Work Text:
The training ground was empty, bathed in the soft orange glow of the setting sun. Maki sat alone on the wooden steps, her weapon resting beside her. The faint hum of cicadas filled the silence, a backdrop to her restless thoughts.
She absentmindedly traced the scar on her forearm, her mind a battleground of unresolved emotions. No matter how hard she tried, no matter how many battles she won, the ghost of inadequacy loomed over her, whispering that it was never enough.
“You'll break that sword if you keep staring at it like that,” a familiar voice broke the silence.
Maki didn't need to look up to know it was Yuta. His voice conveyed that natural warmth, always on the verge of teasing, but never intrusive.
“I didn't ask for your opinion,” she muttered, though her grip on the blade loosened slightly.
Yuta approached slowly, the sword hanging casually from his shoulder. He studied her quietly for a moment before sitting down beside her, keeping enough distance to respect her space.
“You didn't have to do that,” he replied lightly, his tone concealing the deep concern reflected in his eyes. “I thought you'd save me the trouble by answering me rudely first.”
Maki shot him a sidelong glance. "Do you always have to be so annoying?"
“I'm pretty sure it's a personal talent,” Yuta joked with a smile, leaning back on his hands.
She shook her head, the faintest smirk tugging at her lips. “That, and being a pain in the ass.”
“Hey, I take that part of the job quite seriously,” he said, putting his hand to his chest in feigned offense.
For a moment, the two sat in knowing silence, the wind rustling the tall grass around them. Yuta's gaze fell on her hands, clenched tightly on her knees. She wasn't even aware of the tension, but he noticed it. He always noticed.
“You know,” he began quietly, careful not to disturb the fragile calm between them, “it’s okay to let someone else carry the weight sometimes.”
Maki's shoulders tensed and her fingers tightened. “What are you talking about?”
Yuta leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “I'm just saying... you don't always have to do everything on your own. You're strong, Maki, but even the strongest people need someone to lean on from time to time.”
She scoffed, her tone sharp but not cutting. “You wouldn't understand.”
“Maybe not,” Yuta admitted, his voice calm and steady. “But I’d still listen. If you wanted to talk, I mean.”
Maki turned to him and narrowed her eyes. “Why do you care so much? You're always hovering around me like some overprotective idiot. Don't you have your own problems to deal with?”
Yuta held her gaze, unflinching. “I care because it's you, Maki.”
Her breath caught for a fraction of a second before she masked it with a dry laugh. “You're unbelievable.”
“And you're impossible,” Yuta replied, still smiling. “But I'm still here, aren't I?”
Maki looked back at the horizon, the evening light tinging her features with a golden hue. She didn't reply, but the weight of his words hung in the air between them.
Yuta tilted his head, studying her more closely. “When was the last time you took a break?”
“I don't need a break,” Maki replied automatically.
“You're exhausted,” Yuta said, this time in a firmer tone. “You've been pushing yourself relentlessly. It's like you're trying to fight something that doesn't even exist.”
Maki clenched her jaw. “You don't understand, Yuta. If I stop... if I allow myself to rest, then everything I've worked for—everything I’ve fought for—”
“It won't disappear,” Yuta interrupted gently. “You've already proven yourself, Maki. To everyone. You don't have to keep proving it over and over again.”
Her hands relaxed slightly and the tension in her shoulders eased, but she refused to meet his gaze. “You don’t know what it’s like to be in my position.”
“Maybe not,” Yuta admitted. “But I do know what it feels like when you think you're not enough. When you feel like no matter how hard you try, it will never be enough.”
Maki glanced at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his voice.
He smiled slightly. “I'm not saying I have all the answers. But I know you don't have to go through this alone. You don't have to carry everything on your own, Maki.”
The sincerity in his words touched something deep inside her, something she wasn't ready to name. For a moment, she let the silence linger, with the cicadas filling the void.
“...You're really annoying,” she finally murmured, her voice softer.
“I know,” Yuta said, his smile widening. “But you like having me around anyway.”
Maki rolled her eyes, but the faintest hint of a smile tugged at her lips.
"Don’t push your luck," she said, yet, her tone lacked its usual sharpness.
The sun sank below the horizon, casting long shadows across the field. Yuta remained by her side, motionless, as if silently promising that he would not go anywhere. Maki felt the edges of her solitude begin to soften.
──────────────────
Maki stood by the railing, the night air cool against her skin. Still, her mind felt anything but calm.
