The wind blowing from an air vent and onto her face was what woke her up.
Maki's eyes sprung open, a gasp leaving her lips as she found herself in what she figured was a hospital bed. There was no IV drip next to her, so she wasn't dying, and a small sigh of relief made its way up her throat until she pushed it down with a firm swallow.
On the other side of the room that she found herself in, a door was cracked open, leaving room for her to eavesdrop on the small conversation going on beyond the door. Her arm urged to get up, so her muscles pulled her up out of her bed until she nearly toppled over, catching herself with her palms flat on the cold floor. That's when she noticed them.
The scars on her arms that led all the way up to her sleeves—she could tell they didn't stop there. She couldn't feel them but she knew they were all over her face. Whoever took care of her (Shoko, she blindly guesses) must've known the damage it would do if Maki saw her own reflection, as the mirror was covered up on the wall adjacent to her.
Her heart sank. Even feeling her fingers run over the bumps and scars on her arms reminded of how she got them. And then her insides boiled with anger for who was responsible. She should be mad at that volcano shaped cursed spirit, and she is. Her own fists clenched at the thought of it. But she could've been saved, despite how weak that makes her look. You could've saved her, if you'd just grown a pear and dragged her away from that spirit, she wouldn't be in this damned room with these godforsaken scars. She would be with you, where she belonged.
And yet, as her heart still aches and her innards still burn with rage, it does nothing to alleviate the shallowness inside her. The emptiness. The festering yearning in her core as it calls out for you—you, despite being the source of one of her greatest pains. You, despite leaving her for dead on that floor. You, despite having lied to her and ripped her heart out.
Maki swallowed again, moisturizing her throat as she picks herself up again. Momentarily she'd forgotten how to walk. Though her legs carried her anyways and soon enough she was reaching for the door handle, hoping and praying to every god that might be up there that she'd find you right outside.
Her hopes were crushed once again when she only found Shoko and another woman conversing briefly with one another. Shoko was leaning against a wall, a cigarette lingering in one hand and a coffee mug in her other. Steam emanated from the brown liquid, indicating that it'd been made not too long ago.
The woman, who was sitting on one of the couches in the middle of the room—Yuki—turned her head to find Maki walking in. Yuki's eyes lifted when she found Maki shuffling her way into the room. She cocked her head, motioning for her to hurry up.
"I saw you on the floor while I was in Shibuya," Yuki calls out to Maki, who was still standing there. A frown had been painted on her scarred face since the moment she'd woken up just a few minutes ago, and her lips pursed into a line.
"It's a miracle you're alive," Yuki continues despite the silence in return. "What's your name?"
"Yuki, don't pry. She's probably just woken up," Shoko interrupted, taking a slow sip from her coffee. Her other hand—the one with the cigarette lingering between her fingers— held the mug so she wouldn't drop it with her slightly shaky hands.
"Maki," she answers bluntly, not paying any mind to the look that Shoko spares her for a moment. Yuki, who'd been facing Shoko when she interrupted her, turned her head to now face Maki once again as her lips parted slightly.
"Ah," she nodded her head briefly. Maki knew she was hiding something—as if Yuki had known everything about her already just from hearing her name. And then Maki wondered back to the time that you were gone. She connected the dots—the familiarity in Yuki's tone, the nod to her head, and the wild guess that she'd made—her eyebrows furrow when she comes to a conclusion.
Yuki senses that Maki had already figured it out, and she falls silent again, turning away from Maki and crossing her legs in her spot on the couch. The room is thickly silent for a solid moment, the atmosphere getting more opaque with each second that passes as the three women stay in their spots.
Maki glanced at the table which adjacent from where Shoko was standing, and saw her shattered phone laying on the face of it. She cringed on the inside, but reached over for it with her scarred hand and grabbed it. Her screen lit up—the cracks looked like spiderwebs had been forming on it. She could barely make out the time at the top of her screen before she squinted her eye—her other eye had been bandaged, she realized when she couldn't squint the other one.
