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She jolts awake with a silent scream, hands grasping at the sheets, almost tearing holes into them. Her heart is pounding in her ears and there isn’t enough air in the room to fill her lungs.
Maki unclasps her fingers from their tight grasp and stares at them. They seem clean – no blood covering the skin, sinking so deep between the cracks and the wrinkles that she couldn’t wash it off even if she scrubbed for hours. There is no red colour covering her hands, but even with her consciousness groggy after the abrupt awakening she knows it doesn’t mean her vices have been washed away.
It has been one of these dreams again. They are not the same, every time she remembers different people – her parents, Mai, Naoya, the Hei, the Kukuru Unit, other Zenins she has found and slaughtered. She has ended so many lives that her nightmares never have an issue finding new cast members to play the main roles.
Maki doesn’t remember the face clearly this time. She doesn’t know the name of this woman, but she recalls she was often seen with Naoya – one of countless women he bedded. She and Maki never talked. The only time they interacted, the woman spat in Maki’s tea and that was it.
What Maki remembers clearly is sinking a sword through her throat.
She doesn’t know why she did it. There is no justification. The woman never wanted to hurt her and when Maki found her she pleaded for mercy.
Nothing she did could make her deserve the violent death. But she was a Zenin and that was enough for Maki.
There was another face today. A young boy, face half covered by a mask. His brows were furrowed in concentration as he gripped his sword. His stance was unsteady, the form of someone weak and unsuited for fighting. He only raised his sword because he was given an order.
Maki cut his arms off. When she walked past the body later he was unmoving, a pool of drying blood surrounding his thin frame.
Mai often shows up by the end. Her lifeless body, slain and broken, a doll with the strings cut off.
Brutally murdered by a man Maki now realizes she is not so different from. All they both know is how to destroy the weak.
Maki’s body is shaking with anger and disgust. Bile rushes up to her throat. All this effort to force herself to eat the tasteless dinner and what for? She rushes to the bathroom and barely has enough time to lean over the sink and vomit.
She retches for what feels like endlessly dragging minutes. She finishes, but she still doesn’t feel clean so she leans over the sink again and forces herself to throw up more until there is nothing but blissful hollowness inside.
The nasty smell is clogging her senses and she turns on the water, washing away the mixture of half-digested food. Bits and pieces of what used to be her dinner stubbornly stay stuck in the drain and she has to push them through with her fingers.
Maki avoids looking at her face in the mirror as she walks out the bathroom, legs weak and unsteady. At least her head is empty, buzzing with white noise - the confusion of the body pushing out the worries of her dreams.
She walks to the kitchen absent-mindedly. There was a bottle of water Yuuta threw in the fridge in the evening, preparing for the hot day ahead, she remembers it vaguely. Maki grabs it and drinks from it slowly, the liquid washing away the acidity of the bile.
“Oh, hi. You are up,” someone says. Maki jerks and icy water splashes on her shirt, the sudden sensation makes her feel disoriented. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry for startling you.”
She looks up at the boy standing in the doorway to the kitchen. His cursed energy is familiar and dense, filling in the space around him. It’s absurd that Maki could fail to notice him coming up to her, but here she is.
“Hello, Yuuta.”
“Why are you not sleeping? It’s past one pm,” he says, a phrase that should, in theory, come with judgment, but from Yuuta it just sounds easy and lighthearted, like he is asking Maki to let him in on an exciting secret.
“Just came up for a drink.” She doesn’t meet his eyes, choosing instead to look down at her shirt. There is a large dark spot in the center where the water spilled. “You?”
“I was reading in my room. Heard you get up and decided to check up on you,” he says, scratching his head sheepishly.
“You don’t need to check up on me. I’m alright.” That comes out more defensive than she might have liked. “Interesting book?”
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool. Reading helps me unwind. It’s nice to stop thinking about everything happening and what has happened in the last months and just focus on the characters and their lives. It’s a nice distraction.” Yuuta is actually holding a book in his hand, fingers caressing the spine gently. He looks peaceful in a way that Maki envies.
“That’s… a good hobby. I’m glad you enjoy it.”
Yuuta hesitates and then takes a deep inhale and walks up to her. He smiles at Maki and then slowly pries the water bottle out of her hand, bringing it to his own mouth. Maki cannot tear her eyes away from his expression, serene and content despite the usual eyebags.
“What do you do? To cope?”
A knot tightens in her stomach, Maki takes a slow step back.
