Archive of Our Own ^beta

It’s a summer afternoon, the blazing sun fortunately covered by passing clouds overhead providing shade for the denizens underneath. The temporary shadow covers the length of Jujutsu High’s training field. Two teens take a fleeting break in the shade, their training weapons tossed aside and replaced with water bottles. They sit across each other and breathe in heavy lungfuls of air. At least, one of them does. The other much less exerted participant simply drinks away her beverage and lets the sounds of summer sink in. She regards her training partner with sharp, if reserved curiosity. 

Yuta Okkotsu has only been her classmate for several months, and Maki has plenty of thoughts about him. Most of them are ones of annoyance. Ever since their first mission together, he had clung to her and followed her around like a duckling imprinted on its mother. It certainly would’ve worn on her more if his disposition and personality were terrible. But he was inoffensive at worst if she had to grade him. And though initially, he was more cowardly and weak, she could at least respect his genuine efforts in trying to better himself even if he was still stumbling through most of this jujutsu sorcery world he was thrown into. 

It’s another day of weapons training with him, Maki being the only qualified one among their group to teach him. In this respect, it wasn’t so bad having him around. She didn’t get much opportunity to train like this before his arrival, so it’s simply a mutually beneficial partnership no matter what that idiot Panda tries to say otherwise. 

Still, even with his lack of skill, Maki knew when someone wasn’t performing at their best if the dazed look on his face and the way he blankly stared out into the field was any hint.

“Hey,” she calls out curtly. “What’s your problem?”

“Huh?” His head shakes like he’s been snapped out of a stupor. He frowns worriedly when he meets her gaze. “Um… me? I’m fine.”

“You’ve been staring at the butterflies for the past five minutes,” Maki says while jerking a thumb towards the colorful insects fluttering around in the direction he’s been looking out to. “You’ve been out of it since we started.”

“Have I?”

“Yeah. I’m kicking your ass too easily today.”

“Uh… you always beat me up too easily. Heh…”

He laughs self-deprecatingly, but she’s not in the mood. Maki rolls her eyes.

“If you wanted to waste my time today, you could have let me know beforehand,” she says, and he puts his hands up quickly in defense.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he stammers in his all too familiar anxious way. He rubs the back of his neck with resignation. “I just… I guess I’ve had some things on my mind recently. Sorry.”

He leans back on his hands and his eyes go upward at the sky with a sigh. Maki rests her chin on her hand.

It’s not like she cared, but if she was going to get anything out of this, she needed him to be somewhat competent. 

The distant and pensive expression on his face certainly had no bearing on her. Not at all.

She lets out a small sigh of her own.

“What’s on your mind?” she reluctantly asks.

He startles at her question as if he’s genuinely surprised she’s asking, but when he sees she’s being genuine, he leans back again and hums. 

“I talked to the principal the other day,” he starts. “He asked me what I wanted from coming to Jujutsu High.”

“That spiel, huh?” 

“He asked you, too?”

She nods. Maki knows that she and the rest of her classmates were asked the same thing when they first arrived. It must have been the principal’s way of testing them.

“You didn’t have an answer?”

“I did, at first. I told him I wanted to break Rika’s curse. He didn’t seem satisfied with that.”

“Did one of his dolls punch you?”

“Hm? What? We talked over tea.”

“Oh. Nevermind.”

There’s a lull in their conversation. Maki studies Yuta’s face, his mouth and brow scrunched up in thought.

“He told me that no jujutsu sorcerer dies without regrets,” Yuta says somberly. “I’ve just been thinking about that. Sorry for being distracted.”

Maki’s heard it from the principal before. But unlike Yuta, Maki knew from the beginning what she was getting into. She forgets sometimes that Yuta is a stranger to all of this.

“So what about that has you all zoned out?”

“Well…” He sits forward but catches himself from speaking further. His eyes shift nervously, and he sinks into himself like what he’ll say might be a burden. 

“Say whatever you want,” she tells him. “I don’t care.”

Maybe her bluntness is a good thing since he seems to chuckle at it. A soft, forlorn smile takes his face and he looks off.

“Well… I never really thought much about death before. Not in this way, at least,” he begins. “Honestly, for a while, I thought if I died, it would be a good thing. I never thought about the regrets I’d have in those moments.”

There’s a sincerity to what he says that lets Maki know that he’s serious, that he’s not playing it up for pity or reassurance. With those dark circles under his eyes and the defeated smile on his face, he looks all too small in a way he hasn’t before. Maki doesn’t like it. She doesn’t think it looks right. 

“Did you find an answer, then?” she says quietly. 

“I did. I already had one. I told him the same thing I told you when you asked me.” His expression brightens slightly. “If I’m going to be in Jujutsu High, I want to find the confidence to live and believe it’s okay to keep on living. I want to be with people. I want to be relied on.”

Her mind flashes back to their very first mission together. It slipped her mind that they’ve had a similar conversation before. His vulnerability feels a bit more personal and tangible when she’s not in a curse’s stomach she supposes.

“And you’re still fine with that?” she says with a soft smirk. “No regrets, there?”

He hums again in thought.

“If I could live a life where somebody, even just one person, felt like they needed me just once, I think I’d be okay with that,” Yuta rambles. “Maybe it would mean my life meant something. Maybe it would mean I spent it right. I don’t think I’d regret that.” 

It’s his truth, even if it sounds quite sad the way he says it. Maki can’t begrudge him for that. 

“When I free Rika, I’ll go back to being normal,” he continues. “After that, I’ll try to live a life where I can reach those goals. Though they sound a little selfish when I word them like that, huh?”

Her brow raises.

“‘Back to normal?’”

He nods.

“Mhm. Rika is the source of my powers, after all. When she’s freed, I’ll probably have to leave Jujutsu High. I guess you’ll finally be rid of me once that time comes. Heh.”

She doesn’t share in his laughter despite him not noticing. 

Maki didn’t consider that possibility or that there would actually be a day when Yuta’s time with them ends. She doesn’t know why that nags at her, but she quickly puts those feelings aside. She’s more glad to see his mood is up again. 

“Guess I’m stuck with you until then,” she settles on.

“I guess so. But I hope that’s okay for now. Doing this training makes me feel cool like you.” 

She wonders if it’s good or bad timing that the clouds overhead finally part and give way to the sunshine, the rays of light covering Yuta and the full, earnest grin he gives her. 

She looks away. It’s too bright. The sun’s rays, of course.

Maki grabs her training weapon and gives him a tap before standing up.

“If you want to feel cool, stop staring at butterflies and give me a good fight.”

“I wasn’t staring that much,” he says. “And if I was, it’s fine. They’re pretty to look at.”

He eagerly pops up, weapon in hand, and gets into stance. His determined smile coaxes a real smirk out of her. She much preferred this look on his face.

Maki didn’t know how much she’d have left with Yuta Okkotsu, but it was fine. There’s always next time. When this comes to an end, whenever it may be, perhaps she’ll tell him he wasn’t such bad company. 

∮∮∮

Midnight is fast approaching and with it, the new year. The four of them had made preparations and decided to spend it together in Toge’s room. They ate their food, drank their beverages, and decorated appropriately. 

All that was left was to greet the midnight hour together.

“How do you throw a New Year’s party in your own room and fall asleep before midnight?” Maki grumbles.

“I think they got too into celebrating and wore themselves out,” Yuta defends them. 

Yuta and Maki look over unimpressed at Toge sprawled out over Panda, the both of them snoring peacefully on the floor. The gaudy “2018” shaped glasses fitted on their faces certainly didn’t match their sleeping bodies. Maki snaps a quick picture with her phone, and Yuta laughs quietly.

“We have to wake them up, right?”

“I don’t know. They’re a lot more tolerable like this.”

Yuta looks at her with pity in his eyes that she does not return, and he shakes his head with a small smile.