“I shouldn't have made that mistake.” She gripped the strap of her weapon tightly, until her knuckles turned white from the pressure.
“If I had been faster, more accurate, more focused... none of this would have happened.”
Her chest felt tight and her thoughts spiraled, as they always did after a mission. No matter how many times she had won or how many enemies she had defeated—the failures always loomed larger.
“I can't afford to slow down. I can't afford to show weakness.”
She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to push those thoughts away. But they clung to her, dragging her down like weights tied to her ankles.
“...Maki?”
The voice startled her, abruptly pulling her out of the storm that had raged in her head. She blinked and turned, realizing that Yuta was standing next to her, frowning with concern.
“What?” she said, more sharply than she intended.
Yuta didn't flinch. He just looked at her as he always did, with a patience and understanding that made her insides twist uncomfortable.
“You were lost in your thoughts,” he said quietly. “I've been here for a while, but you didn't even notice.”
Maki looked away and gripped the railing tightly. “I'm fine.”
“You always say that,” he said gently, moving closer to her.
“I mean it,” she shot back, her tone defensive. She hated how easily he could see through her.
Yuta didn’t push further. Instead, he leaned against the railing beside her, keeping his gaze on her. “You don't have to be, you know?”
Maki stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you don't have to carry all this weight on your own,” Yuta said calmly but firmly. “I know you think you do, but you don't.”
For a moment, Maki didn't respond. Now her chest felt even tighter, but for a different reason. She glanced at Yuta out of the corner of her eye, his expression soft but unwavering.
“It's not that simple,” she finally murmured.
“I know it's not,” he replied. “But that's why I'm here.”
Maki turned to face him fully, clenching her jaw. “Why? Why do you care so much?”
Yuta stared at her, unblinking. “Because I see how hard you push yourself. How much you demand of yourself, even when it hurts. And because... I care about you, Maki. More than you realize.”
Her breath caught in her throat, the weight of his words hitting her harder than she expected. She looked away again, her mind racing.
“You're an idiot,” she muttered, though there was no bite to her words.
“Maybe,” Yuta said with a small smile. “But even if you keep calling me that, I'm not going anywhere. So... when you feel like letting someone in, I'll be here.”
Maki stayed silent, her grip on the railing loosening slightly. For the first time in a long time, the chaos in her mind felt a little calmer.
“Don't wait too long,” Yuta added playfully, lightening the mood. “I might get bored.”
Maki let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. “As if you could ever get bored of me.”
Yuta smiled. “You're right. I couldn't.”
And, for the first time all night, Maki felt the corner of her lips twitch upward, just slightly.
──────────────────
When the stars began to dot the night sky, Maki stood up abruptly and brushed the dust off her pants.
“All right,” she said firmly. “Enough complaining for today. I'm going to train.”
Yuta blinked at her in surprise. “Now? It's late.”
“So what?” Maki replied, picking up her weapon. “It's not like I have anything better to do.”
Yuta hesitated, but then he stood up too. “You can't keep pushing yourself so hard, Maki. You're going to burn out.”
“Don't lecture me," she said, slinging the weapon over her shoulder. "I know what I'm doing.”
“Do you?” Yuta asked in a firmer voice than usual, catching her off guard. “Because it doesn't look like it.”
Maki turned to glare at him, but the fire in her eyes didn’t quite reach the surface. Instead, she looked... tired.
Yuta took a step toward her, his expression softening. “Maki, you’re allowed to rest. You're allowed to feel things. You don't have to fight everything alone.”
She gripped her weapon tightly and clenched her jaw. “And what do you expect me to do, Yuta? Just stop? Let myself be weak?”
“It's not weakness,” he said softly. “It's human.”
For a moment, Maki just looked at him, searching his face for something she didn't quite know how to name. And then, before she could stop herself, she dropped her weapon to the ground.
“Okay,” she said quietly. “You want me to stop fighting? Here I am, stopping.”
Before Yuta could react, she stepped forward, grabbed him by the front of his jacket, and pulled him toward her to kiss him.
The world seemed to tilt on its axis. For a moment, all Yuta could register was the warmth of her lips, the way her fingers clung to his jacket as if she were afraid to let go.
When she finally pulled away, her face was flushed, but her gaze was steady. “There. Happy now?”
Yuta stared at her, his brain struggling to process it. “I—uh—what—?”