Her lock screen was a picture she'd taken from earlier in the year—her birthday, to be exact. It was the day she'd gotten her bangs done again, and she'd taken you with her. To see your face on her screen, your cheeks pressed together, your eyes locked on her instead of the lens. Maki turned her phone off to be met with a black screen, and her scarred reflection staring right back at her as a reminder of her pain.
She let out a soft, almost inaudible, shaky breath before turning it back on and unlocking it. Her fingers swiftly glided across her screen as she opened her messages and tapped Yuta's contact. She paused, thinking for a moment of what to say as she stared at the most recent text he'd sent. They'll come around. I know they will. If only she could slap him in the face for saying that—she'd even go as far as believing he jinxed it. But she knows she can't blame him. It isn't Yuta's fault she's in her own company now. Not Shoko or Yuki's—despite the other two being in a proximity with her— no one may shoulder the responsibility nobody will mention but Maki herself.
She eventually began typing on autopilot—the time she'd spent staring at her screen was a little too long for her liking. Shoko momentarily glanced up from her coffee mug as she heard the bubbly tapping effects as Maki's thumbs quickly moved in a flash. Shoko remembered how bizarre you thought it was the first time you heard it when you were in Shoko's office. She'd been sitting in her office chair and making a tweet when you walked in—your face was immediately puzzled when you heard the sound. She'd nearly forgotten you never had a phone before last year before you asked her what that noise was. Now she quietly chuckles bitterly at the memory, no trace of humor in her voice as she sips her coffee.
There was nothing to talk about. Or if there was the conversation would somehow find its way to be about you. Neither of them were willing to compromise the silence for the possibility of that topic. Although you were a serious topic—supposedly running around Shibuya killing whoever you pleased and leaving a blood trail on the streets— the silence was too comfortable to disturb.
Shoko felt herself growing uneasy with the atmosphere getting thicker to the point she could cut it with a butter knife or a scalpel. She lightly pushed herself off the wall, swiftly stepping over to the coffee table on the other side of the room. She grabbed a cup from the small stack on one half of the table, then started the coffee machine.
The quiet whirring of the machine vibrated in the room, making the air all the more opaque as Shoko stood there, looming over the table. Yuki spared her a glance, her leg lightly bouncing over her thigh before she looked back down. She sighed quietly, briefly shaking her head free of the pressure of her surroundings.
Shoko grabbed the cup from underneath the coffee machine with nimble fingers, her other hand reaching for a sleeve and a top, holding both of them in her hand. She closed the cup first, trapping the steam in with the top before sliding it through the light brown sleeve. Shoko carefully held it as she turned away from the table and strolled towards Maki, handing her the cup.
"Coffee?" Shoko suggested, though not really giving her a second to answer as the cup was pushed closer to Maki's chest.
Maki wasn't too fond of the taste of coffee, especially without cream and sugar, but still she took the cup from Shoko's hand, mumbling a nearly inaudible 'thank you' and holding it with both hands. She softly blew the cup through the tiny slit at the top before taking a sip, the liquid's taste burning her throat. Maki pulled the cup away from her lips, clearing her throat after swallowing the coffee and wiping her mouth with her thumb. She thought back to when you first tried coffee—how it had you coughing up a lung and groaning at the taste even after cream and sugar had been added (more like just sugar and one drop of cream). Her muscles tugged under her skin and a smile was forming at the memory for a split second before she hid it with another sip of her coffee, grimacing at the taste.
The air stood still as Maki thought she was finally at a moment of peace, her heart steadying instead of sinking like it had been for the time you'd been gone.
"You guys are depressing as hell," Yuki cut the silence with her voice and a dry chuckle, getting up from her spot on the couch. Neither of them spared a glance as Yuki began to saunter out of the room, stopping at the steps and turning away from them for a moment.
"Tsukumo," Shoko called out, earning a flicker of Yuki's gaze flashing over to her. "Don't go looking for anyone out there." She glares at Yuki. "You know who I'm talking about."