The both of them decide to sit against the window in Toge’s room and await midnight. Maki doesn’t mind that the night is coming to an anticlimactic end. She’d rather this than the chaotic night a week ago on Christmas Eve. With only minutes left in the year, she peeks a glance at Yuta across from her. 

His head leans against the window, and he stares above at the dark sky almost wistfully. His face looked a tad more hardened, his features taking on more reserved expressions. He didn’t have these before that Christmas Eve night.

Maki doesn’t remember much of that night after she was taken out. One moment, it felt like she was about to die an unceremonious end, unaccomplished and unwanted. Next, she was conscious and watching Yuta break Rika free of her curse. 

They said he had healed her grievous injuries. That’s two times he’s saved her life without seeing how.

He had been shaken up by the events of that night. Everyone was to an extent. Even their unserious teacher had taken time for himself. 

It was hard to broach the subject, though. And Yuta kept appearances up fine enough even if she could tell the corners of his smile didn’t reach his eyes the way it used to. But Maki wasn’t exactly one to ask about feelings. She didn’t know the right way to approach delicate topics at hand the way she felt was warranted.

Instead, she waits for midnight like he is and talks candidly.

“So, you don’t have to leave Jujutsu High, huh,” she says without rhyme or reason.

He doesn’t look away from whatever spot he’s staring at in the sky.

“I guess so,” he says simply. “I thought with Rika gone, I’d lose my cursed energy, but it looks like she left some things behind.”

“Yeah, an abundance of cursed energy that sorcerers haven’t seen in centuries. Hell of a Christmas gift.”

He chuckles somberly. 

“I suppose you can call it a gift,” he mumbles. 

The silence settles back in, and Maki finds her lack of small talk skills to be a hindrance more than it has ever been before. Luckily, Yuta seems to pick up for her.

“Any plans for next year?” he asks absentmindedly.

“‘Plans?’”

“Yeah. Or goals. Things like that.”

She’s already told him in the classroom.

“Same as before,” she says. “I’ll get better. I’ll become a Grade 1. And I’ll go back to the Zen’in clan and show them how to really lead.”

He chuckles again, warmer this time.

“I believe in you,” he whispers. “I know you can do it.”

His genuine belief in her is evident in his whispery voice. It’s still new to her, the feeling of receiving someone’s sincere faith. It threatens to spur an impulsive, snarky reaction out of her. Instead, she bites it back down with the heat pooling in her face, and throws his question back at him.

“What about you? Any plans for next year now that you’re staying?”

Maki thinks he’ll give her something simple or benign, something to keep the conversation moving at the bare minimum it needs to. Instead, she watches him pull his legs close to his chest and his face fall into a solemn, serious thing. He still hasn’t stopped looking away.

“…I’ll get stronger,” he says in a low, emotional voice. “Strong enough to save everyone. Strong enough to protect everyone. So you won’t ever get hurt again. I swear on it.”

She inhales ever so slightly at his answer and the revelation it provides her. 

Maki wants to tell him something. That it wasn’t his fault, that they didn’t begrudge him or who he was at all. But she can’t find the words like she’s grasping at something that she doesn’t know exists to her yet. 

The booming sounds in the distance don’t provide help. Maki looks out and sees the start of a volley of fireworks that reaches even them in their secluded campus.

The new year was here. 

Maki looks back at Yuta. The multicolored flashes coloring his face and brightening his eyes don’t mesh with the melancholic expression he watches them with.

“Hey.”

She calls out to him almost instinctively. It’s the first time he looks away from the window. He regards her fully with that subdued gaze. 

They stare at each other. Maki struggles to find the correct balance of what she wants to say and what she should say. 

“…Happy New Year, Yuta. I’ll be counting on you.”

For whatever reason, it’s difficult to get the words out, but she manages. Yuta seems a bit confused, but the tension in him seems to flow out, and his dour expression blooms into something much more befitting him.

“Happy New Year, Maki. I’ll be in your care.”

It’s good, she thinks to herself, that he can still smile like that. 

That night had changed him, but it was still him.

If only she could find those unknown words she wants to say, but Toge and Panda suddenly squishing them against the window and angrily calling them out for not waking them up takes the rest of her thoughts away. She can’t be too upset though. They’re alive. She’ll have time to find those words someday.

∮∮∮

The early morning sun barely begins its rise. The light brightens the blue sky and provides a nice backdrop for their farewell. 

Maki, Toge, Panda, and even Megumi are together at one of the main roads leading out of Jujutsu High’s grounds. Ichiji is inside a car patiently waiting to whisk away its passengers.

“Okay!” A loud, obnoxious call pierces the air. Satoru Gojo stands before them with his arms spread wide. “Today is the day you bid farewell to your wonderful classmate Yuta Okkotsu on his trip far, far away!” Their teacher shoves his arms out to Yuta beside him like he’s presenting him to them. “Let your goodbyes be tearful and emotional! You’ll never know when you’ll see him again!”

Yuta laughs awkwardly along, much more accepting of Gojo’s antics than they are. 

“Can you get out of the way so they can say goodbye?” Maki asks unamusedly.

“How rude! You can say goodbye to me too, you know,” and with the way Gojo cups an ear to his finger and waits, it seems he wants it more than Yuta does.

“Why say goodbye to you?” Panda says. “You’re gonna be back, anyway.”

“Salmon.”

“You’re taking me on a mission later today,” Megumi notes.

“You’re all no fun,” Gojo says, hanging his head, though he snaps back up just as quickly with a playful smile on his face and walks towards the car. “I’ll get out of your hair, then. Don’t take too long with him, okay?”

Gojo’s slamming shut of the car door is a signal enough for their friends to get on with their farewells. 

Maki watches Panda and Toge forcefully slam themselves around Yuta, their mock sobs and the way they cling to him eliciting rounds of laughter from him. Panda and Toge jokingly tell him some cliche platitudes like to always eat his vegetables and sleep on time as they jostle him back and forth. Megumi finds a spot to pat him on the back. 

There’s a joy on Yuta’s face that glows perfectly alongside the rising sun in the background, an unrestrained gratitude let loose in their antics.

It’s a heartwarming sight. Maki can’t deny it.

“You’ll see him again, you know,” Maki calls out to her friends through their fake crying. “Let the man breathe.”

“Aww, don’t be shy Maki,” Panda replies. “You can have your turn, too.”

She clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes, but she does finally step up to join them. Maki doesn’t ask for the other three to step away when she does, nor does she ask for Panda to gently push her closer to Yuta (and she’ll kill him for that later), but that’s how things ended up. She stands before him, the two of them in their own little bubble now.

“You packed that toothbrush I got you?” she asks nonchalantly.

“Mhm,” he nods eagerly. “I used it last night. It works well.”

“Good. The batteries last a long time, too,” she says proudly. 

There’s a small pause as she tries to figure out what else she wants to tell him.

“I guess you don’t have to watch over me for once, huh?” he says jokingly.

“Seems like it,” she says with a tiny smile knowing that she hasn’t had to for months now. “I’ll admit, I’m gonna have to get used to not hearing your squeaky voice ask for me every day.”

“I’ll call, then” he blurts out. For some reason, he seems more surprised than she does at him saying that.

“If you say so,” Maki says knowing there’s a six-hour time difference, but he shakes his head.

“I will. I’m serious.”

His earnest tone and eyes make her think he means it. She nods her head slowly.

“Part of this trip is training, by the way,” she continues. “So you’re carrying what I taught you over there. Don’t embarrass me.”

“That won’t be happening.”

“Oh? Someone’s confident.”

“How can I not be? You taught me, after all.”

She scoffs the way she usually does when it comes to him. A playful, amused one she started using when Yuta found the backbone to banter with her. 

He’s grown a lot since she’d met him, his confidence and demeanor nothing like that skittish boy she met nearly a year ago. Their relationship changed as he did, too. He seemed to enjoy talking with her, going back and forth with her, and bearing the brunt of her sharp tongue. Maki can’t say she didn’t find it entertaining. She couldn’t say she didn’t enjoy it. 

