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Yuuta’s blue eyes drift toward Maki for what must have been the fifth time that evening, the motion so habitual it borders on unconscious effort. She looks a little different tonight, enough to pull his attention again and again, not that he didn’t have this habit before. Her hair, usually tied back with that no-nonsense precision ponytail after she grew it out, hangs loose and damp around her shoulders, darkened by the water. The moisture deepens its color, swallowing the familiar forest-green hue into something darker. It suits her in a way Yuuta isn’t sure he has the words for.
Beside him, Hakari bumps his shoulder, erupting into a loud laugh at something Yuuji just said. The noise blends into the general chaos of the room of voices overlapping, bottles clinking, someone arguing over nothing but Yuuta barely registers any of it. His stubborn focus lingers elsewhere, quietly fixed on Maki like a compass needle that refuses to point anywhere else.
It has been three years since the Shinjuku battle. Yuuta doesn’t actively keep count but the number sits in the back of his mind regardless, a quiet, persistent reminder of how fragile everything is…how much every moment has cost them. Since then, missions have pulled him away more often than not. The heavy title of The Strongest isn’t something he ever asked for, but it rests on his shoulders all the same. Nights like this which are crowded, loud, careless in the best way, have become rare.
There’s nothing particularly remarkable about the occasion. It’s just spring, that brief stretch of the year when curses workload eases and the weather softens enough to make things feel almost normal. Hakari had thrown the whole thing together at the last minute, hauling in a carton full of beer bottles like it was the most natural decision in the world. A reason to celebrate, he’d said or maybe no reason at all. The real miracle is that everyone happened to be at Tokyo HQ at the same time.
One message in the group chat had been all it took, though Hakari’s usual mix of bribery and shameless manipulation certainly helped. Inumaki, Yuuji, Panda, and Yuuta had agreed almost immediately. Yuuji, in turn, dragged Nobara and Megumi into it. Maki had been the hardest to convince, she was threatening, with complete sincerity, to beat both Yuuta’s and Inumaki’s asses senseless for even suggesting it but Panda had simply clambered onto her shoulders and whispered something in her ear that made her pause. She had shot Panda a sharp, murderous glare, her ears pink then relented with visible irritation. No one questioned it though Yuuta wondered what Panda had held over Maki.
Now they’re all sprawled across the common area, a loose circle of familiar faces and half-finished conversations. Beer bottles balance precariously in hands and on knees, occasionally tipping, occasionally spilling but no one cares enough to stop.
Yuuta keeps his own bottle perched carefully against his knee, making a show of holding it without actually drinking much. He’s learned the hard way that his tolerance is embarrassingly low and the last thing he wants is to become the night’s entertainment. Still, he lifts it to his lips every now and then, just enough to maintain the illusion, only to keep Hakari from complaining.
A quiet part of him is grateful, though. For all of Hakari’s chaos, this is something Yuuta didn’t realize how much he needed. Being here, surrounded by them, listening to the noise and the laughter, feels like something warm pressing gently against the fractures he doesn’t talk about.
“...and I told him, ‘this isn’t lactose tolerant,’” Nobara is saying, her tone dripping with indignation as she perches beside Maki, gesturing animatedly. “And then this dumbass goes, ‘this isn’t lactose, it’s milk’”
Laughter breaks out instantly. Yuuji grins sheepishly, “Well, no one told me milk has lactose!”
“How do you not know that?” Megumi mutters, already looking irritated.
“Hey, it’s not common knowl– ow!” Yuuji cuts himself off as Megumi smacks him upside the head.
Yuuta lets out a quiet chuckle, the sound softer than the rest.
They’ve all grown stronger, there’s no denying that. Yuuji, Nobara, and Megumi have just returned from a trip abroad, training with international sorcerers. Officially, it was about learning and expanding their skills. Unofficially… it was also about distance. About putting space between themselves and everything Japan had come to represent.
Even now, with laughter spilling freely and voices overlapping in easy familiarity, but Yuuta can see what lingers beneath the surface. Megumi’s eyes carry a faint shadow of exhaustion and sleepless nights. Nobara’s hand drifts, almost unconsciously, toward her eyepatch, brushing against it before she pulls it away. And Yuuji–Yuuji laughs the loudest, but his shoulders never quite lose their weight, as if he’s carrying something no one else can see.
Yuuta watches them, the moment stretching quietly in his chest.
And then, almost without thinking, his gaze finds Maki again.
