The touch was light, almost reverent, but it ignited a fire in her core.
Miki exhaled, the sound long and trembling, her body arching slightly despite herself.
Reina moaned softly, turning her face aside as if to hide her flushed cheeks.
Yuri let out a low, approving hum, her eyes glinting with delight.
Aika's mouth parted, but no sound came—her breath was shallow, her composure fraying at the edges.
"I'm mapping response patterns," Kota said, his voice steady but quieter now, like he was speaking to himself as much as to them.
"Each of you is tied to different glyphs. Miki is the hub. The only way we solve this is if I touch her—accurately. All over. In sequence."
Yuri laughed, a soft, throaty sound.
"Wow, you've really leaned into this leadership thing."
He ignored her, his focus unwavering.
He moved to Miki's ribs, his hands steady but gentle, like he was handling something fragile. Each touch was deliberate, a test.