He still clung to her side it felt like, though not out of some sense of survival, but because that just seemed like where he wanted to be the most. She can’t say she hated that, either.

“Maki?”

He tilts his head, and she realizes she’s been staring, reminiscing too much. She already prepared herself for his departure, but seeing him off now lets her know that a simple goodbye and a handshake isn’t as easy as she planned it to be. It dawns on her that there’s not a simple enough phrase or enough words to convey whatever it is she wants to convey to him and that she doesn’t have the time to figure it out.

So even though she has two idiots staring keenly at her back, even though it’s not her style and not what she should be doing, Maki slips an arm around him, a chaste hug from the side.

Even if it’s just for a second, she can feel his hug back, too.

When she separates, she lightly shoves him away and towards the car and steps backward to join the rest of her friends.

“Don’t do anything stupid like dying, yeah?” she tells him.

Yuta seems to huff a small, satisfied laugh.

“I don’t plan on it,” he tells her.

Even though she’s standing alongside the others, his eyes seem uniquely situated on only her. His mouth fidgeted between opening and closing. If she didn’t know any better, it seemed like he still had something to say to her. 

“Yutaaaaaa!” Gojo’s voice calls out from the window. “We’re gonna be laaaaaate!”

Whatever connection they had comes to an abrupt end. She watches him breathe deeply like he knows his next act is the last. He faces them all head-on.

“Thank you for everything, everyone,” he says with a small bow. “I’ll be back soon. Stay safe.”

“Obviously.”

“Don’t worry about us, Yuta!”

“Tuna mayo!”

“We’ll be fine, Okkotsu-senpai.”

It’s enough for him. He waves one last time before they watch him amble towards the vehicle. As he opens the door, he regards each of them like he’s committing their faces to memory. His gaze falls on her, and it stays. He smiles and raises his hand. She gives him the same gesture, and that’s the last she sees of him before he disappears.

They don’t know if he’s watching, but they wave anyway as the car accelerates into the distance and gets smaller and smaller.

That’s that. 

Maki rolls her neck, stretches her arms, and throws her elbows back into the panda and the boy getting a bit too teasingly close behind her.

“Let’s go,” she tells them. “We got our own things to do today.”

They let Toge and Panda recover before they make their moves. Their group begins trekking back, aimless conversation filling the still, morning air.

Subconsciously or not, she lets her steps slow a bit until the others gain a bit of separation from her. 

Maki looks back out at the main road and finds the car still visible, a black dot getting increasingly smaller on the horizon.

She’ll see him again. But something about his departure leaves just the smallest, hollow feeling within her. Maybe she knows what it is, but it’s not like she could do anything about it now. Maybe whenever he comes back, she can parse it out with him. 

They’ll have the time.

Their ride drives along the mountain path further and further away from Jujutsu High. Ichiji drives diligently in front while his teacher lounges to his left. The dull buzz of the wheels on the road and the engine humming starts to settle in. 

Even though they’ve already said their goodbyes, Yuta shifts around in his seat and looks back. 

He sees them waving, their figures growing smaller and smaller with every passing second. He knows they can’t see him, but he waves back before turning back around. Yuta can’t help the wistful smile forming on his face.

So much had happened in under a year, and he still can’t quite wrap his head around it. The curse that had haunted him had been freed, and now he lives a life of his own accord, something he never thought would be possible. That would have been enough on its own, but the faces of his wonderful friends flash clearly on his mind. He believed himself cursed until death, but now, he can only think of himself as blessed. And it's those blessings that have him feeling bittersweet at the moment.

He had accepted Gojo-sensei’s mission request with little hesitation, of course. He had faith in the man who saved his life and was prepared to do whatever was asked of him. But still, Yuta wasn’t so eager to separate from his dear friends, even if that’s what the mission entailed. He thought of each of them, and a wave of warmth filled his chest.

He thought of Panda and his jokes and humor, and the steadying and stabilizing presence he provided them. He thought of Inumaki and the numerous activities and hobbies he’d share with Yuta that let him relax and enjoy the little moments of life he never had before. He’d miss the antics Inumaki and Panda would get up to just get a laugh out of him and each other. 

He thought of Maki, and his chest bloomed with a different kind of warmth, one that had him tucking in his chin like he was afraid someone could see it. It’s a wonder she and him had gotten so close over the past few months, but Yuta’s confident there’s not many people he’d trust over her. She had inspired him and given him so much that he wished he could tell her what that meant to him. He had tried but couldn’t find the words.

There’s a pang in his heart that matches his smile. It’s settling in that he won’t see them for quite some time. He won’t get to see her.

“Here.”

He turns to his teacher who offers him a handkerchief. Yuta only now feels the tears that had pooled at the corners of his eyes.

“Thank you,” he whispers while wiping them away. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Gojo places his hands behind his head and crosses one leg over the other. “You’ll miss them, right?”

Yuta nods.

“And there’s nothing wrong with that. Making connections that bring you to tears. That’s what being young is for.” A nostalgic expression takes his teacher’s face. “So cry all you want. Let the snot dribble down your nose. Pee your pants a little if you have to. It’s fine. And when you see them next time, you can do it all over again.”

Yuta laughs softly at his teacher’s phrasing, but he finds comfort in it.

He’ll see them again. He’ll see her again. Whenever that time comes, he’ll let them know just how much they mean to him. 

∮∮∮

He races through the hallways of Jujutsu High until he reaches the medical wing. He pays no mind to the familiar rooms and architecture he missed in his time away, nor to the chairs and tables he bumps into. In his rush, the only things accompanying him are the sword on his back, his frantic breathing, and his pounding heartbeat in his ears.

He had flown over the first chance he could when the Shibuya reports came trickling in, his plane making it late November 1st. Nitta had met him on one good leg when he touched down, and she said the higher-ups requested his presence immediately. He told her to relay the message that he did not care and to take him to Tokyo Jujutsu High. He wasn’t privy to most of the details on Halloween night, but he saw enough.

Satoru Gojo had been sealed.

One Tokyo student had been declared missing and dangerous.

One Tokyo student had been detained.

Four others were on the casualty report.

The medical wing looks and feels as sterile as ever, the sudden white backdrop feeling more like a full-fledged hospital than anything else you’d see on the campus. His eyes darted toward the many rooms and hallways looking for any signs of life. 

“Oi. Okkotsu.” 

He turns to the sound of Shoko Ieiri lowering a face mask and stepping to greet him. Her eyes look substantially more weary than his.

“Ieiri,” he barely gets out through his panting. “Is everyone…”

Yuta is afraid to finish. Shoko picks up well enough.

“Fushiguro is recovering in his own dorm room,” she starts. “He took some brutal hits, but he got out the best. Can’t say the same for the first-year girl. We’re betting on miracles with her at this point.”

That’s two of the casualties, and Yuta’s chest twists and aches terribly upon hearing it. He can’t help his eyes boring into her begging her to continue.

“Inumaki is in the room over there,” Shoko points, and he doesn’t even stay to hear if she has more to say before he makes his way there and bursts through. 

His eyes widen and his breathing quickens when he finds his friend lying in a bed, wraps covering his torso and stemming the bleeding at the stump where his left arm once was. 

“Inumaki…”

The cursed-speech user opens his eyes with a grimace. Surprise and relief overtakes the pain on his face.

“Yuta…?”

Hearing his name from Inumaki’s mouth in a situation like this spurs forth awful memories. He wants to rush over and do something, anything when Shoko enters the room behind him.

“He’ll be okay,” she tells him. “He was caught in Sukuna’s domain, but only barely. He’ll be without an arm, but he’s okay.”

“‘Okay?’” Yuta feels his hands clenched into fists and his shoulders tremble. “How can you say any of this is ‘okay—’”

“Tuna tuna.”