Maki sits beside Nobara, one leg crossed over the other, a beer bottle resting loosely in her hand. She drinks in small, unhurried sips, her expression as composed and unreadable as ever. If anything, she looks entirely unaffected by the alcohol.
“You’re a heavyweight?” Kirara asks from where she’s lounging on the carpet, propped up on one arm. Inumaki sits nearby, and Panda is sprawled comfortably across her lap like he belongs there.
Maki’s eyes widen just slightly at the sudden attention, clearly not expecting to be the subject of discussion. She exhales through her nose, almost dismissively. “I think it’s the Heavenly Restriction,” she says after a beat, “I just… don’t feel it”
Kirara tilts her head, considering that for a moment, and then a slow, mischievous smirk spreads across her face. “...Have you tried drugs?”
Maki stares at her, completely blank, the silence stretching just long enough to make it uncomfortable.
Kirara lifts her hands in surrender. “Tough crowd”
“Forget that,” Nobara cuts in, clearly unwilling to let the moment settle. She gestures sharply toward the kitchen. “Has nobody noticed that Inumaki-senpai has been hoarding dinosaur nugget packets in the common freezer, like what’s the sudden obsessions with dinos? There’s literally no space left for my smoothies”
Inumaki rolls his eyes, sitting up a little straighter as he responds at full volume, “salted ROE”
Yuuta, out of habit, translates “He says he doesn’t eat them because they’re shaped like dinosaurs. He eats them because they’re chicken nuggets”
Hakari raises an eyebrow “Really? He said all that?”
Before Yuuta can respond, Inumaki points directly at Nobara and says one word, clearly.
“Freeze”
Nobara goes rigid mid-motion, her body locking up instantly. There’s a split second of silence then Panda moves. With surprising speed, he snatches the chips packet straight out of her frozen hands and bolts for the door, Inumaki already scrambling after him. They burst out onto the grass field just beyond the common room, their laughter carrying back inside.
The room erupts. Everyone’s laughing loud. Nobara remains frozen in place, eyes wide with fury, while beside her, Maki presses her lips together, clearly fighting back a laugh.
A minute passes, then, “PANDA-SENPAI– INUMAKI-SENP–NO, I DON’T RESPECT YOU BOTH ANYMORE!”
“She respected them earlier?” Kirara is quizzical.
Nobara breaks free and storms outside, hammer already in hand, her voice echoing across the field. Megumi sighs like he’s aged ten years in the last thirty seconds, while Yuuji and Kirara immediately follow, laughing as they go, eager not to miss whatever chaos comes next.
Yuuta watches the door swing shut behind them, then glances toward the open space outside, where shouting continues.
“Is that… safe?” he starts cautiously, eyeing the metal hammer that Nobara left with.
“Nah, but they deserve this one” Maki mutters, unconcerned. She lifts a hand to push a long, overgrown bang back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. Her hair has mostly dried now, the strands curving softly over her shoulder. The look softens her in a way that feels almost unfair, it makes her look younger than her years, makes her look beautiful. Gulping, Yuuta has to consciously pull his gaze away.
The room settles into a quieter rhythm. With the others gone, only Yuuta, Maki, Megumi, and Hakari remain, the distant chaos outside filtering in through the open doorway, there are shouts of “Salmon!” followed immediately by an outraged “Oh, fuck you–”
Hakari leans back into the sofa, stretching his arms along the backrest like he owns the place. For a moment, he just listens, a grin tugging at his lips and then his expression shifts, something more deliberate settling in.
“There’s a reason I called you all here today,” he says.
Megumi doesn’t even look up from his phone, “Senpai, I’m not the head of the Zenin clan anymore. I can’t fund your fight club”
Hakari snorts. “Nah, not that”
He reaches into his pocket, fingers lingering there for a second before pulling out a small box. The motion alone is enough to draw attention, the shift in atmosphere is immediate.
Maki’s eyes narrow slightly. “No way…” she murmurs under her breath.
Yuuta leans forward without realizing it, his curiosity sharpening when Hakari flips the box open to show them a silver ring inside, that catches the light, set with a blue, star-shaped gem that glints with brilliance, it’s so… Kirara.
For a moment, no one says anything.
“I’m going to propose tonight,” Hakari says, and this time there’s no teasing edge to his voice, just a full roguish grin.
Yuuta turns to him instantly, warmth spreading across his face. “Hakari-senpai… congratulations. I’m really happy for you”
Megumi looks surprised, blinking before managing a quiet, “Congratulations..”
Maki doesn’t echo them right away. Her gaze stays fixed on the ring, her expression unreadable. When she finally speaks, her voice is more measured.
