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The white glow coming out of his hands glimmered. Jaw tightened, and eyebrows furrowed; Yuta focused on the slash on Maki's palm, the blood fresh and coagulating. It left a coppery tang in the air. The smell of wood and fresh bedsheets was washed out by that sense of pain, making Yuta dread going to sleep. There's a feeling in his gut; he can't shake that something is wrong. He becomes a bundle of nerves, ignoring how Maki isn't just bleeding; she's oozing out all the tension she's been carrying in these last missions. It's only fair, he thinks. She's saved him so many times, even with the curse they just defeated. It's only fair that he tries to heal her. The sound of her voice is starting to help strengthen the air. Maybe she's saying something about him going away, but Yuta doesn't care. Even if things don't feel right.
It may be the millionth cut or curse Maki faces, and certainly not the last, but Yuta still wishes nothing could even graze her. The first time he saw her get truly hurt, the attack was from none other than Geto Seguru, an attack that almost ended the lives of his friends. A fight where he swore he would give his life to his beloved and vowed to live the rest of his days with her. Just like with his darling, Maki swore any of her injuries were just accidents . That didn't feel too right, either. "Accident" doesn't describe those moments properly. Being covered in blood because you were injured by a former student who attended your high school doesn't sound like a mere accident . Being covered in blood from your fiancée crawling back to you after a car hit her isn't too accidental either.
Maybe the memory was still too fresh as if the first time he saw how frail life could be was mere moments ago. Maybe that freshness makes him use reverse cursed technique at any minuscule cut. That or the realization he could even do it. Once Yuta recognized that he had the power to undo harm bestowed on anyone, he ached to go back in time. Stop any hurt he ever caused; maybe he would use it to put Rika back together. Responsible is a better word to describe the feeling, like he was the only one who could stop more people from being hurt whenever they walked into his life.
That pressure sits on his shoulders even more with the news. Gojo-sensei mentioned sending him abroad to look for a cursed tool, a trip only he could do. Far away from his friends, far away from her.
The short buzz of his energy mixed in with the sweat lining his face is becoming overwhelming. His heart is pounding in his ears, the blood pooling on his face, blushing. The first time he used reverse cursed technique, he acted on instinct. The recollection lingered in him, wondering how he managed to heal entire bodies without straining himself. Without that sound of his heart ramming into-
"Well, you don't have anything to say?"
He looks up, startled. He was too focused on the glow of his hands to realize Maki was still lecturing him until she raised her voice. Yuta feels his heart skip a beat. The blood rushes to his cheeks, making him blush more. "I'm just trying to help you," he sighed, "stand still."
She scoffs, "You really weren't listening;" she starts to shuffle, trying to stand up, "I said I'm fine. Leave it," Maki grumbles. "Absolutely not!" Yuta puts his hands on her shoulders to push her back down, finally looking away from her hands. "Yuta, I-" Maki's pupils seemed to shake inside her eyes. Her mouth started to move, but she pressed her lips together to stop herself. Yuta blinks, then twice. "I'm just trying to help, Maki!
"So am I."
Her voice is a knife, welding through the thick tension. The surrounding air had been suffocating lately, like something had been following them to strain them apart. Does she know he might go away? "Look, we're both tired. I'm sure you'll have better things to fix soon enough." Absolutely not. What could possibly be the priority over helping her? His heart drops into his stomach, and his mouth slacks as he tries to build a sentence to convince her to stay. "I'm sorry, I-" Like water to a broken dam, Yuta spills out his thoughts without giving much thought to how little sense he was making. "Just let me help you, please." He thinks he might just cry, watching her stumble from her ache and exhaustion.
Maki sighs, rubbing her temples as they throb. Her shoulder sags, and she looks into Yuta's eyes. "Fine. But forget about the bruises on my legs; just finish off my hand." Yuta sits up as he watches her plop down into his bed. A wave of relief settles into him when she lets him start healing again. His brows furrow; all he can see is her cut, her blood, her pain, her healing. "Don't strain yourself" her voice. "I won't get any better if I don't practice if that's what you're worried about," Yuta replies.