The worn, gravelly voice takes Yuta’s attention. When he turns to Inumaki, the boy waves him down and gives him a thumbs up. It’s enough assurance for Yuta to calm ever so slightly when it feels like the world is crumbling down.

“Where’s Panda?” Yuta asks as he tries to take note of who’s left of the reports.

“He’s been detained and held somewhere until further notice,” Shoko says. 

“What? Why?”

“It hasn’t been announced yet, but Principal Yaga has been sentenced. His cursed corpses have been taken under custody, as well. That includes Panda.” The flash of rage on his face urges Shoko to raise a hand to pacify him. “Don’t worry. Someone we know will take care of Panda. I can’t say much, but trust me on this, okay?”

His face scrunches up and he grits his teeth. He doesn’t understand what’s happening to all his friends. He can't understand why it’s happening to them. 

He mentally checks off the ones who fit the reports from earlier. 

Yuta has an inkling of who the missing Tokyo student is. He knows Panda was the one detained. He knows three of the four students that were on the casualties list.

There’s only one left.

“…Where’s Maki?”

When he looks at Shoko, she hesitates to answer. When he turns to Toge, his mouth quivers and he turns away instead of meeting his gaze.

Yuta feels his heart drop and his blood run cold.

“…Where is she?” he asks again because she has to be somewhere. He can’t fathom anything else.

“…She’s in the room down the hall,” Shoko finally says. “You should give her some time. It’s best if you don’t see her right now— Okkotsu, wait—”

Yuta pushes past her. He looks left then looks right and walks when he sees a door at the end slightly ajar. 

His heart is beating so loudly he can feel it in his head, the vibrations causing it to ache. His breathing grows quicker and quicker with every step. He can’t hear anything else. Not the sounds of his steps or Shoko calling for him. His shaking hand pushes the door to the room aside.

It’s dimly lit and wider than Inumaki’s room on account of all the machinery inside. There’s a constant beating from the monitor placed next to the bed. 

The body wrapped in gauze from head to waist is enough to make him want to retch.

Yuta slowly steps closer. The beeping feels like it gets louder with every step until it’s the only thing filling his ears when he reaches the bedside.

The body is wrapped completely, the bandages leaving only openings for the nose and mouth, but it matters little. 

Yuta knows it’s her.

It doesn’t make sense. He can’t accept it. He knows Maki. He knows the kind of person she is. He knows that she’s incredible, incapable of being stopped, invincible. That’s the type of person she is. He knows she’s strong and unstoppable, and nobody works as hard and as much as her, and despite all that, she gives her time for someone like him, and he knows she deserves more than almost anybody else so it doesn’t make sense that she’s—

“Okkotsu.” 

He feels a hand on his shoulder, his head snapping to Shoko with wide and horrified eyes.

“Breathe.”

It’s only then that he notices his sharp, ragged, shallow breaths, the way his chest and his shoulders heave with each and every one. 

“She’s going to be okay,” Shoko enunciates clearly and slowly. “It’s bad now. She needs time to recover. But she’ll live. She’ll be okay. So calm down.”

When she nods, he follows. He breathes in deeply and exhales, a shuddering lungful of air that clears the miasma threatening to overtake him. 

Yuta looks down at Maki again, his heart threatening to split when he hears a whimper of pain from her unconscious form. His hand instinctively raises, positive cursed energy ready to alleviate her suffering, when Shoko pulls it back down.

“Save it,” she tells him. “That’s my job. We’re going to need you for other things.”

His fist is balled up at the side, and his nails dig into his palm.

He should’ve been here. This shouldn’t have happened. What was the point of getting stronger if he wasn’t even here to do anything with it?

He should be here now. He can’t leave.

But Shoko is right. 

Yuta wipes the tears at the corner of his eyes with the back of his hand.

“The other first-year that Gojo-sensei talked about, the vessel. Yuji Itadori. He’s missing, isn’t he?”

Shoko nods. Yuta frowns.

“Where is he?”

“We don’t know,” she says while throwing up her hands. “If we did, he wouldn’t be missing.”

“I’ll find him, then. I’m going to the higher-ups.”

He’s ready to leave when Shoko holds him back. 

“Hey. I know Sukuna wreaked all this havoc, and Itadori is the one with Sukuna inside him, but—”

“I know,” he quickly reassures her. “It’s not Itadori’s fault. But the higher-ups probably plan on reinstating his execution, anyway. Someone needs to get to him before they do.”

“So why bother with the conservative old bags?”

“I… might have a plan,” and that’s all he has to say for her to shrug her shoulders in acceptance.

His eyes drift over to Maki, and he feels a wave of emotions hit him all over again. 

“Will you take care of them?” he asks with a whisper.

“Of course. Like I said, that’s my job.”

He nods, and he begins his walk out of the room using every ounce of effort not to turn back around. 

“I’ll buy us some more time,” he says aloud, and he hopes it was more than himself and Shoko who hears it.

∮∮∮

Yuta’s grown to appreciate the early morning in Jujutsu High. The little time he gives himself here before he throws himself back into the chaos of the rest of Japan is the only peace and quiet he’s known the last week. He walks the grounds with a plastic bag filled with goodies jostling on his side.

It’s barely been a week since Halloween and it’s still pandaemonium as a result of the jujutsu terrorism that took place. Yuta hasn’t even begun to think of the greater implications for society. His thoughts were spread too thin between hunting cursed spirits for the higher-ups and looking for Sukuna’s vessel. 

He does allow himself some time to return to Jujutsu High to restock and replenish himself, physically and mentally. He has people to look after, as well.

Yuta’s route to the medical wing is much more familiar and relaxed than when we first came here. Shoko gives him a wordless wave when he arrives and returns to checking away on whatever paperwork she’s been given, the poor woman looking as overworked as ever. Inumaki’s room is closed and presumably empty since the boy had been discharged yesterday much to Yuta’s relief. He makes his way down the hall and carefully pushes the door to the room open.

It’s quiet in her room, and he appreciates it. Maki rests on her bed, and he tiptoes carefully even though she hasn’t woken up any time he’s been here. Most of the machinery that had been hooked up to her had been used effectively and stowed away over the course of the past couple of days. Even her bandages had been removed yesterday morning bar one wrapped around her right eye. It’s just her sleeping peacefully, and he’s fine with that.

He walks past the chair placed beside her bed, his place of rest, and moves to the window. He pushes aside the curtains and opens it slightly to let some air and morning light in, something he started doing after gaining Shoko’s approval. When his work is done, he takes his bag of snacks and drinks and moves to place them on the nightstand beside her bed with the rest of the little treats he’s accrued in the abandoned city districts. 

He’s surprised to see the collection of food he’s been building on the stand has been reduced to empty wrappers and cans.

“You’re back.”

He freezes.

It’s quiet and scratchy, but it’s a voice. Her voice.

“Maki!”

He can’t help his heart from soaring when he sees Maki looking at him with her unwrapped eye. 

“Yo—”

“Are you okay? Are you comfortable? Do you need anything? Food, water? Do you need me to get Ieiri—”

“I need you to tone down the volume,” she says weakly, and he shuts up and nods.

He bounces in place unsure of what to do, but he does eventually pull up his chair closer beside her and sits. 

His eyes squeeze shut for just a moment. It’s as if an unknown tension that had been tightly coiled around him loosens and slips off him carrying with it an untold amount of stress, fear, and anxiety. 

Maki was alive and awake. That’s all he needed to focus on for now.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything?” he says in a much tolerable tone for her.

“‘m fine,” she says while rubbing her eye clean of dirt. “I woke up for the first time last night, actually.”

“You did?” he says with a frown. Yuta works for most of the day and doesn’t return until morning. He’s slightly upset that he missed it.

“Mhm. Shoko filled me in and got me situated. Didn’t tell me who was leaving snacks for me, though. Glad I got that sorted.”

