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Cold water rushed over Maki’s face, gaining a salty taste as it mixed with her tears. She ran her hands over her belly, as though holding herself would fill the emptiness inside. The shower head sputtered, the stream ceasing for as little as a split second, but long enough to bring Maki back to reality.
“Maki? I’m coming in,” Shuichi warned, opening the bathroom door with his head down. He must have knocked earlier, but Maki hadn’t heard it. She didn’t bother to cover herself as he stepped into the room. Shuichi had more or less been taking care of her since they started renting out the apartment. It made her feel useless and weak, but that’s what she was. She had fallen apart almost completely since she, Shuichi, and Himiko had made it out of the Ultimate Academy for Gifted Juveniles.
She was so much thinner than she had been in the months prior. She lost several kilograms of muscle that she had during Danganronpa, wasting down to a moderate amount of fat on her bones. She didn’t carry herself like she did then. She never left the house and only ate what Shuichi practically spoon-fed her. She felt more than pathetic.
“Maki, you’ve got a nosebleed again,” Shuichi said worriedly, shrugging his coat off onto the tile floor and rushing over to her, lifting her chin with one hand and turning off the shower before grabbing a fistful of toilet paper with the other.
Maki reached to touch her upper lip, her hand coming back stained red. Blood had lost its affect on her. She leaned over the wall of the half-bath to pull Shuichi into a hug. He reciprocated, wetting the uniform shirt of the convenience store he worked at as he held her close. Her wet hair stuck to her back, and Shuichi’s wet shirt to her chest. “I miss him,” she sobbed.
Shuichi didn’t say anything, but his grip around her tightened and she heard him take a crisp inhale through his teeth. He pet Maki’s stringy wet hair.
“Will you let me brush your hair? We can have dinner after, bok choi was on sale. Do you want stir fry?”
“OK.”
He nodded and offered Maki his hand, helping her out of the shower as if she was a fragile old woman. She coughed, her nosebleed spurting a small amount of blood. She hiccuped out a sob and whined, snot and blood leaking into her mouth. It wasn’t the same kind of cough Kaito had suffered through, but she hurt so bad for him. She knew she could never experience the pain he fought through, but in a sick way she felt like it was her responsibility to.
Shuichi had her hold a wad of toilet paper to her face as he mopped up the water from her hair in one of the baby blue towels they used, having her hold another around her body that shined with sweat and tap water.
The two held hands as Shuichi lead them to their bed room, tossing a pair of off-brand basketball shorts, one of Kaito’s t-shirts that the directors had let them keep, and a pair of the underwear Maki liked out on the bed for her. He unbuttoned his own shirt and hung it up, pulling a dry black tee over his head.
Maki dropped her towel, collecting her rations. Shuichi looked away, ever polite and respecting Maki as a friend and a woman before someone he took care of, like a pet. “I’ll go start dinner. You should put some lotion on if your skin feels dry. Please join me when you’re ready.”
“I will.” Maki really valued how much Shuichi respected her. It hurt her that he loved her more than she loved him. She clenched the fabric of the shirt she could only hope Kaito had actually worn before. She would give anything to have Kaito back— anything but Shuichi.
Deciding to follow Shuichi’s advice, she rubbed the lotion they routinely bought into her skin for probably a little too long. She ground her nails into her skin, leaving irritated pink streaks behind. The twinge of pain relieved some of the pain inside her. It felt good, or at least better than holding all the guilt to herself, but Shuichi would scold her.
“Deep breaths,” she reminded herself. A few slow and shaky inhales and exhales…
Her tummy grumbled, jogging her memory to her agenda. If she took too long, Shuichi might think she hurt herself again. It was true that she would give anything to be with Kaito again— including her own life— but the thought of leaving Shuichi by himself hurt her nearly just as much. She collected herself, tying up her hair as she stood.
She moseyed out of the bedroom and into the rest of the apartment, running her hand over the back of the polyester sofa as she passed it. The air was thick with steam, the scent of vegetarian stir fry wafting through it. “Smells good.”
