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Maki stood in front of the full-length mirror in her and Yuta’s bedroom, arms crossed over her torso as she studied her reflection. The dim glow of the bedside lamp cast long shadows against her skin, highlighting every ridge, every mark, every perceived imperfection. Her fingers traced the jagged lines of her burn scars, discoloured flesh that stretched all across her; her face, across her shoulders, down her arms, over her ribs. A permanent reminder of the night she almost died.
“I’m so ugly.”
The thought slithered through her mind like a curse, unwelcome, but persistent tonight. She scoffed, turning away from the mirror with a sharp click of her tongue, trying to ignore the gnawing thoughts. Maki snatched a tank top from the bed and yanked it on, covering some of the scars from sight. Not that it mattered, Maki felt the stinging pain of tears welling in her eyes, quickly blinking them away.
“I need to hit something”
Maki stood up, heading to a nearby storage closet to grab one of the many spare cursed tools that she used for training. However, as she grabbed the sheathed sword, she saw the burn marks on her arms. The sight of the skin made her stomach lurch. Her grip on the sword tightened, knuckles whitening, but instead of swinging it, she just stopped. Stared. The blade trembled slightly in her hand.
“Why am I acting like this?”
She wasn’t weak. She wasn’t supposed to break over scars earned years ago. But tonight, the weight of them pressed down harder than usual. Maybe it was the quiet, perhaps something else, but tonight she couldn’t handle it. A choked sound escaped her before she could stop it. Maki dropped the sword onto the bed with a dull thud and sank down beside it, pressing her palm to her mouth. Her shoulders shook, silent sobs wracking through her as she hunched forward, trying to muffle the sound. The attendants outside wouldn’t hear. No one would. That thought somehow made it worse.
Maki curled in on herself, fingers digging into the fabric of the bedspread. The tears were hot, relentless, burning like the fire that her left her like this. She hated it. Hated the way her mind wouldn’t shut up, hated the way she cared at all.
“Pathetic”
The word echoed in her skull, sharp and cruel. Right now, she just felt broken, lost in her own head.
All of Maki’s senses felt overwhelmed, she ignored the quiet creak of a door opening downstairs, instead hoping that whoever it was couldn’t hear her quiet breakdown. But suddenly, her breath caught mid-sob. That presence. Yuta.
She knew it was him before she even heard his footsteps. His cursed energy wrapped around her senses like a lifeline. She jerked upright, hastily wiping at her face with the back of her hand. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her like this.
“Weak. Vulnerable. Ugly.”
But it was too late, the bedroom door slid open. There Yuta stood, still in his mission clothes, hair slightly dishevelled, concern quickly spreading across his face as his gaze met hers.
“... Maki?”
Her name on his lips was soft.
Maki turned her face away, not wanting him to see. Yuta didn’t hesitate. The moment he saw tear tracks on her face, his sword clattered to the ground, forgotten. He crossed the room in two quick strides and sat behind her on the bed, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. His chest pressed against her back, warm and solid, his chin resting on her shoulder.
“Let it out”, he murmured, voice quiet and steady, “I’ve got you.”
Maki shook as the dam broke. She twisted in his arms, burying her face against his shoulders as the sobs wracked her body, unrestrained this time. Yuta didn’t flinch or pull away; he just held her tighter, one hand cradling the back of her head, fingers tangling gently in her hair. Minutes passed, the storm of tears slowed, Maki’s breath evening out into shaky exhales. When she finally pulled back, her face was a mess: red-rimmed eyes, damp cheeks.
Yuta didn’t care. He brushed a thumb under her eye, wiping away the last traces of moisture, before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
“Is it about the scars again?” he asked quietly.
Maki swallowed hard, looking away. She didn’t answer. She didn’t have to.
Yuta already knew. His lips curled into a small, tender smile as he cupped her face in his hands.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, his thumbs brushing lightly over her cheeks.
Maki instantly nodded, her voice barely above a whisper, “...Yeah.”
Yuta took her hand first, pressing his lips gently against the skin of her knuckles. Then, slowly, he trailed kisses up her arm, each one featherlight, reverent, as if he was worshipping every inch of her skin, burnt or not. Maki’s breath hitched, her earlier sadness giving way to a wave of warm embarrassment. By the time Yuta switched to her other arm, her face was burning.
“Y-Yuta!” she started.
Yuta just grinned against her skin, unrelenting. He quickly reached her shoulders, then her collarbone, and finally, her face.
Maki squeaked when his lips brushed the scar across her cheek, then the bridge of her nose, then her forehead again.
“S-stop it!” she protested, but there was no force behind it, especially when a laugh bubbled up out of her, bright and unrestrained.
Yuta didn’t stop. He peppered her face with kisses until she was squirming, giggling, and shoving at his chest in jest.
“You’re ridiculous,” she muttered with a giggle.
“And you’re beautiful”, he shot back with a grin.
The tension in Maki’s body melted away as Yuta wrapped around her, holding her close again. His voice was strong and unwavering, and he dragged out every syllable teasingly as he spoke.
“You’re Maki”, his lips pressed on her forehead.
“I’m Yuta,” his lips pressed against her cheek.
“I’m yours”, his lips pressed against the other cheek.
“You’re mine,” He kissed her lips gently, his forehead pressed against hers, “and you’re beautiful.”
Maki let it all sink in, let his words chase away the lingering shadows of doubt. Yuta didn’t lie, not to her, never to her. Her fingers tangled in the fabric of his jacket, pulling him closer.
Yuta smiled, soft and knowing. “You’re beautiful, Maki. Every part of you.”
She closed her eyes and sighed contentedly as Yuta hugged her. She was happy. She was his.