She’s peeking at the bag on his lap, and he laughs softly. 

“Some more chocolate bars,” he says while pulling one out, opening it, and handing it to her. She accepts and starts nibbling on it. 

He rests his chin on his hand and watches. He doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t feel a need to. Just seeing her active and moving makes him feel elated.

“When’d you get back?” she asks when she finishes. He takes the wrapper from her and tosses it in the bin.

“The night after Halloween,” he answers. “I flew over the moment reports started flooding in.”

“Sorry to cut your trip short. I know you were living it up over there.”

“I was practically finished with my mission there,” he says while shaking his head. “Saved me a couple weeks.”

“Happy to help,” she says dryly, her deadpan banter bringing a familiar comfort that he’s sorely missed. “I hear I’m not the only one who got messed up, huh?”

His mouth thins. He sighs dejectedly.

“Inumaki lost an arm, but he says he’s okay despite that.”

There’s the tiniest little inhale, as close a thing to a gasp you’ll hear from her.

“…He fights with his voice. I doubt he’s stressing that much,” Maki says. “All he does is laze about in his off time, anyway. He can manage.” 

“Panda’s been taken away somewhere, but Kusakabe keeps telling us not to worry. I can’t help but think about him and the principal.”

“I don’t even know if you can kill Panda. I hope the principal doesn’t get caught up in anything, though.”

Her nonchalant attitude doesn’t hide the hint of worry in her tone, but Yuta knows that this is just her trying her best to cope and that she worries just as much as he does in her own way.

“Fushiguro is already out in the field. Also…”

“Yeah. The next clan head. Wish I was there to see the will reading.”

Yuta chuckles.

“Any update on Nobara?”

“The first-year girl?” Yuta shakes his head sadly. “Not much… and it doesn’t look good. Ieiri tells me it’s a miracle she’s still breathing.”

Maki slowly nods her head at the news as she lets it roll inside her head trying to accept it. 

“I wanted you to meet her,” Maki says.

“Is she nice?”

“With me? Yeah. With you? Oh, I wish I could see it.” 

Yuta’s face drops.

“Maki…—”

“She’ll pull through. She’s too stubborn to die.” She says it like it’s a simple fact of life. “So you better get ready for when she wakes up.”

Yuta knows she means it, that she’s not lying to him or herself and her faith in her friend is honest and true. Even after everything, Maki had an unshakeable belief in herself and those she believed in. He wishes, like always, that he could be as strong as she is one day. He smiles at her fully.

Perhaps he’s regarding her too intensely, staring at her too fondly, but Maki uncharacteristically wilts under his gaze. He’s surprised when she turns away. The atmosphere shifts for a moment.

“Maki?”

“…Can’t believe you can still look at me like that,” he hears her whisper.

He doesn’t understand until he sees her hands slowly reach for her arms like she’s trying to cover them and press her cheek further into her pillow like she’s trying to hide it.

It only now dawns on him that her scars are new and permanent, something that she’ll carry with her for the rest of her life. It made no difference to him, but it was unfair, selfish even, to think she would take to it as readily. There’s a dull, painful feeling twisting within his chest.

“I’m just looking at you, Maki,” he says with an aching, honest heart. “It’s just you. That’s all it is.”

She hears him, but she doesn’t move. She lays still while the birds start their morning calls and fills the silence for them.

Yuta’s hands ball up. He can’t help his head from dropping with anger and sadness. It’s not her fault, and he hates that she feels this way if only just a little bit. He wishes desperately he could go back somehow so he would have never left. 

He could have protected them. His teacher. His friends. Her. If he could have saved them a sliver of pain in exchange for his own well-being, he would have given up everything.

“Maki… I’m sor—”

“That better not be an apology coming out of your lips.”

He looks up to find her staring back, a smirk on her face.

“I—”

“You were a continent away, Yuta. It is what it is. Besides…” She raises an arm above her and examines it, turning it this way and that. “It’s going to take a lot more than this to ruin me. So don’t sweat it.”

Her smirk morphs into an easygoing smile, and Yuta can’t help but huff a laugh, his fears and regrets washing away and replaced by the warmness her expression provides him.

They talk for a time like nothing has changed, like nothing has happened between when he left and when he returned. 

She asks him where their souvenirs are, and he regretfully informs her that he forgot to buy some on his rush home. He tells her they can all go on a trip there together sometime, and she says it’s fine as long as he pays for everything. 

Their inane conversation grants him some much needed solace. He wishes this is all it has to be, but she coughs a little, her voice still not ready for extended use, and Yuta figures he has to let her rest soon.

“Are you still looking for Yuji?” she asks.

“I am. I think I’ve narrowed down his general location.”

“The official decrees called you his ‘executioner.’ A bit too scary for someone like you.”

“Well, I won’t kill him… Permanently, at least.”

“Good. Find him and get him right, quickly. He probably isn’t feeling too good about all this.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. He’s a bit of an idiot, but he’s a good kid. A lot like someone else I know.”

Yuta chuckles and feels the heat pooling up on his face. 

His phone buzzes, but he doesn’t pull it out. He knows it’s time to get back into the fray.

When he stands, he double-checks that she’s comfortable. He adjusts her pillow (“Really?”)  and makes sure her blanket covers her feet (“Are you serious?”) despite her protests.

“I’ll get Ieiri to check over you. I’ll let Inumaki know you’re awake, too. He’s been waiting longer than me.”

“Sure, sure,” she waves him off. “You gotta go, right?”

“Yeah…”

His words say one thing, but the way his feet stay rooted in place says another. He wants to say more to her now that she’s awake. He doesn’t even have anything specific in mind. If he could just let an unfettered stream of consciousness leave his mouth, he’d do it. As long as it got across how happy he was that she was still alive.

It takes his phone buzzing in his pocket again for him to accept that he doesn’t have the time. He small sigh breaks free from him before he tears himself away from his spot.

“I’ll see you later,” is all he can think to say. He reluctantly walks to the door and grabs the handle.

“Yuta.”

He pauses and turns.

“I’m glad you're back,” she tells him quietly. 

He breathes deeply and nods, a cascading warmth rolling down his body and settling in his heart.

“I’m glad you’re back, too,” he responds.

“Stay safe.”

“Get some rest.”

She waves him goodbye, and he returns it before opening the door and finally stepping out.

Japan is in chaos, and there’s so much more left to do, but there’s a renewed vigor in his walk, and extra motivation in his fight. He’ll see her again, and he’s content for now. They have just a little more time.

∮∮∮

It’s nighttime in the first of the Tokyo colonies. Normally, Yuta would be a lot more stressed about spending the night in hostile territory, but after recent happenings, he prays that most of the storm stemming from the Culling Games has come to pass already.

Their forces are gathered in Tokyo No.1 Colony in an admittedly nice high-rise hotel. On most fronts, they accomplished what they needed to during the Culling Games, and most of them had come out the other side alive. They even gained some new allies in the process. The Angel has been secured meaning Gojo’s jailbreak is imminent. 

Despite that, it’s hard to feel triumphant when Kenjaku successfully captured Tengen and killed Yuki Tsukumo or with the catastrophic business concerning Sukuna, Yuji, and Megumi. Yuta heaves a deep sigh as he continues to anxiously walk the hallway of rooms.

One problem at a time.

He had checked on most of his friends and was relieved to find most of them okay. Panda is worse for wear, and he had some issues with Hakari bringing the man responsible along with them, but he decided to trust his upperclassman for now. He imagines Yuji is going through his own turmoil, but the young man seems as determined as ever to clean up this mess. He’s keeping a close eye on him for now.

He had spoken with everyone besides one. His feet have carried him to her room. He knocks on the door as respectfully as one could in the dead of night.

He hears some shuffling inside the room. Some light seeps through under the door, and he can see a shadow on the other side.

“Um… it’s me?”