“Cope with what?”
Yuuta shrugs. “Stuff. The last year has been brutal. All of us have something we struggle with.”
“I don’t.”
She lies before she can even think about it. There are so many reasons to do so, it would be hard to choose one. If she shows that she isn’t in fact coping well with anything going on in her life, her weakness will be used against her. If she tells anyone of the nightmares and the guilt that feels like shackles around her heart, how can she ask anyone to feel bad for her, if she knows she deserves her every nightmare? How can she be a good comrade if her friends feel like they need to coddle and protect her instead?
It's obviously better if her burden remains hers to bear.
“You know you can talk to me, right? We are friends. You can tell me if something is wrong, I’ll understand…” he says, the softest smile on his face. They are still very close. Maki can sense his body’s warmth radiating off his skin. Everything in his voice and his gaze screams sincerity. It’s blinding. Maki doesn’t know how to deal with it.
So many vicious enemies she has defeated without her heartbeat even quickening, but one look at Yuuta and she steps back, scared.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she manages to push through her teeth. She almost believes herself.
Yuuta responds with a dejected sigh. A shake of his head. His hands find Maki’s – she jolts and tries to free them half-heartedly, but Yuuta’s grasp is firm. He doesn’t let her go.
“I wouldn’t push you if I didn’t feel like it was necessary. Your state concerns me. All you do is work and train, you don’t talk to others and you don’t rest. You don’t eat or sleep well either. It’s no way to live. I care about you, Maki, that’s why I worry.” His fingers draw circles on the backs of her hands. “I want to help you.”
“There is nothing to worry about, Yuuta. I’m managing alright,” she replies with the practised phrases.
It should be enough to get Yuuta off her back. They are all so busy these days, there’s barely enough time for them to worry about themselves, and no one has the energy to play therapist for one another. Why would Yuuta bother to push her further after she repeatedly told him it’s not necessary? She wouldn’t act like this for any other person – she doesn’t expect others to treat her this way.
But Yuuta isn’t just any other person.
“No, you aren’t.”
The comment makes her bristle. She tears her hands out of his grasp and pushes him away, even though her hands feel cold without his touch.
“You think I’m weak? Want to play savior? Spare me this crap.”
She doesn’t think Yuuta could really mean that. He’s too much of a softie to ever look down on someone. There is no malice in his heart, contrast to Maki’s. But the way he phrased himself still fills Maki with irritation, only fueled by her exhaustion.
“You know I don’t mean that. I have never seen you this way. Maki, you are incredibly strong and I’ve always admired you, but that doesn’t mean you need to be strong every moment of your life. Hell, even Gojo-sensei isn’t invincible as we have found out. Even he struggles. It’s okay.”
Maki closes her mouth. She may hate it, but he has a point. They all thought nothing could harm their sensei. Even when he got captured in the Prison Realm, she didn’t think less of him. Even the strongest could be tricked. She thought they just needed to free him, and everything would be fine again.
She didn’t expect to see Gojo that loses himself in countless anxiety attacks, unable to leave his room for months after being released.
No matter how strong he is, he is still human and humans are weak.
But even if Yuuta is correct here, it doesn’t mean she has to go and be weak as well.
“Gojo and I are two different people. Why are you bringing him up?”
“I’m trying to tell you it’s okay to not be okay. Because it’s clear you don’t believe that.”
“I don’t know if you noticed, Yuuta, but we are still in a major crisis situation. Curses are out of control. Tengen is dead. Dozens of other sorcerers are dead. It’s not exactly the best time to be having a breakdown.”
“I promise you, if you don’t let yourself have a break, then you will have a breakdown at the most inconvenient time possible. Is this what you are going for?” He looks tired now, slightly irritated, even though he is trying to hide it. Yuuta is losing his patience with her, it’s obvious. He will probably just shake his head dejectedly again and go to his room now. She doesn’t know why the thought fills her with more dread than relief, although it should be the opposite. But she doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want him to leave her right now, when she is frayed and fragile like this. The rejection would hurt too much.
It's better to be the one who leaves than the one that is left behind.
“I’m gonna go back to bed. I’ve had enough of this conversation.” Maki shakes her head, turning around so she doesn’t have to look at Yuuta’s pitying gaze. A step is taken – Yuuta grabs her hand before she can take another.
“Maki, please… I’m sorry if I’m laying it strong, but I care about you, and when you care about people, you want them to be happy. You aren’t happy at all. And it pains me to see this.”