“What if she says no?”
Hakari doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t even consider it.
“She won’t,” he says, flashing a confident, almost boyish grin, “I know she won’t. We’ve been together long enough for that” He taps a finger lightly against his chest. “My fever burns, I never ignore it. I follow it and it always leads me to her”
A brief silence follows.
Megumi exhales softly, somewhere between impressed and tired, “…Damn”, that perfectly summarized how they all felt.
Yuuta isn’t sure what pulls his attention back to Maki again, only that when he looks, she is already looking at him.
It catches him off guard, not because their eyes meet, but because of the expression she’s wearing. It’s the same one from earlier, the one he hasn’t been able to make sense of all night. There’s something restrained in it, something held carefully beneath the surface, like a thought she keeps turning over but refuses to let spill. It sits somewhere in between, quiet and complicated, and it unsettles him in a way he can’t quite name.
For a second too long, neither of them looks away.
Then someone laughs, someone shouts, the moment fractures and yet it doesn’t really leave because it happens again and again that night.
Every time Yuuta’s gaze drifts, he finds her already there, watching him with that same unreadable steadiness, like she’s searching for something in him or maybe deciding something for herself. It lingers through the noise, through the shifting conversations, threading itself into the night without either of them acknowledging it out loud.
When Hakari finally gathers everyone’s attention, the room shifts. Conversations quiet and curiosity takes over, and Yuuta’s focus is pulled away at last. He watches as Hakari steps forward, as the energy in the room sharpens into anticipation, and then, Hakari drops to one knee.
For a split second, everything stills from their chaotic movements.
Then Kirara’s reaction breaks it wide open. She laughs brightly and before Hakari can even finish properly, she’s already moving, already screaming yes as she throws herself into him. He barely gets back up before she’s in his arms, and the kiss that follows is deep and full of emotion. It draws cheers, whistles, exaggerated groans from the rest of them, the room erupting into celebration all over again.
Yuuta feels warmth rise to his face, the intimacy of it unexpectedly overwhelming, and he turns his head slightly, half out of embarrassment, half to give them a moment that feels too private to watch so closely.
And when he does, Yuuta sees her again and Maki is already looking at him.
There’s no mistaking it this time.
For a brief second, it feels like the noise around them dims, like everything narrows down to that single point of contact. Her expression hasn’t changed much on the surface but something in it feels heavier now. Her lips are pressed together in thought, as if she’s holding something back that she hasn’t decided how to carry yet.
Yuuta’s breath catches.
Then she looks away.
The movement is small, almost abrupt, and her hair…those longer, uneven bangs she hasn’t bothered to trim, falls forward across her face, obscuring her expression from him completely.
He doesn’t follow. The moment slips, dissolving into the noise as quickly as it came.
The rest of the night blurs after that. Someone shoves another drink into his hand, and this time he doesn’t bother pretending. The alcohol burns more than he expects, but he lets it, lets the warmth spread, lets himself be pulled fully into the celebration. There’s laughter, too loud and too frequent, conversations that overlap and tangle, arms slung over shoulders, the kind of careless closeness that only comes when everyone is trying, just for a little while, to forget everything else.
Yuuta finds himself smiling more easily, laughing without thinking, giving in to the moment instead of standing just outside it like he usually does. Maybe it’s the drinks, maybe it’s the relief of seeing everyone like this…alive, together, happy but he lets it carry him.
He doesn’t notice when Maki leaves.
At some point, without drawing attention to herself, she slips out of the room and into the quiet beyond it, leaving behind nothing but the faint absence of something Yuuta doesn’t realize he’d been holding onto all night.
..
The solid weight on his shoulder wakes him before anything else, accompanied by the unmistakable smell of fur.
Yuuta stirs with a quiet groan, his consciousness dragging itself up slowly through a haze of exhaustion. He cracks his eyes open just enough to register the sharp intrusion of sunlight pouring directly onto his face and immediately squeezes them shut again with a wince. The light feels merciless, drilling straight into the dull ache at the back of his head.
He exhales slowly, trying to gather himself then turns his head just enough to glance at whatever is weighing him down.
Panda is fast asleep against him, completely unbothered, his round head nestled comfortably on Yuuta’s shoulder, soft fur brushing far too close to his nose. His breathing is slow and even, the picture of peace in stark contrast to the chaos still ringing faintly in Yuuta’s skull.
Carefully, Yuuta props himself up on his elbows and looks around.