"Yeah, yeah. I won't, they wouldn't want me to anyways," Yuki rolls her eyes before turning on her heel and going back to leaving for the door, marching up the stairs and flinging the door open, letting in a small gust of wind.
———
Cold air blew through Yuta's hair as he stood in the middle of the streets, his katana in his hand as he glances down at his phone in his left hand. His screen showed the most recent update on your location (which was last updated an hour ago, so he didn't have much hope with that source). Somewhere in an alleyway just a few blocks down, he began trudging and swiftly sheathing his katana back into its case and letting his phone fall into his pocket.
His mind raced with ideas. What if you were still violent? What if you'd already left the city? Does he really have the heart to fight you? He couldn't fathom the idea that he was sitting in the same room with you just a year ago, trusting you and being your friend. He shook the thought away from his head, the sight in his minds eye fading away like someone waved their hand through a cloud of smoke.
He turned a corner which would lead straight to that alleyway just down the street to be met with empty bags tossing in the wind and the moonlight shining down on the road. The scene was quite melodramatic—it was dead silent, save for the songs of the wind that was whispering in his ear and all the same blowing his hair. It seemed like a perfect opportunity for you to jump out and ambush him—though there wasn't many hiding spots after getting a good look at it. All the shops were closed down and surprisingly none of the windows had any signs of damage. His mind couldn't conclude if it was even more suspicious or not.
No—if you were smart then you would leave as little a trace of your presence as possible when you're on the run. Smashing windows and kicking down doors isn't very discreet. Entering buildings the normal way would be smarter, he concluded, and started checking every building for any signs that you'd visited.
As he assumed, he found none. Not even one speck of residue from your cursed presence. Yuta sighed softly before he began walking out of the last building and unzipped his pocket. His pale hand pulled out his phone and checked for any missed messages before unlocking it and texting Maki, a melancholic look on his face.
Yuta
No luck so far (just now)
He then checked for any updates on your location— he saw one and concluded that a brave window saw you and had updated it— last updated: 2 min go. His eyes perked wider and his heart sped with anticipation of finally reaching you. His thumbs zoomed in to pinpoint it, then let his phone drop into his pocket and zipped it up with his thumbs.
———
The shade of blood had become familiar in your mind by the end of the day—at the last hour before the minute hand struck midnight. Its devilishly red pigment staining the ground seemed to paint a picture of yourself with everyone you killed. Life after life, each beating heart you stopped in hopes to restart yours, ending lives in an attempt to fix your own. The blood had painted an awful picture of you—even though it looked exactly like you. A walking bloodstain.
The weight of your sword felt much too heavy for your fingers to keep tightening around. You thought that if you'd reinforced your grip anymore then surely your fingers would sink into the flesh of your own palm, so you let it fall. A small clang resonated in the air but with no resulting echo. You were almost out of cursed energy, and your legs were shaking from pushing yourself tonight.
Your lungs and heart were perfectly normal, but your breathing was quick and shallow. A burning ached in your stomach when you realized you hadn't eaten a thing all day, you'd been burning physical energy you didn't have on fighting and killing. You squinted your eyes as they flickered around your area, searching for any signs of a store or restaurant that wasn't blasted to hell from tonight.
You shuffled your way through Shibuya, your steps more frequent, though you weren't moving any faster than the echoes your footsteps gave away. Your eyes darted around for any sight of food or even water, and your eyes widened when you saw a door just casually flung open. The glass on it wasn't shattered, indicating that it was still in one piece.
You sped up your shuffling, stepping closer to the door and gripping the side of it. You pulled yourself around the opened door and hurried in, immediately reaching for the open water left on the counter. The top portion of the water missing didn't matter much to you when you were dehydrated and exhausted. The feeling of the cool liquid splashing onto your tongue and moisturizing your throat was almost foreign, filling your body with more life with each loud swallow.
