═Resident Maki Kisser At Your Service═ @ari-665 - Tumblr Blog

Dec 23, 2024

reflections

:go tell the birds that i am gone

:masterlist

note: tw, gore, death, descriptions of panicking and a slur like once. any discomfort after choosing to read is not my responsibility.

Shoko refused to see you, after what you've done. You can't say you blame her, though you can't say it doesn't hurt, either. She refused to heal your hip properly, saying she had already cut contact the moment you became a traitor. The punishment was only being kind; Shoko would've done much worse if she had the energy for it. Yuta had to use his reverse cursed technique to heal your hip, and even then it wasn't fully recovered. You'd need to go to a hospital to get better treatment but all the hospitals nearby are shut down.

When the second years talked about you having changed since last year when times were still alright, Maki didn't believe it. She thought it was because you were just maturing, you were just growing up. Panda suggested that you'd become more blunt and quiet than last year, and dare he say, mean. Maki didn't believe it. Over the phone, when Maki was spending time on her own, Yuta would say the same thing. And in natural, she didn't believe it.

And now that she's been forced to go what felt like an eternity without you, her eyes have been opened. She sees what the others were talking about. The way you stare at the ground or at the wall like you want to punch a hole through it. The way you avoid everyone else despite their best advances. The way you sit, eat, drink and entertain yourself alone while everyone else sits together. A shadow is always cast over your face, your eyes are always dark and empty. This is what the others were talking about. That sad and depressing lump in the corner of the room drowning in who knows what, that lingering thought in the back of everyone's head that rots their minds like the plague.

A gust of wind blows through Maki's short hair, a stand of hair softly dancing in the wind, and she glares at it in a silent command to sit still, but it never stops. The strand keeps dancing. The wind keeps blowing. Her fingers tighten around the cup of water she's holding close to her chest, crossing her legs and leaning back against the couch.

Megumi, standing next to the couch adjacent to hers on the other side of the coffee table in the middle of the room, crosses his arms and lifts his eyebrow at her silence. In the moment that's passed she was arguing with Megumi about his role as the Head of the Zenin clan. Megumi was adamant about not doing it, though the fortune, the cursed tools, the power, role was all his. She understands why he doesn't want it but not why he won't do it. It would benefit the clan, wouldn't it? Or at least begin to. To evolve instead of go back in time, learn to move on from an old mindset and grow and change as a community. Because she'd be damned if another girl like her was born in the next generation and be treated any similarly like she was if she had a thing to do about it.

"I don't want to," Megumi argues back, tilting his head downwards to prove his point. "It's not for me."

"Who else is it for, then, Megumi?" Maki looks back up at Megumi—her eye narrowed slightly, as her other one had been bandaged. Her eyebrow furrows, making a crease in her nose. Megumi shrugs. He looks at the corner of the room, glancing at you sitting on the floor with your legs propped up and your arms on your knees, your head tilted down towards your crotch. He looks back at Maki.

"Wouldn't it be more suitable for you? Isn't that why you became a Jujutsu sorcerer in the first place?"

"There's no way they'd accept me as clan leader with the way I am now," Maki refers to her scars by looking down at her wrist. She almost flinches at the burned tissue. She swallows the lump in her throat, her thumb rubbing the side of her cup. Megumi silences for a moment, taking in the context of her words by looking at the floor.

"Plus, you inherited the family cursed technique, and learned a domain, and Satoru favored you, so it all adds up to you being good for the clan. So just take it."

Megumi rolls his eyes and sighs sharply, narrowing his eyes at Maki.

"But stuff like acceptance...does that really matter? You'll get those benefits like money and cursed tools, just by becoming clan head. Acceptance should be the least of your worries when you have a clan to run."

"I can't," Maki snaps, making Megumi flit his eyes again. He goes silent, biting his tongue to keep himself from arguing, and sighs quietly. "I'm still not good enough. Acceptance was...a big thing, back then. It still is now. And I can't make a place where Mai can feel like she belongs, and..."

Maki makes a quarter turn with her head, making sure to just barely have you in her sights. For a moment she wonders if you're paying attention to any of this or if you're and in too deep in your depression that you're knocked out and taking a nap. She tries to clear her thoughts by thinking of what to do about Mai but it doesn't work; as much as she loves her sister, which is a lot, Maki's afraid she might love you just a little bit more.

"I just need you to do it. And give me the keys to the cursed warehouse so I can collect the tools."

"No problem," Megumi sighs once again and looks around the room. He sees that it's nearly completely empty with the exception of you three (if Megumi would even dare count you as a real presence). No Itadori, no Yuta. The AC turned off, leaving a newfound warmth crawling up his skin.

"I'll go later on to collect the cursed tools," Maki announces, after finishing her room temperature cup of water and gently sets it down on the coffee table. Megumi watches her stand up from the couch, her head making another quarter turn to look at you in the corner. You hadn't shifted from your spot once since the last time she took a glance. Maki sighed deeply and turned back to Megumi.

"You can't tell anyone," Maki whispers, leaning closer to Megumi. He shifts his head closer to her face so he can hear more clearly amidst her hoarse voice. "I'm taking Y/n with me."

"What?" Megumi's eyebrows furrow. "You can't. Hatake-senpai's a fugitive."

"They're also a special grade. There's not much those shitty Higher Ups can actually do other than tell us off."

"They're injured," Megumi counters, Maki twitching her head to look him in the face. They lock eyes for a while, trapping each other in a staring contest. Maki purses her lips into a line, gritting her teeth.

"It'll be fine," another quarter turn. "Just don't tell anyone."

"Will they even go with you?"

"They have no choice. They're injured, remember?"

"Not so injured that they can't retaliate. They have a hole in their hip not in their stomach. They can still move."

"Just trust me," presses Maki, clenching her jaw in frustration. