mature, gentle, but locked in chains of shame, to open up the way she had, to moan freely under him… that was more than sex. That was victory.
Not the kind of victory that ended, but one that stacked. It was fuel.