You abandoned the bottle once it was empty after only a moment had passed, then you quickly passed through the aisles and started ripping open the first things you saw. You were ravaging it all like a lion that had been starved for a thousand years, the sounds of bags rustling and falling onto the floor.
The door opened again, the bell ringing and indicating that someone walked in and it wasn't just the wind. You paused, your skin prickling as goosebumps appeared over your arms; the presence that had just entered was strong, not as much as your own, but it was overwhelming nonetheless.
"I know you're here," that voice echoed through the store as you quietly tiptoed to the bathroom. Yuta stepped through each aisle and checked the refrigerated section. His eyes narrowed when he watched the women's bathroom door slowly swing shut. He lightened his footsteps, slowly stepping over to the bathroom and waiting outside the door.
His back was against the wall, his head turned to the door. A bead of sweat slowly made its way down his burning neck, his arm extending so he could slowly push the door open.
He quickly stepped out and kicked it open out of impatience, unsheathing his katana and holding it in front of him as he stepped in. The lights were off, probably from the power outage in the city, leaving him blind. The room was silent, save for the hitch of his shaking breath and his footsteps. Yuta swallowed, moving his hand around so he could try and push open a stall.
His body let out a tiny sigh of relief as he saw that you weren't in the first one. He slowly moved to the next one, pushing it open and listening to the creak of the door. The suspense in his chest was growing with the echoing whine of the door as he moved on to other one.
He pushed open the third one, the second to last one. Sweat dribbled down his forehead and drenched his face. The atmosphere was seeming to get thicker with each passing second that he was in this damn bathroom. His heart dropped when the third stall was empty, meaning you were in the last one.
Before he could push the door open, you already jumped out and threw a punch to his cheek, knocking him back. You sped past Yuta, dashing past the door and weaving through the aisles of the store. Yuta rubbed his jaw while stumbling out of the bathroom and chasing after you.
You were already out of the store and running down the street by the time he'd reached the front door. Your legs felt like jelly and your forehead was glistening with sweat, but the wind blowing against your skin felt nice. It was like a reliever from being chased down.
Yuta dashed out of the store and sped up in your direction. Rika suddenly appeared behind you and grabbed you with her hands, holding you back and turning you so you could face Yuta. He flipped his katana around and immediately pushed it into your hip, stabbing right through the bone. Your eyes widened as a shout rippled from your throat, beads of sweat sliding down the side of your face and your throat.
"You're coming with me," he spat, getting in your face and putting on an irritated expression. "Consider yourself lucky I don't have Rika snap you in half."
"You wouldn't," you narrow your eyes in disbelief. "That rat would do anything you say as long as you really meant it. D'you really wanna kill an old friend?"
"We're not friends," Yuta countered despite the slow sinking of his heart in his chest; this wasn't necessarily the way this was supposed to go. "Not after what you did."
"Old friend, Yuta, use your ears," you frown, wincing when his blade digs deeper into your hip bone.
"Look at you, big and bad Y/n running around Shibuya all night killing people, stuck on my sword like a marshmallow on a stick. What happened to the confidence you had to take lives earlier, huh?"
You felt a seething anger boil up in your insides when Yuta belittles you, your teeth grinding together and your jaw clenching tightly. Your hand flies up to the handle of his katana and attempting to pull it out of your bone. An almost-paralyzing pain shocks your whole body, another shout escaping your throat and echoing throughout the block. Your hand falls off before Yuta could pry it off, your entire body almost falling limp and passing out from the pain.
"You're coming with me," Yuta repeats, this time more hostile as his voice is laced with a venom that makes your (at the moment) frail heart drop. Yuta got a little closer to your face until your noses were only an inch away.
"Don't struggle," he muttered softly. "I already used reverse cursed technique on your hip, so just stay still."
Yuta gripped his handle tighter to keep a steady hold on his katana, slowly pulling it out of your hipbone. A sticky, almost wet sound resonated from your body as his blade was coming out, your body practically vibrating in Rika's iron grip. You winced and hissed and sighed and whined even after the blade was out. Yuta glanced down at it and cringed at the blood on it, glistening in the moonlight shining down on you both.
