As night settled over Siesta's glowing coastline, the distant hum of the beach concert faded. Ch'en and Hoshiguma stepped away from the crowd, still buzzing from the music.
The sea breeze carried a salty tang, but the relaxed mood shifted as they approached the Siesta Solace Hotel. Howard, dressed in a plain t-shirt and black shorts, emerged from the lobby's shadows, his expression grim.
He'd just left the receptionist, who scurried back to her desk.
"Ch'en, Hoshiguma," Howard said, his voice low and urgent.
"Pack some clothes and come to my suite. We need to stick together."
Ch'en's eyes narrowed, her hand grazing her sword's hilt.
"What's going on, Howard? You've found something, haven't you?"
Hoshiguma crossed her arms.
"Yeah, what's the deal? You don't call us over like this for nothing."
Howard glanced at the hotel's entrance, where tourists laughed, unaware of the danger lurking beneath Siesta's shine.
"The killer's still here, and they're watching us," he said, his tone steady but heavy.
"For your safety, and to catch them, we can't split up. Get your things and meet me in my room. We'll go over everything there."
Ch'en gave a sharp nod, her focus snapping into place.
"Fine. Let's move."
The trio moved quickly through the hotel's marble corridors, the chatter of tourists fading behind them.
Howard's suite was their new base, and the hunt was closing in.
***
Hoshiguma's heavy knock echoed against Howard's door, the sound cutting through the hum of the Siesta Solace Hotel's distant festivities.
The door swung open, revealing Howard, still in his casual t-shirt and black shorts, his crimson eyes sharp despite the laid-back attire. He stepped aside, gesturing them in.
Ch'en, dressed in a white t-shirt with faint bleach stains and black shorts, and Hoshiguma, in her long black pants and turtleneck, stepped into the modest suite.
They settled onto the edge of Howard's bed, the springs creaking faintly under Hoshiguma's weight.
The room was sparse, save for a cluttered desk with scattered notes and a small fridge humming in the corner.
Ch'en leaned forward, her gaze fixed on Howard.
"How sure are you the killer's going to strike again?"
Howard crossed to the fridge, pulling out a can and cracking it open with a soft hiss.
"One hundred percent," he said, taking a sip, his tone flat but certain.
Ch'en's brow furrowed, her fingers tapping her knee.
"One hundred percent? That's a bold claim."
She shook her head, frustration creeping in.
"Back in Lungmen, I'd have the authority to lock this place down, question everyone, and flush the killer out. But this is Siesta. We don't have the hotel's backing, and if we force a shutdown, the killer could slip away scot-free."
Hoshiguma nodded, her arms crossed.
"Yeah, we're on their turf. No jurisdiction, no leverage. So what's got you so sure, Howard?"
Howard leaned against the desk, setting the can down.
"I've got almost nothing concrete—no clear traces, no obvious leads. But I've pieced together a theory."
He paused, his eyes flicking between them. "From what I've uncovered about the victim, if the killer strikes again tonight, the method and target will confirm what I suspect."
Ch'en's frown deepened. "That's vague, Howard. What exactly are you getting at? Give us something clear."
Howard's lips quirked faintly, but he shook his head. "You'll see soon enough. For now, trust me—it'll make sense when it happens."
He stepped behind Ch'en, rummaging through a bag on the desk and pulling out a snack pack, popping it open with a crinkle.
The faint scent of salted nuts filled the air.
He held the pack out, shifting gears.
"So, while we wait, want to talk about today? The concert, the beach… that bite you took out of me earlier?"
His tone lightened, almost teasing, but his eyes stayed sharp, gauging their reactions.
"How are you both holding up with all this?"
Ch'en and Hoshiguma exchanged a glance, the tension in the room easing slightly but not entirely, as Howard's cryptic confidence hung over them like a storm waiting to break.
Ch'en's cheeks flushed suddenly, a soft red creeping up her face. She stood abruptly, stepping onto the bed, her bare feet sinking into the mattress.
Howard, sprawled casually with the chip bag, froze as her shadow fell over him.
Her heart pounded—she'd fallen for him, deeply, undeniably. Staring down, she noticed his build more keenly: the way his t-shirt clung to subtle abs, the quiet strength of a body honed far beyond what she'd expect from a detective.
His training showed in every line, and it stirred something reckless in her.
On impulse, she lifted her foot, pressing it lightly against his abdomen—no force, just a teasing graze.
Leaning closer, her voice dropped to a whisper, raw and unguarded. "I like you, Howard."
The confession hung in the air, electric and unyielding.