The common area is a mess of limbs and blankets and half-fallen cushions. Everyone who didn’t make it to their rooms is scattered across the couches in increasingly questionable positions. Yuuji is shirtless for some reason Yuuta isn’t aware of, and is half-sprawled over Megumi, who looks like he passed out mid-complaint. Nobara is wedged somewhere between them, looking tiny next to their huge forms, with one arm flung over her face like she gave up halfway through resisting. It’s the kind of scene that would be funny if Yuuta’s head didn’t feel like it was splitting open.
His gaze drifts further.
Hakari and Kirara are nowhere to be seen…which, honestly, explains itself and then, almost without thinking, he notices something else.
Maki isn’t here either.
The realization sits quietly in the back of his mind as he gently lifts Panda’s head from his shoulder and lowers it onto a cushion, next to Inumaki’s dozing figure. Panda makes a small, content noise but doesn’t wake. Yuuta pauses for a second, making sure he’s settled, before pushing himself up to his feet.
The room tilts slightly as he stands, and he has to steady himself before stepping carefully over the heap of bodies. He moves quietly, instinctively avoiding making noise, even though none of them look like they’ll be waking anytime soon.
The kitchen is just off to the side, open and still faintly smelling of whatever they’d dragged out the night before. Yuuta reaches for a glass, filling it with water and drinking it down in slow, steady gulps. It helps, a little, but the headache still pulses stubbornly at the base of his skull.
Normally, he’d reach for medicine without thinking but today, he doesn’t bother.
Instead, he exhales softly and lets the familiar flow of RCT move through him. The cool sensation spreads, threading through his body and settling into the ache behind his eyes. Within seconds, the pressure begins to ease and the sharpness fading almost entirely.
By the time he opens his eyes fully, the world feels steady again.
He glances at the clock.
7:00 a.m.
Too early for most people, especially after a night like that, but his body doesn’t seem to care. Habit is hard to break. He yawns, stretching his arms overhead, muscles protesting faintly before loosening. On impulse, he fills the kettle and sets it to boil, the quiet hum of it oddly grounding in the stillness of the morning.
For a moment, it’s just him and the soft sounds of the kitchen when he hears footsteps entering.
Yuuta turns, a little too quickly, and finds Maki standing at the edge of the room.
She’s already dressed for the day, or at least for something far more productive than what the rest of them managed. Practical athletic gear, her hair pulled back into a low ponytail. A few stubborn strands, those same overgrown bangs, have slipped loose, falling across her forehead and partially shadowing her eyes.
For a second, he just looks at her.
“oh..hey. good morning” he blurts out, his voice dropping instinctively into a whisper.
“Morning,” she replies, her tone soft.
The kettle whistles, sharp in the otherwise calm space, and somewhere behind them, one of the sleeping bodies groans in protest. Yuuta quickly turns it off and without really thinking about it, he pulls out two mugs and drops in green tea bags, pouring the hot water with practiced ease. When he turns back, he offers one to her.
Maki steps closer and takes it.
Their fingers brush, just for a second, barely anything at all but it’s enough to make Yuuta acutely aware of himself. The lingering mess of his hair, the faint stiffness in his clothes, the fact that she looks… entirely put together while he very much isn’t.
He rubs a hand through his hair, trying to smooth it down, pushing his bangs back in a half-hearted attempt to fix whatever damage sleep and alcohol had done.
Across from him, Maki watches. There’s a faint smirk tugging at her lips as she lifts the cup, eyes peering at him over the rim.
“Rough night?” she asks, the amusement in her voice unmistakable.
Yuuta exhales, resisting the urge to groan “I barely remember it, to be honest,” he admits, a little sheepish as he takes a careful sip of his tea. The warmth helps, settling something in him. Then, after a brief pause, he adds, “You left, though”
She rolls her eyes lightly, like the answer should be obvious. “The moment they started drunk wrestling, I knew it was my cue to leave”
Yuuta blinks. “…oh”, that explains why Yuuji was shirtless.
A quiet wave of relief passes through him. At least his drunk self hadn’t gotten dragged into that. His shirt is still on, intact, evidence enough that he’d made at least one good decision.
Maki hums faintly, tilting her head as she takes another sip. A stray strand of hair slips further into her face, and she blinks it away with mild annoyance.
“You passed out pretty early, though,” she adds, that same teasing edge returning “Didn’t take much. Quite the lightweight you are”
Yuuta huffs a soft, embarrassed laugh, rubbing the back of his neck “Yeah… I’ve been told”
She continues to blow gently over the surface of her tea before taking small, measured sips, her posture is relaxed. Yuuta mirrors her without thinking, lifting his own cup, letting the warmth settle into his hands and while his movements match hers, his attention doesn’t waver.
It stays steadily on her, stubbornly so.
There’s something about the quiet of the morning, about the way the light catches in the loose dark strands of her hair framing her face so beautifully, that it makes it harder to look away.
His mouth moves before his thoughts can catch up.
“Your hair…”
Maki looks up at him, her gaze direct.
“It’s grown a lot,” he finishes, the words softer than he intended.
She shrugs lightly, as if it’s nothing worth noting “yeah. I don’t really have time to cut it”
There’s a brief pause.
“I can do it for you”
The moment the words leave his mouth, Yuuta feels the shift in the air. Maki blinks, her golden eyes fixed on him and suddenly he’s very aware of what he just offered.
He rushes to explain, the words coming out quicker, “I mean, like my older sister used to cut my hair when I was younger, and she showed me how. So now I just do it myself, especially since I’m moving around so much on missions. It’s… convenient”
Maki watches him for a second, her expression unreadable.
“Oh,” she says simply.
And now that the offer is hanging there between them, Yuuta feels the weight of it. Cutting his own hair is one thing, it’s practical and impersonal. But cutting someone else’s… that’s different. It’s closer, more deliberate in a way he hadn’t thought through.
He opens his mouth, ready to backtrack, to brush it off like it wasn’t a serious suggestion when she speaks up.
“Okay”
The word lands softly but it still catches him completely off guard. Before he can respond, she tilts her mug back to finish her tea in one go. A bit of it slips over the rim, trailing down her chin in a thin line. She sets the cup down with a quiet clink and wipes it away with the back of her hand, smearing the moisture absently over her pink soft-looking lips.
Yuuta stares.
Maki glances at him, catching the look, her expression widening just slightly.
“Now? Or…” she prompts.
“Yeah, yeah, sure,” he says quickly, snapping back to himself. He tips his own mug back, finishing the last of his tea in a hurried swallow “I’ll just freshen up and… I can meet you at your room? If that’s okay.”
She pushes herself off the stool with an easy motion, already turning away, “Sure”
And just like that, she’s gone, her footsteps soft as they recede down the hall, leaving behind a quiet that feels noticeably different from before.
Yuuta exhales, realizing only now how tense and flustered he’d been. He busies himself immediately, reaching for her mug and his, rinsing them out under the tap just to have something to do with his hands. The mundane task helps a bit but it doesn’t slow the quick, uneven beat of his heart.
“Salmon”
The voice comes from behind him.
Yuuta turns to see Inumaki slumped across the couch, very much awake now, watching him with a knowing look that feels far too perceptive for someone who had been passed out.
Yuuta straightens slightly, defensive without meaning to be. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Inumaki-kun”
“Cod”, Inumaki rolls his eyes and smirks.
Yuuta huffs under his breath, pointedly ignoring him as he places the mugs back in their spots. He wipes his hands against his shirt and heads for the hallway. His steps are quicker than usual.
There’s a restless.unfamiliar energy sitting just under his skin now. All he knows is that his chest feels lighter and tighter at the same time, his thoughts moving faster than he can properly follow.
And as he makes his way toward Maki’s room, one thing becomes painfully clear. He’s looking forward to this far more than he probably should be.
..
Yuuta knocks twice and takes a small step back as he waits. Almost immediately, he reaches down to tug at the hem of his shirt, smoothing it out for no real reason other than the restless energy humming under his skin. He’d gotten ready faster than usual, having showered, dressed, grabbed his scissors kit and walked over to Maki’s dorm room.
The door opens quicker than he expects.
At first, it’s just one sharp golden eye peering through the gap. Then it widens slightly in recognition and she pulls the door open fully, stepping aside to let him in.
“Uh… welcome,” Maki says, the words coming out with an awkwardness that doesn’t quite fit her.
“Thanks,” Yuuta replies with a small, easy smile.
“I should be thanking you, idiot,” she shoots back, a familiar edge slipping into her tone. He huffs a quiet laugh, a little sheepish, and steps past her into the room, closing the door behind him.
Her space is almost identical to his in structure, same layout but it still feels distinctly hers. A single bed sits neatly against the wall, the white sheets simple and blankets neatly folded at the foot. A desk occupies the corner, organized in a way that feels practical rather than decorative. Where a second bed would have been, there’s open space instead, softened by a blue carpet spread across the floor. A sword rack rests nearby, displaying katanas and spears he’s seen her use before.
There isn’t much in the way of decoration but what is there stands out.
