Her secured meal

Aether followed the sound of overlapping voices and occasional bursts of laughter back toward the main beach.

What he found looked less like the aftermath of a competitive ranking match and more like a very wet, very cheerful disaster party. Dozens of women occupied the open sand and the low lounge chairs nearest the water — some still in the ruined remnants of swimsuits, most simply nude, every one of them soaked to the skin. Water dripped from hair, ran in thin rivulets between breasts, and beaded along collarbones and thighs. Nipples stood tight from the lingering chill of soakers, floodwater, and the ocean breeze, yet the overall mood was anything but defeated. Hearty, unrestrained laughter rolled through the group in waves. Dehya’s loud, rough cackle cut across everything else; Beidou’s answering guffaw rose to meet it, the two of them clearly treating the entire thrashing as the best entertainment they had had in weeks.

Aether’s eyes caught on Candace.

The guardian sat a little apart from the loudest cluster, bare to the waist, carefully working a thick white lotion across her skin. A vivid red streak ran diagonally from her right shoulder down across her chest and ended at her left hip — the unmistakable imprint of Zibai’s earlier, overwhelming strike. Candace smoothed the cream over the upper curve of one full breast, then the other, fingers moving with practical care rather than seduction, though the sight of her bare, lotion-glistening tits and the angry mark across them still pulled his attention and held it. She glanced up once, gave him a small, wry smile, and continued tending the bruise without comment.

The rest of the defeated kept the conversation moving in loose, good-natured circles: who had been eliminated by what, which plans had collapsed first, how completely the “friendly” rules had been ignored the moment the stronger pieces started moving. Every time another soaked figure trudged in from a different part of the island the group raised a ragged, welcoming cheer, made space, and demanded the newcomer’s story. Shenhe arrived to a round of sympathetic noises and immediate offers of dry towels she did not need. Xilonen skated in looking equal parts annoyed and impressed.

The easy noise cut off almost completely when Alice appeared.

She strolled into the middle of the gathering as if she had simply been out for a pleasant walk, both hands cupped carefully around something small and living. Water still darkened the seal on her chest, but her expression was pure, sunny delight. Conversations died mid-sentence. Even Dehya’s laughter trailed off. Zibai and Cloud Retainer, standing near the edge of the group, fixed the witch with identical flat stares that clearly expected an explanation for how their combined presence had still ended in her elimination.

Alice beamed at them and lifted her hands so everyone could see.

The gold-crested crab sat calmly in her palms, legs tucked, looking entirely too pleased with itself for a crustacean.

“This little gentleman,” she announced, voice bright with genuine pride,

“decided my seal needed attention. Isn’t he perfect? Look at the crest work. You’re supposed to live much farther east, you know.”

She angled the crab toward Zibai and Cloud Retainer as if presenting a prized student.“I was doing so well, too. Then this one showed up and ruined everything. I’m keeping him.”

Aether stayed on the low lounge chair at the edge of the gathering, watching the soaked, laughing aftermath settle into something almost companionable. Jean’s group drifted past in a loose, exhausted cluster — the Acting Grand Master still moving with residual knightly posture despite the visible cost of the final exchanges. He tracked them for a moment, already calculating how long the ranking speeches would take before someone actually came to claim him.

He never needed to turn.

A warm, distinctly vulpine presence arrived at his back close enough that the soft sound of controlled breathing brushed the top of his ear. Soft, decisive hands settled on his shoulders and pulled. His head was drawn backward and upward until it was fully enveloped between a pair of full, warm breasts, the scent of the Grand Narukami Shrine and expensive perfume filling his nose. The angle made looking up or around impossible; Yae Miko had claimed the position with the same casual certainty she brought to every stage she decided to occupy. Her fingers kneaded once, possessive and unhurried, while her voice floated down from above him, already carrying the low, pleased tone of a winner inspecting her prize.

(https://im.ge/i/QM4ADLa)
(artist: mrservus)

“Comfortable, little Traveler? Good. Stay there.”

While the kitsune kept him pinned in place and began a slow, exploring exploration of his shoulders and chest with her hands, Kokomi stepped forward to address the larger group. The Divine Priestess’s voice carried the same calm strategic clarity she had used to avoid every major engagement of the match.

“First place is settled. Congratulations to everyone who made it entertaining.”
A polite scatter of good-natured congratulations rose from the better sports among the defeated — Dehya’s rough shout, Beidou’s laugh, even a dry nod from Cloud Retainer. Kokomi waited for the noise to thin, then turned her attention to Yanfei.
“The ranking determines order of access. What structure was agreed for distribution?”

Yanfei consulted the notes she had somehow kept dry and answered without needing to glance at Aether for approval.

“Ten hours per team, sequential. A mandatory two-hour recovery window between each block. Eight teams total.”
She did the arithmetic aloud for clarity.
“Ninety hours of scheduled time, plus the intervening breaks.”

Aether, still unable to turn his head while Yae’s breasts framed his face and her fingers continued their proprietary path across his skin, processed the number in silence. Ninety hours. Nearly four full days of his schedule had just been allocated by women who had decided the matter among themselves, the Passion Claimer’s own opinion treated as an optional footnote at best. Yae’s soft laugh vibrated pleasantly against the back of his skull as the reality of the arrangement settled over the beach.

Yae’s fingers slid into his hair without warning and yanked his head further back.

The soft pressure of her breasts disappeared only long enough for her mouth to claim his. The kiss was deep, hungry, and thoroughly possessive — tongue pushing past his lips at once, tasting him, stroking against his own in slow, deliberate sweeps that left no doubt who was setting the pace. She took her time, exploring every corner of his mouth while the rest of the beach continued its post-match noise around them, as if the two of them occupied a private pocket of the afternoon. When she finally pulled back it was with a wet, deliberate sound, a thin string of saliva briefly connecting them before it broke.

The expression that met him was pure, open appetite.

Yae Miko looked at him the way a fox looks at something small and warm that has already been decided upon — eyes half-lidded, mouth still parted, the unmistakable promise that she intended to take her time unraveling him completely. The earlier playful amusement had thinned into something sharper and far more immediate.

“Hurry,”
she murmured, voice low enough that only he could hear it clearly. One thumb brushed the corner of his mouth, smearing the lingering wetness.
“My patience is drawing very, very thin, Passion Claimer. The ranking is settled. The clock is already running. I suggest you stop looking at the rest of them and start walking.”

She released his hair with a final, light tug and stepped back just enough to give him room, tails still carefully out of sight, but the weight of her gaze made the invitation feel far closer to a command. The first ten-hour block belonged to Team 5, and the kitsune had clearly decided the formalities had lasted long enough.