There’s a pause. After a second, the sound of locks clicking and door knobs turning give way to the door being pulled aside. 

Maki leans against the doorway. She crosses her arms, an unamused look plastered across her face.

“You know, everyone else has gone to bed,” she says blankly. 

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Can you ever?”

“I was worrying about things.”

“Are you ever not?”

He laughs awkwardly and shrugs his shoulders in defeat. Maki rolls her eyes but lets her face soften. She beckons him inside and he follows.

“These hotel rooms are pretty nice,” Yuta says while taking note of the spacious luxury suite.

“The best part is not having to pay,” Maki adds while making a show of opening one of the customary fridges and taking an overpriced bottle of water out of it. She holds one up to offer him, but he declines. Maki nods and closes the thing while taking a seat on one edge of her bed. Yuta sits at one of the tables nearby.

There’s some tense silence in the air settling between them. Yuta assumes Maki already has an idea of why he’s here.

“You’re not hurt anywhere?” he asks to start.

“I’m fine,” she answers quickly. “Better than fine. My body’s in top shape.”

“Right…” He trails off. Yuta isn’t sure what happened to her between when she departed for the Zen’in Clan and now, but he can sense her physical prowess was unlike anything before. He couldn’t even feel an ounce of cursed energy within her anymore. 

“You should try some sumo,” she says offhandedly before he can ask anything else.

“…like, wrestling?”

“Mhm. It’s surprisingly freeing.”

“Ah… I’ll think about it.”

“Good.”

She finishes her water and crushes the bottle before tossing it aside. She sits on the bed and doesn’t look his way. Yuta figures there’s no better opportunity.

“Maki… how are you feeling?”

“Fine. I told you, I’m fine.”

“You… know what I mean.”

He hears her scoff in annoyance, a genuine irritation in it he hasn’t heard since they were first-years. She rests her chin on her hand and continues looking away, her eyes aimed at the wide window and the city beyond.

“There are a lot more pressing matters to worry about,” she mumbles.

“We’ll cross those bridges when we get there,” he says. “I just wanted to check on you.”

“And I told you I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. You don’t need to waste your time.”

“It’s not a waste.”

Her brow furrows angrily.

“If you’re trying to piss me off, too, you’re doing a great job,” she spits at him.

Yuta holds his hands up.

“Sorry,” he tells her gently. “Sorry. I mean it.” 

The atmosphere is tense again. Maki doesn’t shift from her spot. Yuta slowly rises from his seat and cautiously makes his way over to her. She watches him from the corner of her eye until he arrives at the bed where she is. He makes his intentions clear, wordlessly asking for permission. When she makes no objections, Yuta finds it enough and sits beside her. 

They’re shoulder-to-shoulder, both of them looking out of the window now. Even in the darkness outside, Yuta can see the damage and destruction wrought by the Culling Games. 

“You know, I’m technically a criminal,” Maki tells him.

“You are?”

“I don’t think you kill as many people as I do and not get on some list,” Maki says darkly.

There’s some morbid humor in her dropping the topic at hand as bluntly and unceremoniously as she did. 

“The Gojo and Kamo clans asked for the Zen’in clan’s removal from the big three, but it got put on hold,” he says candidly. “You weren’t mentioned anywhere, last I saw.”

“Lucky me, getting lost in the shuffle.” 

Her sardonic tone cuts deep. Yuta doesn’t know how to respond.

“I’m serious, by the way,” Maki says quietly. “I could be in trouble when this is all over.”

“We’ll protect you,” he tries to soothe her. 

“You never know. HQ could send someone like you after me.”

An unrestrained and deep laugh escapes his chest. He shakes his head with a ghost of a smile on his face.

“I wouldn’t worry about it, then, if that’s the case.”

“Why? Think you can take me?”

“No. I’d just choose you over them, that’s all.”

And it’s the truth. Maki has done too much for him and is too important to him to even think of considering otherwise. He certainly isn’t fighting her on behalf of a bunch of out of touch old codgers and a clan of pricks that had it coming.

“I killed a lot of people, Yuta,” she says one last time. “You’re putting a lot of faith in me.”

“Maybe,” he tells her. “But it’s you. I believe in you. I’m probably not the only one. So you probably don’t need to worry about me or the others. We’re on your side no matter what.”

He feels her exhale, an incredulous one. He chances a glance at her and sees the distant look on her face.

“You’re too naive,” she barks with little bite behind it.

“If you say so,” he says. “Besides… you probably did what you did for a reason.”

He didn’t want to force anything out of her. But he leaves the door open. 

On the faint reflection of the window’s glass, he sees the storm of emotions breaking the stoney facade on her face. Her jaw quivers for only a moment in the silence that follows. 

Yuta doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t turn her way.

An almost inaudible voice breaks the stillness.

“She told me to. So I did.”

He nods slowly to let her know she was heard. He doesn’t bring attention to the way her voice cracked slightly or how the reflection lets him know she hardened her expression again.

They sit together on her bed for some countless amounts of time. 

Yuta stays as long as she wants him too. Maki doesn’t kick him out. So they stare outside to a broken Tokyo.

“Did you know she liked vanilla?” Maki says out of the blue. 

Yuta turns to her, confused, but she keeps her steely gaze fixated ahead. He understands well enough and does the same.

“I didn’t,” he answers her. “Don’t you hate vanilla?”

“Yup. I’ve always been a chocolate person.”

“Did she like chocolate?”

“Hell no,” Maki says with force. “She hated chocolate more than I hated vanilla. It made birthdays a chore.”

Yuta laughs at her sudden reveal, and he’s happy to see a smile grace her face in response.

“I didn’t talk to her that much,” Yuta admits. “I did run into her that one time in our first year, though.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, when I went to Kyoto for the Goodwill event, remember?”

“Right, right, she bullied you while you were on the phone with me.”

“Is that what she was doing?”

“You really were a mess back then if you thought otherwise.” She shakes her head in reminiscence. “Wonder what she’d say about you now.”

“I think we would get along.”

“Fat chance, but it’s fun to dream.”

It’s lighthearted talk. He doesn’t want to let the ball stop rolling for fear of that malaise settling back in, but he simply doesn’t know enough about her or the memories they shared, and he isn’t one to pry. 

Maki’s eyes fall towards the floor.

“She said we were holding each other back,” she whispers. “When she left, she took the last of my cursed energy with her. That’s why I’m like this now. I don’t regret what I did. But if I could trade it all back for her…”

“…You’d do it?”

“Without hesitation.”

There’s a tremor in her voice again, the sound of it wrenching his heart.

“Maki…”

“I should’ve done more for her,” she says hauntedly. “Before all of this happened.”

“…I think you did the best you could,” he tells her. 

“And how would you know something like that?”

“Because it’s you,” he repeats. “Doing your best is all I’ve ever seen you do.” He thinks of her work ethic, her motivations, her strength. “I don’t want to speak out of turn… but I think she saw that, too.”

Yuta doesn’t turn his head when she feels hers drop. He lets her be when he feels her shoulders shake.

“…If you say so,” she says through choked-back sobs. 

He keeps his eyes forward. He lets her have her privacy even if he can hear her and feel her beside him. If she wiped a tear or two off her face, Yuta didn’t see it. He doesn’t see the way she trembles in grief while he rubs small circles onto her back. The only thing filling his vision is a moonswept Tokyo.

She needs time. Yuta doesn’t know if what he does is enough, but it’s the most he can give her. 

There’s a restless static in the air in Tokyo Jujutsu High. Even with all their preparation, even with all their training, the night brings no calm or peace to soothe those attempting to slumber in their rooms.

Tomorrow was December 24th, after all. The end is on the horizon.

Maki tries to roll with the punches and deal with what comes when they happen. She wasn’t one to stress hours before. It’s a waste of energy.