Howard's eyes widened, a chip halfway to his mouth, his composure shattered.
"W-what?" He choked out, the bag crinkling as his hand froze.
Hoshiguma, still seated, blinked, her own face tinting red, caught off guard by Ch'en's sudden boldness.
Ch'en's flush deepened, but she didn't back down.
She'd ripped off the Band-Aid, her heart racing but resolute.
Her foot shifted, brushing near the chip bag, sending Howard's mind into a frenzy.
How did this happen? He thought his earlier attempt to steer the conversation with a playful jab was now backfiring spectacularly.
He'd meant to tease them about the day's events, maybe get a rise out of Hoshiguma's bite, but this—this was a wildfire he hadn't prepared for.
He fumbled, shoving the chips aside, his voice tripping over itself.
"I—uh, Ch'en, I mean—what's—?" His usual sharp wit was drowned in a sea of flustered panic.
Ch'en's lips curved, a spark of mischief in her eyes as she recalled a late-night whisper from Hoshiguma during their moment.
"You're cute when you're flustered," she said, her voice low, teasing, but laced with something deeper.
"Just like she said you'd be."
Hoshiguma's low chuckle broke the tension, her eyes gleaming as she crawled onto the bed, her movements slow and deliberate, like a predator sizing up its prey.
"Told you, Ch'en. He's got that charm when he's off his game." Her voice was warm but edged with intent as she slid closer, her body brushing against Howard's.
She leaned in, pinning his arms lightly to the bed, her breath warm against his nose.
"And you know what? I like you too," she murmured, her growl soft but undeniable, her words tingling against his skin.
Howard's mind was a storm of chaos.
I've dug my own damn grave, he thought, his heart hammering as Ch'en lowered herself, her body hovering just above his, her warmth radiating through the thin space between them.
Hoshiguma's grip on his arms was firm, her presence anchoring him from below, her breath a teasing tickle.
Their confessions collided, overwhelmingly, a double-edged blade of intensity that left him reeling.
"W-what the hell am I supposed to do with this?" He stammered, his voice a mix of exasperation and nervous laughter, his crimson eyes darting between them.
"You two can't just—drop this on me like that!"
Ch'en tilted her head, her blush still vivid but her gaze unwavering.
"You started it, Howard, with that smug teasing. Thought you could throw us off? Guess again."
Hoshiguma's grin widened, her grip tightening just enough to keep him pinned.
"Yeah, detective, you're not squirming out of this one. So, what's your move?"
Howard's panic surged, his mind grasping for control but finding none. He was trapped, caught between Ch'en's bold confession and Hoshiguma's playful intensity, their combined presence a storm he couldn't outrun.
"I—I need a second to think!" He blurted, his voice cracking, but the heat in the room only grew, the weight of their words and proximity pinning him deeper into the chaos of his own making.
Hoshiguma's low, rumbling laugh filled the room, her eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and mischief.
"You should've thought this through, Howard," she said, her voice dripping with playful menace.
"Did you really think you could tease us and walk away unscathed?"
Howard's heart pounded, his body pinned beneath Hoshiguma's weight.
Her strength held him fast, his arms useless under her grip, leaving him no room to flail or escape.
His mind was a whirlwind of panic and heat, his earlier confidence reduced to ashes.
"H-Hoshiguma, wait—" he stammered, but his words faltered as she leaned closer, her fingers hooking the hem of his t-shirt.
With a slow, deliberate tug, Hoshiguma began pulling the shirt up, exposing his toned chest inch by inch.
"You thought we were that easy to throw off, huh?" She teased, her tone both mocking and warm.
"Time to take responsibility, detective." Her lips brushed his neck, a slow, teasing lick that sent a jolt through his body, igniting every nerve.
On the other side, Ch'en had descended, her earlier boldness now a smoldering intensity.
Her breath was hot against his other ear as she mirrored Hoshiguma, her lips grazing his neck with a featherlight touch that made his skin prickle.
Howard's breath hitched, his body betraying him as the dual sensations overwhelmed his senses.
His shorts felt impossibly tight, the pressure building to an unbearable degree.
Ch'en's eyes flicked downward, catching the obvious strain. A sly smirk curved her lips.
"Looks like your 'dragon' is waking up, Howard," she teased, her voice low and taunting, her blush only amplifying the fire in her gaze.
Howard was sweating now, his face flushed, his mind teetering on the edge of sanity.
Hoshiguma's slow, deliberate licks against his neck were relentless, each one stoking the fire in his veins.
He could barely think, his body caught in a storm of stimulation.