Yuuta’s gaze lands on a photo frame on the desk. Two small twin girls in yukata stare wide-eyed at the camera, frozen in a moment that feels impossibly distant from everything now.
Maki notices where he’s looking. Her expression softens, just a fraction, “It’s Mai.”
“I see… you look so young,” he says gently.
“Yeah..”
There’s a small smile on her lips but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. It lingers there, fragile in a way that makes Yuuta hesitate before speaking again.
“You know… Gojo-sensei gave me some pictures of us,” he says after a moment.
Her eyebrow lifts, questioning.
“Us,” he clarifies quickly. “From our first year i mean, like me, you, Inumaki-kun, Panda-kun… and him.. When he took us to that winter festival remember,” His voice dips slightly, something quieter threading through it. “When I got his will, I was allowed to clear out his room. The one in the teachers’ dorms”
That room that still respectfully remains untouched, even now, with an occasional bouquet of red camellias regularly replaced at Gojo’s empty bedside table.
Yuuta glances away briefly, as if picturing it. “I was going through his drawers when I found one… just sitting there”
Maki steps closer and pats his shoulder gently. “I miss Satoru too,” she says “He was an annoying ass, but… yeah.”
Yuuta smiles, the sadness easing just a little.
He exhales, then straightens slightly, shifting back into the present. “So… where do you want to sit?”
She drags her desk chair into the center of the room without much ceremony. Yuuta moves to help, laying out a spare sheet beneath it to catch the falling strands of hair. He sets down his kit, pulling out a thin comb and a pair of scissors, the familiar tools steadying his hands.
Behind him, there’s the soft rustle of fabric.
He turns just enough to see her shrug off her hoodie, leaving her in a thin tank top. It reveals the strength in her build, her toned arms, pale skin marked by the healed pink remnants of burns that trace across her arms. There’s nothing fragile-looking about it, infact making her look strong and admirable in Yuuta’s eyes. It’s simply so her.
Yuuta looks away quickly or at least, he tells himself he does, but the image lingers, settling somewhere deeper than it should.
She takes her seat, back to him now, her posture a bit rigid. The cool morning air drifts in through the slightly open window, brushing over the room and stirring the edges of the white lace curtains. It softens everything, the quiet, the space between them, the moment itself.
Yuuta steps closer.
His fingers hover for just a second before he leans slightly to the side, lowering himself enough to catch her gaze.
“May I?” he asks softly.
He doesn’t miss the way her breath shifts, just slightly. Her eyes meet his, closer now than they’ve been all morning and for once, there’s no smirk, no sharpness on her face. Her eyes meet his and her lips press together faintly before she gives a small nod.
He reaches for the band at the base of her neck, his fingers brushing lightly against her soft pale skin of the back of her neck as he slides the rubberband free. The contact is brief, little hairs on her neck standing a bit, faint pink hue coloring her neck.
Her soft straight hair falls loose immediately, cascading down her back in dark, ink-like strands. It’s longer than he expected, far past the length she used to keep it and without the tie holding it back, it softens her silhouette in a way that feels unfamiliar and intimate.
For a moment, Yuuta just looks.
Then, slowly, he lifts his hands and runs his fingers through it, from front to back, easing it open. The smooth strands slip between his fingers, brushing lightly against her skin as he works.
His touch shifts, gentler now, as his fingertips graze her scalp. Maki’s shoulders loosen almost instantly. The tension he hadn’t even realized was there begins to melt away, her posture softening as she leans back, just slightly, into his hands.
Yuuta swallows, steadying himself, and reaches for the comb. He draws it carefully through her hair, starting at the ends, working out the knots with slow soft strokes. Each pass is precise, the rhythm settling into something soothing.
A quiet sigh escapes her.
It’s soft, barely there, but it lands heavier than anything she’s said.
Yuuta continues, more careful now, more acutely aware of every movement. Once her hair falls straight and neatly without any knots beneath his hands, he begins sectioning it, fingers moving with practiced familiarity even as his focus drifts.
She speaks then, her voice low and calm.
“Don’t cut much. Just trim”
He pauses for a fraction of a second, standing slightly to her side now.
From this angle, Yuuta can see her side profile clearly, the clean line of her jaw, the curve of her lips red from constant nibbling, the faint flush coloring her cheeks and curved shadows beneath thick eyelashes, eyes closed in relaxation. There’s something unguarded about her like this, something he doesn’t think many people get to see.
His grip tightens ever so slightly around the comb.
“Okay,” Yuuta says, the word coming out softer, his throat tightening just a little as he gulps.