Unfortunately, even she can’t stop the nerves from keeping her up. It’s gotten so bad that she threw on some loungewear over her sleeping clothes so she could pace the grounds every which way aimlessly in hopes that she’ll tire herself out somehow. 

She’s not the only one up, of course. Every room she’s passed has someone pacing around, someone whispering into a phone, and sometimes even multiple people in the same place talking about whatever. Getting it all out of the way, she supposes. She had some fun telling Toge and Panda to keep it down even though they were harmlessly silent in their rooms, tossing and turning in their beds. She doesn’t know if she’ll get to do something like that again. 

Some adults are in the main lounge area still discussing things amongst themselves, and she passes by wordlessly. They give her nods of acknowledgment before they return to whispering between each other in hushed tones. 

Maki walks and walks.

She’s in one of the scarcely used teaching wings of the grounds when she bumps into someone who wants to strike up a conversation. To some, it might be the worst person to bump into. Those striking blue eyes of his always catch her off guard. She’s used to seeing him with his blindfold on.

“He’s in the first-year classroom,” Gojo-sensei tells her, all too satisfied and smug for whatever reason. She tries to stifle a groan.

“Who is?” 

“Come on, you know who,” he says in a singsong voice much too grating for this antsy night. “You’re looking for him, right?”

“I’m not looking for anyone,” she tells him bluntly. He shakes his head and clicks his tongue.

“Now, Maki, I thought I taught you that honesty is very important between sorcerers.”

“You didn’t teach me shit,” she says with a small smile.

“I taught you enough,” he quickly responds. “But when I came back, I took one look at you and realized that your great teacher had nothing left to teach you. Because your great teacher finds you very scary. Seriously, do you know how terrifying you are?”

He means it affectionately if the way he exaggeratedly rubs the top of her head means anything. It’s a chore for her to slap his hand away, that damned cursed technique of his, but he eventually relents with a satisfied grin. She rolls her eyes and sighs.

“Don’t you have a fight to get ready for?”

“I’m as ready as one can be,” he says, and she can tell he means not just as her teacher, but as the infallible Satoru Gojo. It’s the most reassuring thing she’s heard tonight.

“Good. Don’t lose. Good night.”

She walks past him and is ready to continue on her mindless trek when he calls out to her.

“Oi, Maki.”

When she turns around, there’s an earnest, nostalgic expression on him.

“I’m serious about the honesty thing,” he says. “Let your fellow sorcerers know how you really feel when you can.”

“I don’t recall lying to anyone.”

“I’m not saying you’re lying. ‘Procrastinating’ might be a better word. But don’t wait until after it’s over. Things change before you know it.” 

There’s an almost melancholic weight to his words that seeps into his smile. She knows he’s serious, and she doesn’t quite know how to feel seeing her teacher like that.

“I hear you,” is all Maki can confidently say. 

“Perfect.” Gojo waves goodbye and parts with a wink. “Don’t be too rough with him!”

It’s a shame he’s turned around already and can’t see the finger she holds up at him.

She’s left alone, still anxious, still unsure. 

Let your fellow sorcerers know how you really feel…  

Things change before you know it.

She shakes her head. Too many more important things are at stake than to dwell on such things. Even as her feet take her closer and closer to the classrooms, Maki thinks it just isn’t the time for that. 

∮∮∮

He sits alone, his arms folded over on a desk. He rests his chin on them while his leg bounces in place. He hasn’t been still in hours. 

His mind races like it has been for days now recounting each and every possible scenario and countermeasure for tomorrow. 

Gojo will win. He believes it in his heart.

But the incessant nagging at the back of his head can’t let him believe fully, won’t let him rest on his laurels.

He runs through every possible scenario once more. 

He knows what he has to do if it comes to it.

Maybe it’s because he’s thinking of such a thing that when the door to the classroom slides open rough and loud, he’s more on guard than happy when he sees her standing there. He can only look at her for a second, her hands resting in her hoodie and her eyes locking on him before he has to look away.

He can feel her gaze on him. Its weight pairs unfortunately well with the heavy atmosphere taking shape.

“Classes have been canceled for a while,” she says in a neutral voice.

“It’s easy to focus here.” 

“I’m sure it is.”

There are sounds of her stepping inside and closing the door behind her. He senses her getting closer and closer until she’s at the desk right next to his. She decides to sit on it instead of the chair. It lets her look down on him much easier. 

“Can’t sleep?” he asks.

“I don’t think anyone can, so you get a pass, too,” she mumbles like she’s upset she can’t scold him about it like she usually does, and he has to let the corner of his mouth turn upward at that.

It’s difficult to push through the palpable tension between them. He still can’t look her way. 

“Last time we were in here wasn’t exactly the best day, you know,” she tells him matter-of-factly. He chuckles at the gallows humor. 

“I come here to think sometimes,” he says honestly. “It’s not all bad memories in this room.”

He remembers her proud smile and the trust she gave him. She remembers his innocent smile and his belief he gave her.

“Still… hell of a place to pick as your safe space.”

“Like I said, it’s easier to focus. I need to think about the plans.”

He mentally kicks himself for using that last word, his lips curling inward and his eyes closing. Whatever lighthearted feelings their recollections gave them dissipates. He can feel her stare getting more intense.

“Maki—”

“Yuta, it’s a terrible plan.”

The emotional tremble in her voice fueled by anger and empathy has him finally looking up at her. Her face is much the same as it was when he discussed this with everyone earlier in the day. 

It was too mad, too worried, and too convincing.

“It’s a last resort,” he tries to reiterate. “A trump card when all else fails.”

“I don’t care. You can’t honestly want this.”

He sits up and tries to quell his own irritation swelling up within him.

“It’s not about what I want,” he says. “It’s about getting the best chance we can get at winning.”

“Is it really a win if we have to go that far?”

“If Sukuna dies and everyone lives, then yes, it is!”

His palms fall heavy-handed on the desk, his voice raising in volume accentuating his frustration. When he sees even her recoil at his outburst, he can’t direct his anger anywhere else but at himself.

“Sorry…—”

“Are you not included in ‘everyone?’”

Her question falls on him as light as a feather yet presses down on him enough for him to hang his head.

“We’re all making sacrifices by choosing to fight,” he says. “Gojo-sensei, you, me… there’s no guarantee we all make it. If what I do prevents more lives being lost… then that’s just how it has to be.”

This conversation wears on him so much more when it’s just her. It would be so much easier on his heart if it was anyone but her.

Maki doesn’t say anything when she hops off her desk. He watches her slowly push it until their desks are conjoined. She takes a nearby chair and places herself right next to him. 

Even amidst their conversation, their presence so close by becomes increasingly prevalent to their senses. Maki scoots close enough for their chairs to bump and for the fabric of her hoodie and his shirt to make contact. Yuta almost dares to lean into it. 

“…I think that’s bullshit,” she tells him bluntly. The crass word grabs a small, broken laugh out of him.

“I don’t think it’s supposed to be fair,” he says gently.

“Then think of something else. Something less stupid.”

“It’s the best I can manage,” he whispers. “I just want to make sure the people important to me live.”

“And what about you? I said it before, but you’re too important to us. You’re too important to—”

She stops herself, a physical restraint holding back her voice from finishing. 

Yuta’s heart leaps only to ache and freefall when he understands what he’s doing to her. His face contorts painfully from the swirling well of emotions raging inside his chest. 

“…It’s a last resort, Maki,” he says one last time. “Gojo-sensei will win. It won’t go further than that.”

“And if it does?”

Yuta inhales deeply.

“…Then we do what we have to.”

It’s a coward’s answer that doesn’t hide the implications in the slightest. He feels her shake her head. 

Despite sitting so close, Yuta feels like he’s only getting farther away. 

“…Do you remember what you told me on our first mission together? What you told me on the training grounds all the way back then?”

He does. He’s afraid to say it again, now, when he’s trying to steel himself.

“You said you wanted the confidence to live. To be relied on. To be with people.”