Having to perform reverse cursed technique on command was entirely different; there was no adrenaline, no quickness. He only felt a faint dread that he wasn't moving fast enough. Her skin closes slowly, finally showing that his technique is working. "Whoa," Maki whispered. "I'm almost done; I just don't want to sting you," he mumbled as the wound finally finished soothing itself.
"Thank you, Okkot-su," she sing-songs, almost mocking his worried tone from before.
"Is it really so bad that I care about you?"
Oh.
With the buzz seizing, Yuta's dorm had grown silent, his mouth covered by his hand. He could see how Maki turned to glare at him, her posture straightened with surprise. They were alone in the night, just like in their missions. They could only look for each other, like that first time he failed her, a curse swallowing them whole. He failed her. Her, her, her. He'll fail her if he really does have to be sent away. "Sor-" he stumbles, whispering faintly, "sorry." Maki cocks her head, "You've been acting off lately, is something up?"
Shit.
"No, no. I only want to practice so I can get better at it."
"Really?"
"Yes, really."
"Really, really?"
He's learned Maki isn't one to give up. She's like him in that sense, taking it too far, beyond their own good, if it means they finally succeeded in their cause. She had good intuition; despite not being taken seriously as a sorcerer, she could already tell when something was wrong. Yuta sighed, resigning himself, and he opened up. "Gojo-sensei said I might leave the school, but only for a bit." You're failing her, he thinks. He can't even look at her in the eye when he is delivering the news. "Ah." She exhaled.
In his throat, he can feel a lump forming. That wasn't true; Yuta knew Maki would catch on eventually, guilt seeping in from even trying to lie to her. That was the right word for him, guilty . He remembers that feeling, not the supposed "accident" he stays fixated on, but the moment right before.
Her faint voice meddles with the sound of street traffic, her skin radiant under the glowing sun, Rika before she was stolen away from the world. "Forever, right? You said forever, Yuta?" She asks as she squeezed his hand tight. Sometimes, he still feels it, little fingers firmly grasping his, that very moment right before he failed her, where he couldn't protect her. There was a little hint of affection in his name when she called him. He nodded, "Yes, forever." For the last time, or so he thought.
He heard that hint of affection one more time. That small "Yuta" when he came in to heal her the first time. That time, he cradled her and knew Rika had caught on. Rika snatched her, and he had to scold her, telling her to be careful. And that very feeling returned. She needs me; don't fail her, he thought. She called his name like all she saw was him, like all she spoke was for him, asking if they were starting a new forever, a life together. A new life with her, with Maki.
Maki settles deeper into the bed's plush, crossing her legs close to him. That stuttering, unknowing habit of his grows more potent. He doesn't know what to say, how to ask her if she's mad at him, or if she suspects him of that guilt building inside him.
Was he quiet for too long?
"I'll be waiting here for you, I suppose," she mumbles, breaking his train of thought. It's like that's all she had to say to make his muscles unfurl, that tautness in him unwind. She'll wait for him. Yuta's habit continues; his heart unknowingly scrapes and skips beats at her admission. Intently, he studies the firm features framing her face. Her eyes are little flames, setting him on fire. Unknowingly, Yuta moved his hand closer, his pinky finger barely brushing against hers, even as he thought of Rika's grasp when she was alive. "Oh" is all he can manage to say.
She shifts, her own fingers starting to curl around his. Her hands. He loved the feeling of her delicate, soft skin despite all the fighting she'd done. Her hips join his, causing them to sit closer. Inadvertently, he admires, almost gawks, at the bruises on her legs that seem to paint her like she's truly delicate like he really does need to protect her, even when he knows it's not true. How did she always manage to make the simplest things so achingly sweet? "Thank you," she gestures at their joined digits, "I mean it. For my hand." That tone, the fondness from before. She says it like she already knows there's not a thing he wouldn't do for her. His life could end as he knows it, but Yuta would let it if she asked him to. "Yeah." Yuta's barely whispering.