"G-guys, I—I can't—" He gasped, his voice ragged and desperate.
Ch'en leaned closer, her lips brushing his ear, her whisper a velvet blade.
"Do you want this, Howard?" Her words were soft but searing, a challenge and a promise wrapped together.
His chest heaved, his rationality crumbling under the weight of their combined presence.
"Yes," he managed, the word escaping in a breathless rush, his resistance shattered.
His crimson eyes were glassy, almost unfocused, as if he'd been utterly defeated by the intensity of the moment.
Ch'en's smirk deepened, a spark of triumph in her eyes. "Good," she murmured, leaning in for a deep, lingering kiss.
Her lips pressed against his with a fierce tenderness, claiming the moment. She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, her breath warm against his skin.
Hoshiguma, not to be outdone, released one of his arms to tilt his chin toward her.
Her kiss was slower, deeper, a growl vibrating in her throat as she pressed herself closer. "You're ours tonight," she said, her voice a low rumble, her eyes locking with his.
Ch'en nodded, her hand resting lightly on his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart.
"Tonight, Howard," she echoed, her voice soft but unyielding, "you belong to us."
***
Howard's mind was a haze, his body trapped in the electric pull between them. He was theirs, caught in a storm of their making, and there was no escaping the night ahead.
Hours had bled into the early morning, the quiet of the Siesta Solace Hotel a stark contrast to the storm that had consumed Howard's suite.
In the bathroom, he hunched over the sink, splashing cold water across his face, the icy bite pulling him back from the haze of the night.
His reflection stared back, a map of bite marks etched across his neck, shoulders, and chest—vivid, almost possessive imprints left by Ch'en and Hoshiguma.
How did I end up here? he thought, a mix of disbelief and wry amusement flickering in his mind.
He'd always rolled his eyes at the protagonists in those novels, dismissing them as spineless for buckling under passion.
Weaklings, he'd scoffed, unable to imagine himself in their shoes. Now, marked and aching, he got it.
The intensity of Ch'en's fire and Hoshiguma's relentless strength had unraveled him, stripping away his control in a way he hadn't anticipated.
Losing his virginity like this—caught in a whirlwind between two women who were as fierce in bed as they were in battle—was a story he'd never have believed if he weren't living it.
He dried his face, his fingers lingering on a particularly deep mark near his collarbone.
They're monsters, he thought, a shiver of awe and lingering heat running through him.
And I kept up… barely. If not for his talent and ability, he might've been left in pieces.
Even now, his muscles ached, his pulse still unsteady from the memory of their hands, their lips, their unrelenting stamina.
I satisfied them, he reminded himself, a flicker of pride cutting through the exhaustion.
But damn, they pushed me to the edge.
Stepping back into the room, he paused, his breath catching.
Ch'en and Hoshiguma lay sprawled across the bed, their naked forms partially draped in tangled sheets, their breathing slow and deep.
The sight stirred something primal in him, a mix of desire and disbelief.
They're unreal, he thought, his eyes tracing the curve of Ch'en's shoulder, the strength in Hoshiguma's frame.
And they chose me. The weight of their earlier confessions—Ch'en's whispered "I like you" and Hoshiguma's growled admission—still hung heavy, a complication he hadn't planned for.
What the hell do I do with that?
His mind spun, torn between the thrill of their affection and the chaos it promised.
But duty snapped him back.
The murderer was still out there, a shadow lurking in Siesta's polished corridors.
His earlier theory burned brighter now, a puzzle demanding to be solved.
He'd taken a risk before the night's chaos, using his ability in a way he rarely dared.
Spreading his blood in tiny, nearly invisible beads across the hotel's key areas—each one a living sensor, letting him see and feel through them—had been a desperate move.
If this doesn't work, I've got nothing, he admitted to himself, the stakes pressing against his chest.
But it was his best shot to catch a killer who thrived in Siesta's blind spots.
He pulled on his t-shirt and shorts, moving quietly to avoid waking the women.
Then it hit—a sharp pulse from one of his beads, a silent alarm from the fourth floor.
There you are, he thought, his heart kicking into overdrive, adrenaline flooding his veins.
Howard grabbed his room key, his mind racing. No time to wake them. I can't lose this chance.
He slipped out, his bare feet silent against the carpeted hall, the distant hum of Siesta's nightlife fading behind him.
Fourth floor. You're not slipping away this time.
He descended the stairs, his senses tethered to the bead's faint signal, every step fueled by the certainty that he was closing in.
Time was running out, and he wouldn't let the killer vanish into Siesta's glittering shadows.