His shaky sigh doesn’t help the quivering in his lips.

“You have it, Yuta. I don’t want you to throw it all away like this.”

It takes all his willpower to be steady. Even if he has to squeeze his eyes shut to hold back tears and squeeze his hands into fists to stop himself from shaking, he won’t give in. 

He gathers it all up and lets it flow out of his body in one shuddering exhale. 

“I’m not throwing it all away,” he whispers. “I’m protecting it.”

“Is that how you see it?” she whispers back.

“I have to. If I see it any other way, I won’t be strong enough.”

It’s the strength of the strongest. It’s the strength of those he aspires to be. 

The infallible strength of his teacher. 

The inspiring strength of her. 

He’s not like them, but he needs to be for all of this to work.

“…Okay.”

It’s resigned and defeated and doesn’t sound right coming from her, something he hates that he of all people pried out of her. 

Their argument leaves them still in their seats. There’s no winner or loser, nobody emerging right or wrong. All it did was leave them acutely aware of the battle ahead and the lives at stake. 

“…We should sleep,” Maki finally says, her voice sounding anything but tired. 

“…I think I’ll stay a little bit longer,” he says only because he doesn’t feel it right for him to walk beside her on the way back. 

It takes a moment, but Maki eventually rises from her seat and severs the minimal connection they shared. Yuta follows suit. He’ll at least see her to the door.

It’s a slow crawl there. When Maki makes it, she slides it away weakly. She steps out and stops. When she turns around, her eyes are aimed downward like his.

He wonders if he was the reason they were this close or if she was, but he can feel the proximity of her hair against his head. Despite looking down, he sees only her.

It’s dangerous. They share the same breaths. It would only take a step for them to touch, and that’s too dangerous.

“Yuta—”

“Maki—”

They interrupt each other. They look away. 

There’s too much left they need to say, still. 

He wants to tell her that everything will be okay, that they’ll win and it’ll be fine, and even if he has to die, he’d do it because every single time he’s almost lost his friends, almost lost her , it was unbearably agonizing, and he’d do anything to never let it happen again.

She wants to tell him that everything will be fine, that they’ll win and it’ll be okay, and even if the worst comes to pass, they should fight and fight and not toss it all away because the thought of him dying felt too much like her sister, and she couldn’t live through that again.

It’s too many things to say, and not the right time to say them. 

“Yuta.”

When he looks, she sees her worn expression matching his own.

“Don’t do anything stupid like dying, yeah?”

He nods, slow and measured.

“I don’t plan on it.”

It’s the most they’re able to give each other.

Yuta watches her walk away. Maki feels his eyes on her. 

They’ll say what they need to say some day. Some other time.

“Are you ready?”

His breaths are heavy and pained, each one more excruciating than the last as every huff only serves to accentuate how badly everything feels. He coughs and blood rolls down the corners of his mouth to join the rest that is pooled up on the operating table both halves of him reside on.

He stares up and focuses on the light shining on him, his right hand with his ring on, and Shoko on his left looking down at him with pity. 

An encroaching blackness begins to overtake the edges of his vision.

“Do it,” he coughs out.

Everything is beginning to blur. 

The darkness is only spreading more and more.

He’s ready. This is what needs to be done.

He feels something cold against his forehead before his consciousness fades.

Yuta doesn’t know where he is. It feels like he’s floating in a vast abyss. 

Five minutes. Once he wakes up, it’s all he’ll have left.

He tries to focus. 

Memories flash in his mind’s eye.

There’s a man with white hair and a face that’s somehow so arrogant and so full of care.

A panda bear and a boy with silver hair are laughing amongst themselves, their laughter exuding warmth and comfort.

There’s a girl with dark green hair and golden eyes.

Her smile is wide, brighter than any sun.

Yuta wishes he had just a little more time.

∮∮∮

“If you’re dying, get over here. If you’re not, suck it up.”

It takes a moment for Maki to get her bearings, the heavy breathing fueled by her adrenaline waning once she sees they have been teleported out of Sukuna’s domain and back to the base where the noncombatants are. Shoko is the one who called out to them, the woman emerging from the doors behind her where the makeshift operating rooms are.

Despite the agonizing pain she feels when she stands up, she marches her way to Shoko paying no heed to the others around them.

“Shoko. Where is he?”

The doctor stares at her blankly, yet hesitates to answer.

“…You’re hurt,” she tells her. “Stay put and—”

“Cut the crap,” she growls. “Yuta. Where is he?”

Shoko doesn’t get a chance to say anything when a rolling wave of gasps and murmurs is heard from the group behind. Maki spins around to see their attention locked on the multiple TVs set up still broadcasting the battlefield.

On each one, her teacher is displayed back on the battlefield despite being killed only a while ago. 

There’s a row of sutures stitched across his head.

Maki feels a sickening sense of dread welling up within her.

She pushes past Shoko despite her protests and moves through the doors behind her. Her eyes dart back and forth between the myriad of rooms all turned into makeshift medical areas, the messy and chaotic nature only adding to the increasing fear taking over her mind. She pants loudly as she checks every room she passes, grunts in pain as the act of throwing her arm out to push aside each door only worsens her own wounds.

There’s a wide double set of doors when she rounds a corner. Inumaki and Panda are standing outside it, their faces looking more and more haunted the closer she gets. Her panic is reaching a breaking point.

“Hey! Toge, Panda, where’s—”

She stops when they can’t look at her. She stops when she sees the blood on the floor that trails under the doors and into the other side.

She bursts through with her shoulder and nearly collides with the operating table and comes face-to-face with him.

Maki looks at him. She looks and she looks because she can’t reckon the sight before her is real.

He’s in pieces. His separated left arm and his bisected lower half are barely kept together with the rest of him with rudimentary stitching. An unfathomable amount of blood, his blood, colors his skin, his clothes, the table, the tools, the floor, and stinks of such strong copper that it floods her nose and threatens to drown her. Despite everything, she can't take her eyes off his face. There’s a clean incision around his head. His mouth is slightly agape. The lids of his eyes are open just enough to see what lies below.

She wants to vomit. She can’t accept it. She knows Yuta. She’s seen who he used to be and who he has become, and it isn’t this. She knows the delicate strength he has, the kindness he carries himself with, the life he desperately fought for that made him shine. She knows that his eyes are always so warm, attentive, and filled with life so she can’t accept that his eyes look like that now, the ones she once saw on a face identical to hers, ones glassy, empty, dark, cold, dead —

“Hey.”

Shoko’s hand settles on her back. Maki’s mortified expression still can’t look away.

“Breathe.”

She tries. It hurts. The blood is too overwhelming. 

“Ui Ui will retrieve Gojo’s body,” Shoko says slowly. “I’ll finish stitching Okkotsu back together and—”

“How much is left?” Maki stammers.

“How much what?”

“Time. Minutes. How much does he have left?”

Shoko inhales and thinks.

“Maybe two and a half,” she guesses. “But…”

Her eyes flit over to a TV screen in the corner. Maki follows her gaze and sees the battle unfolding.

There’s a small, basketball-sized domain on screen. Sukuna and him are both in there.

Maki feels the seconds tick by. Each one brings them closer and closer to the end.

There’s violent coughing outside. Toge’s tape-recorded message has been used.

In an instant, the domain shatters. Sukuna is blasted away, but Maki doesn’t care. She needs to see.

For a moment, Maki sees him standing next to Todo and Yuji and thinks that there’s still some hope left.

When his body drops, limp and unmoving, Maki feels her heart go with it.

She’s waiting for him to get up. She mutters over and over under her breath to get up. Get up, come back, and get fixed so the next time he thinks of something like this again she can yell at him until she's blue in the face and he laughs it off like he always done.

When nothing happens, her eyes drift to the other body beside her.

His dead eyes look back.

It dawns on her, then, that there might not be a next time for him and her.