Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Maki had never contemplated suicide. Even though she’s suffered at the hands of despicable people, leaving this earth just didn’t cross her mind—failing to live would give those miscreants too much satisfaction in knowing they were right. She held her head high through the browbeating, neglect, and humiliation imposed upon her in that horrid house. Always the servant, never the served. She wasn’t alone, though. There was someone else with the same amber eyes glimmering with innocence and curiosity, the same mischievous smile that radiated such delicacy who stuck by Maki through thick and thin, taking their fair share of abuse, together.

Memories of her sister were now buried in the deepest parts of Maki’s mind, like a treasure chest thrown overboard from a ship into the bottom of the ocean. It was as if she had no sister. Not that it hurt to remember her, but it didn’t bring joy either, not with how Maki left. There wasn’t much that brought joy nowadays.

Maki was an incredibly bright little girl; she planned the direction she wanted to go in life for years after she heard there was someone from the family who disappeared before she was born. But no one dared to explain what happened to him—if he was just an urban legend, at the very least. One time, she was watching TV with her cousins when the parents were out, and one of the young ones asked an older cousin about this black sheep of the family. The boy was told that they were forbidden to talk about it. Her little cousin pressed the issue even further, asking why it was forbidden, but her other cousins told him if he didn’t shut up, they’d beat him. One said there was no point in caring about what happened in the past. The younger generation weren't supposed to know anything about him.

They didn’t want another Zen’in defecting.

But Maki didn’t care about what her family wanted. She had to come up with her own way of leaving the wretched family; although she didn’t know how he did it, he was proof it was possible. Maki thought, whatever he was doing now, it must be better than living with the family—even if he was dead.

At sixteen, she ran away. All she left was a note by her drunk grandpa, lying on the living room floor, saying that she was no longer going to be their servant, and she’d be gone by the time he awoke. One day, they’ll see her again, thriving and filled with joy, no thanks to them. She packed some personal items into her backpack and quietly crept out of the house, the most quiet she’s ever been in the house. It was a house tainted with vitriol and a clandestine smell of opium. God knows it was almost time for their place to be raided. Only one person was awake when she ran away, sitting on the floor next to the door, looking at the glowing sunrise. 

I hate you.

Her sister’s voice was ridden with bitterness and anguish. It didn't sound like her. . . it wasn't her Mai. Maki didn’t reply, didn’t look back. In the note she left for her grandpa, Maki wrote that her sister had nothing to do with her decision to leave—she hoped they would understand that.

It wasn’t all too bad after leaving: she found a homeless youth shelter online that provided accommodation, meals, job attainment services and education. She knew that the illicit lifestyle she grew up in only brought problems. Arrests and jail time were a common occurrence, but due to her family’s conniving ways, no one was ever left out of the dust; the vermin always came back home. No one in that household ever cared for breaking the cycle—rinse and repeat. But Maki cared. Her best chance at becoming successful outside that hellhole was to earn enough money to support herself. She needed to take her education more seriously.

There was still a chance Maki could get accepted into a public university in a big city with a high acceptance rate, her teacher said. All she had to do was pass the high school equivalency exam and the university entrance exam. But she wasn’t the brightest bulb—Maki spent more time with the delinquents outside of school than in it. Her excellence lied somewhere else: Maki was gifted in athleticism. She found solace in exercising and sports throughout her life, even taking up martial arts, until her parents found out that she was stealing money from them to pay for lessons. 

What the hell were you thinking stealing from us, as if you could ever become good enough, her mother spat at her. 

Like mom, like daughter, Maki taunted.

Maki’s bruises stung with every movement she made in her bed that night.

She spent three years at the shelter, studying day and night, sometimes with the other teens looking to make something of themselves. This was the hardest task she had ever attempted, all so she could earn something many in here family didn’t: a meaningful purpose. This was the path she took—she had to see where it ended. 

Despite escaping from her family’s wrath, there were moments where she couldn’t help but wonder if she was on the right path. Would she really turn out better than the rest? The abuse she experienced would surely lead anyone to drastic measures, she thought. Life-ending measures. Did she experience so much pain that it short-circuited her brain? Was she truly resilient? Was feeling nothing after snippets of her dad and cousins throwing her to the floor, causing her skin to split open and blood to pour out, appeared in her dreams normal? Maybe nothing was better than something.

Nevertheless, those fleeting thoughts never pushed Maki to the edge, never halted her journey. She was accepted into a university far from home, in Tokyo, to study Sports Science. Exercising was her passion, and since she was prevented from actualizing her dreams of becoming an athlete, she wanted to at least be part of the industry. When she received the acceptance email, she was elated, her whole being bloomed like a wilted rose reinvigorated with life. The other kids at the shelter joked, saying they were shocked that the “death machine” could smile. But they were happy for her, and they showed Maki what it felt like to be accepted into a community. Sure, she disliked some, scared others, but she developed nice relationships, especially with this younger boy with dark, spiky hair and a nonchalant face. 

At first, he was stoic and unconcerned with the shenanigans that went down, never partaking, only with his sister who was also living at the shelter. But Maki must’ve done something to him unknowingly because, one day, he approached her, asking if she needed his help with her workbook. She refused at first, and he walked away, sitting at the sofa in the study room doing his assignments. Eventually, Maki couldn't take it anymore—the problems on the page weren't making sense. Maki, who always refused to ask for help and relied on herself, let him in. She called over the grumpy-looking boy and asked if his offer was still on the table. He said yes. They clicked instantly. After that, he didn’t ask anymore—they simply came together to study. His sister noticed and started talking more to Maki, which had her tetchy at first due to the girl’s sugary personality, but Maki warmed up to her eventually. She talked to Maki in a way she’s never been talked to at home: with understanding.

They lost contact after Maki left. She thought of them now and then, hoping they too were able to get on the right path.

No one from her family tried to locate her in the three years she was gone. Not that she wanted them to—those three years brought more contentment into her than in the past fifteen. Her momentum was at an all-time high.

And in university, she wanted to keep that momentum going.