Something breaks inside of her, shatters into pieces. Why is Yuuta like this? How can he always be so fucking nice? He has gone through so much pain and trauma. The weight of responsibility pushed onto him when he was brought into their world should have crushed him. All the pain and death he witnessed – and he just became kinder.
Where Maki broke down, Yuuta grew to become the best version of himself. Why would someone like him have so much compassion for the likes of her?
A giant lump is stuck in her throat – Maki doesn’t know how she manages to get the words out at all.
“Why… Why would you want me to be happy?” she mutters, still turned away from the figure of the young man she cannot look in the eyes of.
She hears his breath stutter. His cursed energy flares in the air, a sign of the disturbed emotions she has come to look for when in combat. Use it as an opening to take down the opponent.
“Because you are a wonderful person.”
She lets out a broken laugh.
“I really am not.”
His hand on hers tightens. The comfort his touch brings her feels unearned.
“Why are you saying this?”
“Because it’s true.”
“No, it’s not. You are amazing, Maki. You put your own needs behind for the common good. You are determined and extremely talented. You push forward despite everything being against you. Why wouldn’t I want you to be happy?” he says, voice soft like he is talking to a feral animal. That’s who she is at this point, either way.
Yuuta just chooses the wrong strategy to interact with the animal – instead of placating her, he would be better off leaving her alone before he actually gets hurt.
“This doesn’t matter.”
“Why?”
Because I’m a disgrace. Because I murdered and slaughtered countless people out of rage, hunted them down for sport, never once stopping to think who of them deserved it and who didn’t. Because Mai died and I couldn’t save her and that was enough reason to kill others like her – people simply born into the clan, too weak to free themselves from the clutches of their abuser.
She cannot say it all. She already hates herself enough. Selfishly, she doesn’t want Yuuta to hate her too, even when it would be justified.
“I need to go.” Maki’s voice wavers. She prays inside that Yuuta will let her. She doesn’t want him to see her at her lowest. She doesn’t want his pity.
Arms curl around her middle, trapping her in place. “Please, don’t. Don’t be alone.”
The gentleness in his touch and his voice are too hard to handle. A sob breaks out of her throat. The hands that fly to her mouth aren’t fast enough to stifle it. Her whole body shakes like she is stuck in a blizzard, but her skin burns where Yuuta touches her.
“It’s okay. Let it out.”
It’s like the floodgates open, tears stream down her cheeks uncontrollably as her body is wracked with sobs. There are no thoughts in her head about why she is crying, the pain inside of her is immeasurable. Her hands fall from her face to Yuuta’s arms on her stomach and clasp tightly like he is her lifeline.
Yuuta doesn’t say anything. He just turns Maki around and lets her bury her face in his chest, soiling his shirt with her tears. She doesn’t deny his affections – despite knowing that she should. She should just leave and spend a restless night in her cold bed, but instead she lets him lead them to a couch in the living room. He lies Maki on top of him and covers them with a blanket.
Maki doesn’t struggle. She cannot stop crying for a single moment. She clings to him like a child, pathetic as it sounds, and lets her frustrations out. Everything that has been brooding and accumulating in her mind for months as life was too quick and brutal to let her take a break and process at least something - everything spills out. Once she starts, it seems impossible to stop.
She cries about the blood on her hands that she will never wash off, and her mother’s pleas to let her go as Maki slit her throat. She cries about the nightmares that haunt her and break her down slowly with time, driving her insane. She cries about the fact that her newly acquired strength had to arrive with Mai’s last dying breath.
There is so much wrong with her existence, it feels like it would be fairer if she just died.
The thought churns bitter in her mind. She wails and clings to Yuuta closer, listening to the words of reassurance he mutters in her ear.
“It’s okay.”
“It will pass.”
“You are a good person.”
“We all love and treasure you.”
“Maki.”
“Maki.”
“Maki.”
She raises her face from his chest and looks at him through her sticky eyelashes. Tears are still running down her cheeks, but her sobs grow rarer. Her throat is sore and burned from the wailing. Her appearance must be absolutely miserable and ruined, but he only smiles at her and puts a palm to her wet cheek.
His gaze is so honest, like it sees through her like glass. There has never been another person in her life that ever understood her so well, someone she trusted and admired as much.
There has never been another, who she would entrust her life to.
