The residue of violence clung to us, a heavy, unseen weight. We tumbled into sleep the instant the inn's rough beds met our weary bodies.
Dawn, a whisper of grey, nudged me awake at five. Raphtalia and Rifana stirred like small, frightened birds as I roused them. Before sleep claimed me, I'd tasked Alna with a subtle deception: to veil our true power, to keep the girls from the stark reality of what we were.
I offered them simple fare, then guided their small hands in the delicate art of knife work. Raphtalia's presence shifted the balance; Alna's role was nearing its end.
Returning to the room, Alna remained lost in slumber, her features softened by sleep, yet bearing the faint etchings of yesterday's grim work.
"Mr. Naofumi," Rifana's voice, small and tremulous, broke the quiet stillness, "why did you save us?"
The question, repeated for the third time, hung in the air, a delicate, almost fragile thing. It was a question that demanded an answer I found difficult to articulate, a truth shrouded in complex motivations.
"Let me ponder a moment..." I began, a deliberate pause for dramatic effect.
"Perhaps... because I am the Shield Hero."
"Really?"
"Really?" Their voices, small and hopeful, blended into a delicate echo.
"Indeed," I confirmed, raising my arm, the shield a dull gleam against the morning light. "Surely, this makes it evident?"
"But why us?" Rifana pressed, her youthful brow furrowed with a wisdom beyond her years. "Why would the Shield Hero rescue us?"
"Reasons," I replied, a hint of mystery in my tone, "a tapestry woven of circumstance and... other things."
"And why does Miss Alna sleep so deeply?" Raphtalia asked, her gaze drifting towards the still form on the bed.
"She exerted herself greatly yesterday," I explained, "a weariness that claims even the strongest. Now, how about a little adventure?" I offered them a handful of silver coins, a tempting proposition.
"We require no payment," Rifana stated, her voice imbued with a quiet dignity.
"Ah, but this is not payment," I countered, a playful twinkle in my eye. "This is a mission of critical importance. I require a detailed culinary survey of the marketplace. You are to sample every edible delight and report back with your findings. Which treat reigns supreme?"
"If you believe us so easily deceived," Rifana said, her expression a mix of amusement and shrewdness, "you underestimate us."
Smart children are also quite a pain.
"Can't manage a simple errand?" I asked, a hint of real disappointment creeping into my voice. "If this is too much, I'll find someone else."
"We can do it," Raphtalia said, her voice small but firm.
"It's easier said than done," I replied, a touch of skepticism in my tone.
"We'll do it," Rifana confirmed, her expression determined.
I handed them the coins. "If anyone bothers you, tell them you're with me, the Shield Hero."
"Okay," they said, and headed out.
Turning to Alna, who was still asleep, I sighed. "When are you planning on getting up?"
"What time is it?" she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.
"It's afternoon," I said.
"Just a little longer," she replied, and went back to sleep.
"Come on, get up," I said, a little more forcefully. "You're being lazy."
"I'll get up in an hour if you'll sleep with me," she said, opening her eyes and looking at me.
"Stop acting like a kid," I said, a little exasperated.
"I'm not acting like a kid," she replied, sitting up and looking at me seriously. "You promised me a kiss, and you didn't give it to me. That's not right. What kind of man breaks a promise like that? You need to show me you're a man of your word."
"That's enough," I said, my voice sharp, a desperate attempt to regain control. "We have things to do."
"I won't be silenced," she retorted, her eyes flashing with a playful defiance. "Fine. If you refuse to honor your promise, I'll simply collect my due." In a swift, fluid motion, she launched herself at me, her arms wrapping around my torso in a tight embrace.
"Wait!" I exclaimed, a surge of panic rising within me.
But she didn't relent. The sensation was disorienting, a bizarre role reversal. I felt like a trapped maiden, and she, a brazen rogue, attempting to steal a forbidden prize. "F-fine," I stammered, my cheeks burning, "I'll kiss you."
"No need," she purred, her lips already pressing against mine, a soft, insistent pressure that belied her playful demeanor.
Her hand moved, her fingers intertwining with mine, guiding my hand downwards, towards the silken fabric of her pants. A jolt of surprise, then alarm, shot through me.
"You're going too far!" I protested, my voice a strained whisper.
"Just five minutes," she whispered back, her voice laced with a seductive promise. "Five minutes of pleasure, and I'll be your obedient servant, bound to your every whim."
"Huh?" I stammered, my mind reeling. "Okay... but how?"
"Use your middle finger," she instructed, her voice a low, husky murmur, "inside my pussy."
Hesitantly, my fingers explored the warm, yielding flesh beneath the fabric. It took a moment, a disorienting search, before I was guided to the slick, inviting entrance. The realization that I, the Shield Hero, had become so utterly submissive to a sixteen-year-old girl was a surreal, almost comical, twist of fate.
"Move it," she instructed, her voice laced with a soft moan. "Forward and backward."
She guided my hand, demonstrating the rhythm, her body undulating against mine.
Soft moans escaped her lips, a symphony of burgeoning pleasure, as my finger slid in and out, the tight, slick walls of her entrance swallowing my finger whole.
"Alright," she breathed, her voice thick with anticipation, "now it's time for the dick."
"No way!" I exclaimed, my voice a mixture of shock and disbelief.