He snips away at the ends of her hair with quiet precision, trimming the uneven, jagged edges and guiding them into a clean, even line. The soft, rhythmic sound of the scissors fills the room, steady and meditative, blending with the faint rustle of the morning breeze drifting through the window. Strands fall gently onto the sheet below, dark against the pale fabric.
Up close, he becomes acutely aware of everything– the subtle rise and fall of her shoulders, the warmth of her presence, the faint citrus scent of her skin that lingers beneath the freshness of the morning air.
Leaving the length at her back, he shifts, stepping around to stand in front of her to cut her bangs.
She doesn’t move. Her eyes remain closed and her expression is calm but her face is a bit pink . It makes his next movements slower, more intentional.
Yuuta begins sectioning her bangs carefully, the tips of his fingers running along her temples, grazing the soft curve of her cheek as he separates the strands. His touch is light, tracing lines that linger just a second longer than necessary. He notices the way her lips press together faintly at the contact, the smallest reaction but enough to make his pulse shift.
He leaves the sides longer, letting them frame her face and focuses on the center, bringing the scissors up with careful control. The blades move close to her eyes, and her lashes flutter instinctively, a soft, reflexive response that he quietly notes in his head.
He neatly trims them to just above her brows to keep them from falling into her eyes while still softening her features.
For a moment, Yuuta simply stands there, taking it in.
Her hair falls naturally now, the longer strands cascading down her back, the newly cut bangs framing her face in a way that feels… different. Softer, muted, or maybe it’s just that he’s seeing her like this, in this quiet, unguarded space.
Something in Yuuta’s chest tightens. Too many thoughts crowd his mind at once, overlapping, loud and impossible to separate.
None of them stop Yuuta from lifting his hand slowly until his fingers find her jaw. He cups it gently, his palm warm against her skin, guiding her face up just enough.
Her eyes open.
Golden meets blue, and for a second, everything stills.
She doesn’t pull away. She just looks at him, her gaze serene.
His thumb moves before he can think better of it, brushing lightly against the plush of her lower lip. The contact is tentative at first, then lingers, pressing just enough to feel the softness there. His gaze drops, drawn helplessly to the movement, to the way her lips part slightly under the pressure.
There’s nothing guarded in his expression now.
It’s open and heavy with something he hasn’t tried to hide and can’t really put into words.
She reacts in her own way, her lips part just enough for her canines to catch lightly against his thumb, a gentle, testing bite that sends a sharp warmth through him. Her molten golden eyes lift back to his, half-lidded, something deeper settling there, something that mirrors the tension building in his chest.
Yuuta exhales slowly, his shoulders loosening as if something inside him has finally given way.
He leans in, almost instinctively, closing the space between them inch by inch. Her skin warms beneath his hand. He can feel it, the shift in her. Her gaze doesn’t waver as he moves closer, her expression looking expectant and bright, like she’s meeting him halfway without needing to move at all.
Their breaths mingle, close enough now that he can feel the faint warmth of it against his lips. The grounding scent of tea lingers between them mixed with something lighter, something citrus-like that clings faintly to her skin.
It’s so unfairly intoxicating to Yuuta that he gives in and closes the distance.
His lips meet hers carefully, almost reverently, and he tilts his head just enough to feel the full shape of her against him.
Then she moves.
It’s subtle at first, a gentle press forward into his lips as she leans into him, closing that last fraction of hesitation, and they remain there for a heartbeat– just feeling, just learning the quiet warmth of each other’s lips without urgency.
There’s something almost innocent in it, the thought makes him want to groan.
Maki’s lips part slightly and the shift changes everything. She draws him in, just a little between her lips, testing and tasting, turning the innocent press of lips into something deeper and provocative . The moment stretches and deepens, and Yuuta follows instinctively as he leans into her in return.
His other hand rises, cupping her cheek more firmly now, holding her there tight. Her hands, which had been still, begin to move and rest lightly against his shoulders at first, then tightening just enough to show she’s there with him, present in every second of it.
The kiss grows warmer and fuller.
Yuuta feels it in the way her breath shifts, in the faint tremor that runs through her when he moves closer, when he dares just a little more opening his mouth more to take her in deeper. It sends a hot rush through him, making his chest feel too tight and too full all at once.
He harshly exhales against her, deepening the kiss, drawn in by the way she responds, by the quiet sounds she doesn’t quite hold back. Every small reaction feels magnified as it settles directly under his heated skin.