“Good,” Shuichi sighed, relieved. He’d been working really hard to cook decent food, not to mention something that Maki would eat. “Could you grab us plates?”
Maki obliged, standing on the balls of her feet to reach the thick porcelain plates with the green rims that hid in the cupboard above the microwave. They felt a little heavy, and suddenly her tummy had a pain in it that was different than hunger.
She set them down as gently as she could, almost silently, stepping out from the nook of the apartment that was the kitchen and striding across the room to visit the balcony. She could hear the warning rising in Shuichi’s throat. “I won’t go outside.”
Maki hopped on the back of the sofa, raising one knee to her chest and resting her head in it. Her fingers were laced over her foot as she sat gazing through the sliding glass door. She felt locks of hair that was drying wavy fall out from the hastily tied bun and over her shoulders. After a few moments, the sizzling in the background slowed and Shuichi nudged her arm with a plateful of stir fry.
“Thanks.”
“Yeah.” Shuichi eyed her as she raised her fork to her mouth, absentmindedly shuffling the vegetables around on his own plate. When she chewed and swallowed it fully, he seemed at least partially satisfied and stared eating his own food.
Neither of them spoke until they finished their plates. Shuichi was first, but he patiently waited for Maki.
“I’ll wash them,” Maki offered through a mouthful of Shuichi’s cooking.
“Oh. Thanks.” Shuichi batted his eyes at her offer, surprised that she had enough energy to take on the task.
She nodded and swallowed, taking Shuichi’s plate as she stood.
“Do you want a drink?” Shuichi asked as if he needed a task or he would dissipate, turning his head to follow Maki as she walked.
“No.”
“OK.” Shuichi pressed his lips together and laced his fingers, slouching. Not disappointed, just empty-handed. Maki knew he was coping by keeping himself busy, but he needed a break as much as she needed to do something.
—
Maki sat crosslegged on the bed, Shuichi behind her. The comb pulled her head back by her hair, pushing through the tangles of her excessively long hair. Shuichi was diligent and gentle, so it was in no way his fault. Maki’s pain tolerance wasn’t low anyway. Maki’s laptop sat in front of her with her e-mail open. She had been emailing Himiko back and forth since they moved to Wakayama and she moved to Nagano, giving about 510 kilometers between them and a couple thousand yen every trip. Himiko could probably afford it more than they could, but they didn’t want to cost her too much. Money was tight in both parties, even for popular Danganronpa contestants.
“Himiko says she can come see us tomorrow.” Maki dragged her finger lightly over her keyboard, playing a symphony with the cold clicking sounds of the keys.
“Oh!” Shuichi’s eyes brightened as he peered over her shoulder. “When? Here?”
“Yeah. Whenever you get off work.”
Shuichi groaned. “I work two consecutive shifts tomorrow. I don’t get off until late.”
“OK.”
“Are you going to decline?” Shuichi hissed through his teeth in disappointment. “Tell her I miss her.”
“OK.” Maki nodded again in her typical monotone.
“Would she stay for long if she visited?” Shuichi dropped the comb, which landed on the bed with a soft thud. He ran his fingers through her partially dried hair, beginning to weave a thick braid into her elegant hair.
“I don’t know. I guess I’ll ask.”
--
Reply: Himiko Yumeno
Subject: Trip to Wakayama
Sorry. Shuichi said he doesn’t get off until late tomorrow. We miss you though, I’ll ask him when an OK day is and we’ll see you then. We can call tomorrow if you want but it will just be me. I wish Nagano wasn’t so far and trains weren’t so expensive. Shuichi wants to know if you would stay for long when you visit.
Love,
Maki and Shuichi
--
Himiko’s response came swiftly, only moments after Maki pressed send. “She must be lonely,” Maki commented, earning a sigh from Shuichi.
--
Reply: Maki Harukawa
Subject: Trip to Wakayama
That’s cool. Don’t worry about it, it’s great that he’s working again. You should send me his schedule. I’ll try and move my shows around to make them line up.
I’d love to call tomorrow. I’ll call you tomorrow at lunchtime after my rehearsal ends. And don’t worry about the cash. I’d stay for a couple days. I don’t mind staying on the couch, I know you only have one bedroom.