"Rika-chan, please keep a hold on Y/n for me," Yuta's mood did a complete 180 as he flashed the shinigami a warm, charming smile that had your stomach turning inside out. Your face shifted in disgust before you felt your feet being lifted off the ground. You looked around and noticed that you both were floating now, and Yuta was walking a steady pace ahead of you her, wiping his katana off on his sleeve and pushing it back into its case.
———
The air was getting thick, colder as the night was moving on.
October had officially ended, says the time on Naoya's watch around his wrist. 12:04 AM. He'd been staying out late in light of the Shibuya incident and how Naobito was assessing someone—he never found out who it was but he does know that Naobito hasn't come back to the Zenin estate.
His face wore a stern expression—his eyebrows furrowed, in their default state, his lips pursed into a frown and his eyes narrowed. He looked like someone squeezed lemon juice in his eyes. Naoya let his arm drop after getting a good look at the time, the cool November breeze blowing in his hair. He turned his body around and his feet trudged against the ground as he walked towards a sidewalk that led to the subway underneath it.
He stopped when he found two other people on the low ground—Yuji, and another guy Naoya didn't recognize. He looked around once again, searching for Megumi and frowning when he didn't see any sign of him.
"What are you two doing? You totally stand out. Don't you wanna run?" Naoya inquired.
"Run?" Yuji looked up in the direction he heard Naoya's voice come from.
"Don't you know? Your execution is back on since Satoru's support is gone."
Yuji looked back at the other guy, whom Naoya still couldn't find any recollection of but heard Yuji calling him something along the lines of 'Choso'.
"My business is with Megumi...and another brat, so I don't really care if you live or die." Naoya jumped down from his spot and landed within a distance of Yuji and Choso. "But I also can't have you prancing around, so I might as well start by breaking your legs."
"What do you want with Fushiguro?" Yuji frowned, gritting his teeth. "And...who's the other one?"
"I think it'd be best if I had Megumi die," Naoya grinned cheekily. "And the other brat is an acquaintance of mine. They're also wanted so I'm on the hunt for them, too."
Naoya threw a punch to Yuji first, knocking him back before turning to Choso. He jabbed Choso's arm with his elbow and pulled him closer to bash foreheads with him. Choso stumbled back a few steps before him and Yuji both went to jump Naoya.
He sighed quietly before leaping up and away to avoid their punches, landing on the other side of the ground. Naoya gently scratched his head with disdain written on his face. Unfortunately he was expecting the same talent he'd seen from you considering you and Yuji both went to the same school, although he wasn't exactly disappointed with Yuji's speed.
"You're tougher than I thought. Honestly I didn't expect all that much," Naoya averted his gaze between Yuji and Choso. "Should I try upping my speed—"
A shiver went up everyone's spines, making them stand up straight and fix their posture. Naoya felt a bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck, his skin feeling like he's being roasted over a fire. His heart dropped momentarily as his head whipped around to find the source of the stress creeping up his spine.
He found a building which Yuta was standing at the top of, Rika behind him holding you in her grasp, unconscious. Naoya grit his teeth upon seeing you out cold and held captive by some guy (whom he assumed was a complete stranger to you). Yuta was clutching the handle of his katana's case, preparing to take it out as he glanced at each of the men down there.
"Wonderful. You're not alone," Yuta muttered, swiftly taking his katana out from his case and held it out. He quickly leaped down from the building, making a harsh fall and landing on the ground and crumbling some of the wall that was leaving Naoya, Yuji and Choso on the low ground.
"Who's with Itadori, hm?"
"So you're Yuji's executioner," Choso frowned defensively.
Naoya looked around between Yuta and Choso, then at Rika as she floated down. His jaw clenches as he got a closer look at You lying asleep in her abnormally large hands, her grip seemingly iron tight around you. His fists clenched tightly before he raised his hands defensively, pulling everyone's attention to him.