His grip shifts, one hand sliding from her jaw, tracing a path across her temple, back of her ear to the back of her neck, fingers brushing over warm skin, anchoring her closer. The contact draws a soft shiver from her and he feels it, feels all of it, in the way the moment intensifies without either of them pulling away.
Time blurs.
Breath grows uneven, shared and stolen in fragments between them as they take turns tasting and feeling each other. The world outside the room fades into something distant, leaving only the quiet, heated space they’ve created between them.
When he finally pulls back, it’s not by much, just enough to breathe.
His chest rises sharply, his breath unsteady as he lingers close, close enough to still feel the warmth of her against him. He swallows, his lips parting slightly as he tries to steady himself, the faint taste of her still lingering there.
Maki is right in front of him, closer than ever.
Her breathing is uneven too, her chest rising and falling as she draws in air, her composure fractured in a way he’s never seen before. Her expression, the same layered, complex, the look he couldn’t understand the night before.
Only now, he does.
Her eyes meet his, wide and heavy-lidded, her irises darkened, something raw and unspoken flickering beneath the surface. There’s a faint wet sheen there.
Yuuta doesn’t look away.
He can’t.
His gaze drifts, just for a second, tracing the warmth still flushed across her face, the pink hue that lingers and spreads, slipping down along her neck and chest, he wonders where else the pink reached. He finds himself imprinting into his memory without meaning to.
When his eyes return to hers, something inside him settles.
“Mak– Maki, I…”
His voice falters, softer than it’s ever been, and he pauses just long enough to steady himself. His tongue brushes over his lips unconsciously, still tasting her there, and it only makes his thoughts tangle further.
“You’re… the strongest person I know,” he continues, quieter now,, each word carrying weight “Not just strong, but… admirable. In every way that matters”
His hand tightens slightly where it rests against her neck, grounding himself as he pushes forward.
“I think–no, I know–I’ve been trying to be like you for a long time. To reach that kind of strength and courage. But somewhere along the way…” he exhales, a small, almost self-conscious laugh slipping through, “I realized I don’t just want to be like you. I want to be… with you”
His gaze doesn’t leave hers now, unwavering despite the vulnerability settling in his chest.
“Every time you walk into a room, my eyes just….find you. I don’t even think about it anymore. It just happens” His voice lowers, rougher at the edges “I don’t know how long I’ve been holding this in, but I can’t anymore”
There’s a brief pause, like he’s standing on the edge of something with no way back.
“I really, really like you,” he says, the words landing with quiet sincerity. “And I’d–”
Her hand comes up suddenly, covering Yuuta’s mouth before he can finish, which makes him freeze.
Maki is smiling warmly at him..
“Took you long enough…” she murmurs. Her gaze lingers, knowing, before she adds under her breath, “…idiot”
If Yuuta had a tail, it would have been wagging, betraying him instantly. The way his expression lights up, the way his eyes brightly widen says more than enough.
Relief floods through Yuuta , he starts to speak again, words already forming, but she lifts her hand slightly, stopping him before he can spiral into another ramble.
“Would you like to go on a date?” she asks.
He blinks.
“Date?” he echoes, like he needs to hear it twice to believe it.
She watches him.
“Yeah,” he says, his voice softening again, a smile pulling at his lips, “A date. Just you and me.”
The words settle between them. Maki’s flush deepens, spreading across her face, down her neck, the warmth impossible to miss now. Yuuta leans in again, drawn back without hesitation this time, his gaze dropping to her lips like it belongs there, like it’s always belonged there.
And then a loud knock cuts through the moment.
They both jolt slightly, Maki pulling back just enough to break the distance, while Yuuta instinctively leans forward with a small pout, his hands still resting against her face and neck as if unwilling to let her go just yet.
“Maki-senpai! Do you know where Yuuta-senpai went?!”
Yuuji’s voice rings loudly from the other side of the door. Yuuta’s entire face heats instantly, the reality of how close they are crashing back in all at once.
Maki, on the other hand, exhales sharply through her nose, trying not to laugh.
“No idea!” she calls back, her voice perfectly even despite everything.
“Oh, okay! If you see him, please let him know I asked for him!”
Footsteps retreat quickly after that, fading down the hallway and silence returns.
Maki looks back at Yuuta, one brow lifting slightly as she catches him still staring, very intently at her lips. Amusement flickers across her expression.
“So,” she starts, voice dry, “Yuuji is looking for you. Since I happen to see you here, I guess I should let you know”
Yuuta hums, entirely unconcerned. “Him? Oh… yeah, sure”
He doesn’t move away. If anything, he leans closer.
And then, without another word, he pulls her back in.