“Yuuta, do you think… do you think it is okay for me to live? After everything I have done. Be honest with me. Don’t just tell me what I want to hear.”
The irony of her asking Yuuta this question after hearing it almost word for word from him all those years ago isn’t lost on her.
“But you want me to tell you that you shouldn’t live, don’t you? I won’t tell you that.” She hates that he is right. A big part of her wants to be hated because she thinks that she deserves it. She realizes now that she wants to die, because like this, at least the guilt will cease. Yuuta shakes her head at her expression. “Maki, we all do bad things and make mistakes.”
“Not everyone’s mistakes are pools of blood left behind.” All the blood she sees in her nightmares. Maki’s fingers flex as if she expects them to feel wet and sticky.
“Mine are the same though, don’t you think? All the people Rika has hurt and killed because I cursed her. I hurt my family.” He says it with a voice that’s calm and even. It doesn’t pain him to say these words anymore. Like he accepted the reality of his sins. Could she ever accept hers?
“I killed mine.” A barely-heard whisper that shakes the air in the quiet room.
“I know,” he says as if this revelation doesn’t change the way he sees her at all. He talks like he sees her through like an X-ray but inexplicably still isn’t disgusted with Maki’s very existence.
“I will go to hell for it one day.” It feels like a weight is lifted off her chest as she confesses.
“If that is where you are headed, I’m sure we will meet down there,” he says, and the thought doesn’t scare him at all.
It’s been so long since Maki last felt relief, she almost doesn't recognise the feeling. Her muscles relax and her breathing evens out - she forgot she could feel like that. But a tight hug and a dozen words are suddenly enough to unclog the drain in the river of her raging emotions.
He doesn’t try to console her, or tell her that her sins don’t matter, because of course they do. All these people - their lives were worth something. Yuuta understands what it feels like to feel responsible for the pain you caused, he knows what it’s like. And despite her misgivings, he still wants to stay close. At a moment like this, Maki doesn’t have the will to push him away.
They stay silent for a while after this. Maki’s head feels blissfully empty, and her eyelids grow heavier to the even rhythm of Yuuta’s hand stroking her hair.
She is almost asleep in his arms by the time he speaks again.
“No one can tell you if you are allowed to live or not. It’s not their decision to make. Only yours. I told myself I could do it back then, when I realized that I found my place and my purpose. I want to help you find yours again, too, if you want to let me. Maybe it’s selfish to overlook the pain we caused others, but I have found that the only way to make amends with the world and oneself is to move forward. And if you are overwhelmed with the guilt you feel, then let me carry part of your burden.”
Maki’s eyes fly open. She rises to look him in the eyes. The degree of intensity in his expression is something she only ever saw from him. No one else she knows shows this much conviction. To know that this time it is caused by her makes her bashful.
“Why do you care about that so much? About me?” she adds reluctantly to the end. “It’s not out of pity, right? Or because you feel like you owe me, because you really don’t.”
Yuuta shakes his head, a gentle smile on his lips. His hand finds its place on Maki’s cheek, skin salty with dried tear tracks. His fingertips trace over her face slowly and reverently, as if it isn’t marred with ugly scars. Maki shivers at the touch.
“It’s easy, actually. You keep looking for hidden meanings, but you don’t need to. You are the most important person in my life, and seeing you in pain tears my heart apart. That’s more than enough for me.”
His voice doesn’t tremble when he says it. Maki listens to his heartbeat and it’s as even, not a trace of lies or nerves. The words ring true. There is nothing that Maki could think or say that could erase their sincerity from existence.
Her fingers clutch Yuuta’s shirt and she looks away. What could she ever reply to reverence of this sort?
Thoughts in disarray, she mouths, “You have shit taste, you know.”
Yuuta responds with a light laugh. “This is one thing I will have to disagree with you on. But that can wait until tomorrow. Sleep now.”
“What? Here?”
“Yeah. Right here.” Yuuta rearranges the blanket that covers them and rests his arms on Maki’s back in a loose embrace. “Don’t go. I want to hold you.”
“Your back is going to kill you tomorrow if you sleep on the couch like this,” Maki says, but she doesn’t make a move to get up from Yuuta. His hands on her back warm her to the very core. She also doesn’t want to go.
“Will be all worth it if I get to keep you safe at night.”
There is no danger to be found on the campus, they both know it. But if Yuuta has the power to save her from the nightmares that haunt her for the rest of the night, Maki isn’t going to push him away.