"Wait a second!"
Yuta glanced at Naoya indifferently, his face slightly shifting to one of disinterest, his eyebrow lifting slowly.
"I'm on your side," Naoya countered. "You're Okkotsu, right?"
"Who are you?" Yuta inquired, his face lifting into a grimace.
"Naoya Zenin, Maki's cousin. I'm also here to kill Itadori," Naoya glanced at you once again, then back at Yuta. This didn't go unnoticed by him, as Yuta's own gaze flickered to your unconscious body.
"Don't worry. I won't interfere. However...if you do end up killing Yuji, would you refrain from informing your superiors for a little while? He's bait for somebody I need to meet."
"Zenin..." Yuta muttered, glancing back at you once again and keeping his eye on you this time. "Did you know Y/n here?"
Naoya frowned. "And if I did?"
Yuta popped a knuckle, swallowing quietly. He watched you stir in your sleep and he got the feeling you were about to wake up. He saw your eyes flickering and twitching from all the commotion, and he turned back to Naoya to face him.
"Very well. Rika-chan, please keep Y/n somewhere safe for me."
Rika floated away and lifted you somewhere you wouldn't be affected by the fight, setting you down on the ground as your eyes began fluttering open.
Your hip was still aching from Yuta stabbing right through it, the bone throbbing terribly and making you groan quietly. You sat up as soon as Rika began floating away, watching the shinigami levitating and flying off to join Yuta. You blinked in disbelief for half a second before scratching the side of your head with your hand.
You sighed loudly and fell back against the ground, hitting your head and feeling a throb resonating in the back of your skull. You looked up at the sky, watching the stars freeze in the dark dome above the horizon. It was the only peaceful thing you've seen all night, a pause from all the fighting and chaos and drama and death and destruction. Your chest rose and fell, a smile almost etched itself onto your face until it was interrupted by a yawn.
You heard crashes and shouts of sorts, and your head instinctively turned in its direction. You couldn't get up and join whatever fight may be going on, you're much too weak for it at the moment. Your hip is still sore, as well as your cursed energy being literal fumes. A particularly loud crash got your attention, making you turn your head again to find Rika floating back up and grabbing you off the ground.
Your feet dangled in the air as you flew down to the inside of the subway, blood covered the walls and stained the floor. The tint of red got darker and more opaque the further you got in the subway, and soon Rika carried you in her large hand and found Yuta dragging Yuji by his shirt.
"Thank you, Rika-chan," Yuta flashed her another warm smile that made your stomach coil in on itself in disgust; a part of you wanted to throw up. Yuta looked back at you as his smile dropped. "Are you gonna behave now?"
"You wish I would." You countered with a glare. Rika's hand tightened around your body, squeezing your ribs and making you twist and turn in her grip. "Ok, fine!"
"You're coming with me and Yuji back to Jujutsu Tech now. It'll be a while since Yuji's out cold, so just behave yourself for a while until we get back. And, there's someone who wants to see you, so don't be an ass."
"Who?" You lift a brow, your glare sharpening as Yuta stayed quiet after that.
"Hey! I'm not promising anything until I know who wants to see me!"
"You'll find out when you get there. It might even help you with your sour mood," Yuta frowned as he lifted Yuji over his shoulder, walking off in a direction you assumed was facing Jujutsu Tech.
———
It felt like forever ago since Maki had last gotten any news from Yuta.
Her anxiety was rising just from the radio silence. Shoko could sense her tension from across the room even when she'd returned with a uniform she'd scrounged up and brought back to Maki. She was sure this one suited her; a black sleeveless turtleneck with some flappy cape and high waisted pants. She even flapped the cape around for a moment before settling down and acting mature again, sitting with her legs crossed on the couch in that little bunker until Yuki showed up again.