The moonlight has reached its center in the sky, peering in to illuminate the room. Unlike the sounds of a busy street, this time, only their voices can fill up the room. The nighttime silence leads to an easiness in Yuta; nothing here should be able to tear them apart. The past is in the past, he thinks as he turns to her. Maki's face seems to shine, her eyes still little flames, indulging in watching him burn. She's so close that their breathing intermingles, inhaling her sighs. The tip of her nose is dangerously close to his; a thought passes by him, quick and sharp, Maki's soft hands holding his face. She might as well be a deity of benevolence, for she does when she brushes the hair out of his face. The palms of her hands are smooth, almost sweet-scented, cupping his cheeks. Warmth seeps into him, and Yuta allows himself to relax and close his eyes; slowly but surely, he knows Maki is leaning closer.
He's not sure who moved first.
One second, the gentleness of her touch embraces him, and before he fully registers it– Maki's lips brush against his. That flutter in his heart blossoms as their mouths part, Maki's flames enveloping him. He never imagined her lips would be so soft- so sweet and perfect. He wraps his arms around her, his thumbs drawing small circles on her back, and feels her hands dig into his scalp to keep caressing his hair. He dips his head further, leaving butterfly kisses on her bottom lip. She sighs, and Yuta can't help but melt into her.
Nothing matters.
The Earth might have stopped spinning. The moon could have disappeared along with the stars, but none of that would matter as long as Maki kept kissing him. Nothing matters except her. His heart is beating out of his chest, and he feels tension creeping up his spine; he thinks he might cry if his poor heart continues its frenzy. His hands begin to shake a little, clutching her shirt between his fingers.
As quickly as their fleeting affections began, Yuta felt his mind and body were bound to ruin it. A force, unsure but undeniable, comes in between them. He tries to calm down; there are no cars here, no curses out to get them. No unprecedented accident waiting to drift them apart but curse them to follow each other endlessly. Then what is it? What is ripping away that new life, that new forever?
He breaks away. Shaking his head and straightening his eyes to look at hers. "I'm sorry, we should-" Fuck . How can he phrase this for her? Maki is staring at him ardently, looking for his response. Her stillness makes him feel like the Earth really did stop spinning.
Part of him wants to ask her the same question he heard from Rika: will we be together forever? But the other side of him, void of his newfound admiration for his classmate, knows that isn't right. She might be a flame, but she comes second. "Sorry, it's not right. I don't want to; I mean, I'm already–" he stammers. This time, he looks her straight in the eye despite rambling without any sense.
"No, you're right," she interjects. "This was a mistake. I'm sorry, too." Her skin is still soft when she breaks away. She stands up slowly, letting go of his face. He feels his body grow cold from the separation.
He gazes at her, thinking about which side of him has more control, the one that only sees Rika or the one that just pretended she wasn't even there. She approaches the door, fixing herself, "Goodnight, Yuta." Her voice still holds endearment, even when they part, making the cut deeper. His heart rattles in his chest, and he feels like the points of his ribs are stabbing into it.
The memory is too fresh. Before doesn't last forever, and Yuta remembers the moment right after the car collided with Rika's tiny body, right after she asked her question and crossed the street. No, don't go. No, don't die , is all he can hear as he recalls his first love. But even then, Rika really stayed after everything. No matter who or what got in between them, she stayed just like they had promised each other. Forever, right? Her little voice becomes the flame he saw in Maki's eyes. Forever, right? You said forever, Yuta?
He slumps down on his bed and sighs. He doesn't know. All his devotion, with an unknown target. That promise rings in his ears; that little forever haunts him, a reminder of his past vows and the new ones he is too afraid to make.