I hope I’ll see you guys soon,
Himiko
--
“I’ll take a picture of it tomorrow so you can send it to her.” Shuichi rested his head on top of Maki’s while he read the e-mail. He tied off her braid with one of her signature velvet scrunchies and tossed it to the side, laying down, Maki still practically in his lap.
“She didn’t say I love you back.”
Shuichi sat up on his elbows. “You didn’t say that to her.”
Maki pointed at the screen. “I said, ‘Love, Maki and Shuichi.’”
“You know she loves us.”
Maki took a deep breath and fell backwards unto Shuichi’s tummy. “I like being reminded.”
Shuichi played with the paintbrush end of her hair. “I love you, Maki.”
Maki exhaled with an ever soft smile. “I love you.”
The three of them had begun telling each other about their love for one another once they got out of the Academy for Gifted Juveniles. Maki figured it was because they all realized how fleeting things really were, that nothing was permanent and little was guaranteed.
“Are you ready for bed?” Shuichi inquired rubbing his hands up Maki’s bare back, under Kaito’s shirt.
“I have to brush my teeth. I’ll be quick.”
Maki ran her hands over the braid Shuichi had procured for her as she stared into the mirror, toothbrush in her mouth. Her bangs poked her eyes and had begun to obscure her vision, and they were little wavy from being tied earlier, though Shuichi had brushed what little curls she had out. She probed her eyebrows, thinking that they looked thicker than she thought they should be. Her pores were probably clogged, she hadn’t done a face mask in a long time. Her eyes were puffy and pinkish from all the crying she’d done that afternoon and evening.
Shuichi appeared behind her, hugging her from behind. “Are you OK? You took longer than I thought you would.”
“I look rough.” Her words were slurred by the toothbrush.
“What? No you don’t.” Shuichi leaned towards the mirror, squinting at Maki’s reflection. “You look fine.”
“I need to go out more.”
Shuichi tried to hide the shock on his face. “What?”
“I don’t feel pretty.”
“Are you okay?” Shuichi’s eyebrows were furrowed, his eyes serious. “You never talk like this.”
Maki dragged the toothbrush down her tongue. “I’m fine.” Maki lied, almost choking on her false statement. “Why are you upset that I’m trying to get better?”
“That’s not it at all.”
“Why don’t I believe you?” Her throat began tightening. The cold exterior she had been able to put on in the past had dissolved completely recently, and Shuichi had begun to see Maki’s raw emotions— which she usually didn’t even let herself reflect on.
“Maki, you’re making that up.” Shuichi’s tone got sharp, the way it always did when Maki talked badly about either of them, or about the choices that they had made in the killing game.
“Stop pretending to be him.”
“What?” Shuichi looked devastated. “No, I’m not. I can’t be him. You know that.”
Maki clenched Kaito’s shirt again. She felt her face heat up. “I hate myself for wishing that you would.”
Shuichi’s face fell even further. “Oh.”
She dug the ball of her thumb into her eye socket, holding her toothbrush with a death grip. “I hate that you let me,” she hiccuped.
Shuichi grasped Kaito’s shirt over Maki’s fist, kissing her ear. “I’m sorry I can’t be him.”
“Fuck, Shuichi!” Maki coughed mid-exclamation, weakly pushing away Shuichi, who didn’t budge. “I don’t want you to be him. No one is him.”
“It’s not your fault.” He kissed at the hairline at the back of her neck.
“I don’t want you take care of me. I’m sick of feeling helpless. I should have done better.”
Shuichi met her eyes in the reflection. Maki hiccuped again. “I don’t want to break down like this.”
Shuichi planted his forehead on the back of Maki’s head. “It’s a little late for that,” he laughed.
Maki turned around and matched her forehead with Shuichi’s, breathing wet and uneven. “You’re not Kaito. But I love you, too.”
“I’m glad,” Shuichi whispered, pushing back Maki’s bangs and kissing her forehead. “Maki, there is nothing that could stop me from loving you.”