Maki was no doubt insecure on the inside about her scars. She wouldn't know what you'd think when you see her again—would you be surprised?—surely not, you'd watched that curse run up to her and left her to burn to a crisp. Surely you wouldn't judge her—you never judged her for anything (but that was while she was still pretty, would that change?). Those scars went from her hips and all the way up to the top of her face, permanently damaging her skin (as well as her right eye) and making her unable to be stared at (in a positive light, at least—not that she'd enjoyed being stared at in the first place). She would never show her insecurity directly—though Shoko could see it, in the way she draped her cape over her arms to cover them and looked down at her lap as to not let Shoko see the burn marks.
Maki sat in the comfortable silence until the door kicked open.
"Good news, fellow ladies," Yuki chirped as she marched down the stairs and stood proudly in the middle of the room. Maki and Shoko both looked up at her with long faces that signaled Yuki to go on with her statement.
"I'm positive Okkotsu has a hold on both Itadori Yuji and Hatake Y/n!! I'm not sure if they're alive, though..."
"I know one of them is alive," Maki grumbled under her breath, crossing her arms and looking away. Shoko glanced at Maki with a hint of empathy in her gaze, watching her face change as Maki's jaw clenched. "I'd kill him if one of them died by his hand."
"It doesn't take a genius to guess who. They should be here soon, and we're about to check out Tengen's barrier, so let's head out."
"I'm staying here," Shoko shook her head. "I've no business with Hatake anymore."
"Understandable. Maki?" Yuki glanced at Maki with a slight grin. Maki sighed and got up from her spot on the couch, her heart pounding in her chest. Adrenaline was racing through her veins and for a moment she felt like she was back against that tree again—that same damn tree she where she watched you take breaks from training, fidget with that damn rubix cube, write whatever it was you were fixated on in your notebook.
"I'll go," she muttered. Despite her cold and quiet demeanor, her heart was pounding on the inside. Not with nerves or bashfulness or anything that could be seen as a romantic look on her. But with anger. And a bit of sadness but she decided not to dwell on that. The anger eating away at her heart was what was making her hands shake, as if they were ready to beat you to death the moment you were in her line of vision.
Yuki nodded briefly before turning around and marching back up the stairs, holding the door open for Maki as the both of them walked out.
The air wasn't as cold as Maki expected it to be. She didn't expect her breath to be seen every time she exhaled, but she didn't expect humidity, either. She felt a stickiness begin clinging to her skin the further out her and Yuki trudged to find the entrance to Tengen's barrier, marching through the greenery that surrounded Jujutsu Tech.
It seemed Yuta was taking forever with bringing you back to Jujutsu Tech, time was dragging on in exaggerated minutes like it was tugging a bolder with it. The hour felt like an eternity, making Maki feel like she was getting years older with each step she took. She was tired enough and stressed enough to feel older. The bags under her eyes were probably masked by the burn marks—those damned things, cursing her for the rest of her days to be seen as something unworthy of a man's attention—or even worse, your attention.
She didn't let that get to her, as her thoughts had been distracted by Yuki announcing that they were finally reaching Tengen's barrier. They'd stopped just before breaching it, waiting for that door to kick open and a very battered you marching down those steps—no, not marching; it's uncharacteristic; trudging? Limping would be better. It would give Maki the satisfaction of seeing you look at least a fraction of how she feels. Beat up and wounded by another's hand other than her own made her seethe, but her knuckles breaking skin and breaking a jaw that was your own felt like a punch to the gut—if it was as bad as her own thoughts made her believe. To pull her arm back in preparation to attack and cause an aching in your bones, to strike a sword to your skin and make a gash which blood and pain would seep through the gap of your flesh. To get a look at what was going on inside—literally and figuratively—seeing the outline of your body in such a hollow shell, seeing the blood drip down and surrounding you in a circle of a tainted red. That was what she wanted—if it was a fraction of how bad her thoughts made her believe.
"They should be here soon," Yuki remarks, looking up at the doors and furrowing a brow. "They're taking an unusual amount of time. Unless Okkotsu doesn't know where he's going...?"