Maki rolled her eyes, though her lips curved into a teasing smile. “You're such an idiot…”
“I mean—" Yuta stammered, his face burning. "Did you just—? I mean—”
“Yeah,” she interrupted, crossing her arms. “I did. What are you going to do about it?”
Yuta blinked, his heart beating so loudly that he was sure she could hear it. “I—I don't know,” he admitted, his voice barely audible.
Maki laughed softly, sounding lighter than ever. “You really are hopeless, Yuta..”
“Hopelessly in love with you,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.
Maki froze, her eyes wide. For a moment, she just stared at him, her mocking smile fading. And then, to his surprise, she smiled—a real, genuine smile.
“Yeah,” she said softly, almost in a whisper. “I know.”
Yuta felt his chest tighten and his breath catch as he took in the weight of her words.
Maki reached out and brushed a strand of hair from his face. “Don’t get used to me saying stuff like that.”
“I won't,” Yuta said quickly, breaking into a laugh. “But I won't forget it either”.
Maki rolled her eyes, but there was no hiding the warmth in her gaze.
“Come on, idiot,” she said, picking up her weapon and slinging it over her shoulder. “Let's go.”
Yuta followed her, feeling his heart lighter than it had been in years.
──────────────────
The two walked side by side in silence, the cool night air wrapping around them. Yuta couldn't take his eyes off Maki, a soft smile playing on his lips. The way she held her weapon slung over her shoulder with such ease, the determination in her jaw—even in silence, she was the strong, unyielding Maki he admired.
But tonight, there was something gentler in her steps, a subtle shift that made his heart ache in the best way.
“Maki,” he said softly, breaking the silence.
She glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. “What now, Yuta? Haven't I been humiliated enough for one night?”
Yuta chuckled softly, scratching the back of his neck. “No, it's not that. It's just that... I wanted to tell you something.”
Maki stopped and turned to face him fully. “Okay. Say it then.”
He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. The way she looked at him—sharp and unyielding, yet somehow softer than before—made his pulse race.
Yuta took a step toward her and gently took her hand. Maki tensed slightly, but did not pull away, and narrowed her eyes as she studied his expression.
“The only thing I've ever wanted,” Yuta began, his voice steady despite his pounding heart, “is to see you happy. Not angry, not forcing yourself to carry everything alone, not holding back because you think you have to be strong all the time. Just... happy.”
Maki parted her lips and opened her eyes wide as he continued.
“And I'll be here,” Yuta said, softening his voice, “until you are. Until you feel safe enough to leave all that behind: the pain, the fear, the anger. Until your tears dry and you can be yourself, without fear, without barriers.”
He smiled and gently squeezed her hand with his. “So, Maki, please... hold my hand. Let me be the one to make you the happiest person in the world.”
Maki’s heart stuttered in her chest. The raw sincerity in his words left her momentarily speechless, a warmth spreading through her that she didn’t know how to handle.
“Yuta,” she began, her voice lower than she intended. “You really don't know when to quit, do you?”
“Nope,” he said with a smile, not looking away. “Not when it comes to you.”
Before she could respond, Yuta leaned toward her, closing the distance between them, and gave her a soft, lingering kiss on the lips.
Maki's eyes flew open in surprise and her cheeks flushed deeply. But as the initial shock wore off, she relaxed and her free hand rose hesitantly to rest on his chest.
When he finally pulled away, his face was as red as hers, but his eyes sparkled with a quiet confidence.
“You—you really are shameless,” Maki muttered, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably. Her lips curved into a small, reluctant smile.
Yuta chuckled, his hand still holding hers. “Maybe. But if it means seeing you smile like that, I don't mind.”
Maki looked away, her cheeks still flushed, but unable to hide the slight smile that played on her face.
“Okay,” she finally said, squeezing his hand gently. “But don't get used to it, okay? I'm not some damsel in distress or anything.”
“Never,” Yuta promised, with a tender, warm smile. “You're you, Maki. And that's all I've ever wanted.”
Maki turned to him, her expression a mixture of exasperation and something deeper, something softer. For the first time, she didn't feel the need to hide it.
“Idiot,” she muttered under her breath, but her hand remained firmly in his.
As they started walking again, Maki glanced up at the sky, a rare sense of peace settling over her. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel alone.
And with Yuta beside her, she thought maybe—just maybe—it was okay to let someone hold her hand.