The two doors up top were pulled open, a handful of people walking down the steps quietly. Maki turned to look at the door with an uninterested look and low hopes when she first saw Yuji walk in. Her distaste for the boy wasn't with her worst wishes—there's no real reason to hate him.
"Long time no see...but not really."
"Maki-senpai?!"
Yuji hopped down the last two steps—Maki hoped it was a habit of his, she thinks she'd throw up if it was for her. The next person to walk in was Yuta, a worried look on his face. Maki wasn't paying attention to that. What she was looking at was the person lifted over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"Maki!" Yuta yelped, hurrying down the stairs with little care of how your body tossed in the light grip of his arm. Maki furrowed a brow but made no effort to chastise him for his lack of consideration.
"Is it ok for you to move around?"
"Yup. No problem," Maki turned her secondary focus back to your unconscious body over his shoulder, lifting a brow.
"Oh...they were protesting coming here," Yuta gently lifted you off his tired shoulder and held you up with his hands. Maki took control of it immediately and took you in her grasp; Yuta watching her hands hold you up under your arms. She stared at your sleeping face—even unconscious you never looked at peace. Maki felt a twinge of sadness in her chest and adjusted her grip on you to at least make sure your unconscious body was a little comfortable.
"I can wake them up if you need me to."
"That'd be favorable."
Yuta hesitantly took his index and middle fingers and inched them closer to your forehead. He occasionally glanced back at Maki in one second intervals to see if she wasn't preparing to attack him for even grazing your hair. His fingertips lightly tapped your forehead, sending a shockwave through your body and making your eyes jolt open.
Maki's own eyes widened when she saw you waking up, her heart stopping for half a second. A warmth spread through her body as she saw you wriggling in her hands, kicking your feet like a kid and frowning. Maki blinked away the stun she was put in and put you down on the floor, looking straight at you with her default frown.
You stepped away from Maki with wide eyes; your irises glimmered in the dim glow of the light that was hanging off the ceiling. You stared at her as your heart sank in your chest; this was your doing— her scars, the bandages over her eye, the tired look on her face. It was your fault. You left her there—to burn, to be scarred with memories of the night and to stay with her until her last breath. It nearly made you tear up; your eyes were warming up and growing irritated from the tears that were just about to appear. You bit your tongue to keep them contained in their tear ducts, going back to a frown and looking away.
It's crazy how you immediately recognized Maki; maybe it was from that sharp look in her eye that was always present, no matter how tired or how worn out she was. You could never miss those broad shoulders—you could spot them anywhere in a sea of people. Even with her scars your mind fills the gap of what her skin used to be. You wondered if it was still soft between the ridges of burned tissue; in your mind's eye you were caressing her cheeks and arms and other places soothing her with gentle and well-deserved massages. You would find a knot with your fingers, noticing how her back slightly twitches and gently pressing down. Her muscles would tense beneath the delicate touch of your fingertips and slowly rub the knot until her muscles felt loose again, listening and drinking in the sigh of satisfaction that would escape her lips.
"Why am I not with the Higher Ups?" You glared at Yuta, your eyebrows furrowing; the bridge of your nose scrunches up. There are four creases on your forehead, Maki notices; the only indication that your mood swung from being sad when your gaze was on her to being frustrated and angry with Yuta.
"It...took me a while to convince them to let me keep you, and that I killed Yuji. That's also why we're a little late," Yuta glances at Maki nervously in hopes she would ease the situation with her charm that typically cooled your attitude; to no avail. He figured that charm was lost after she'd told you to leave.
"But, we're here now. And in one piece. That's good for all of us."
The whole room was silent as everyone—you, Maki, Yuji, Choso, and Yuki—stared at Yuta. Nobody's face was judgmental but nobody was appreciative of his attempt to lighten up the mood of the room.
"Tough crowd...let's just go to Tengen's barrier."
And for the first time—in a long time, a time which had put you through the throes of despair and pain that made your heart wrench into a raisin—you were walking next to Maki again.
———
hey guys 🤗🤗🤗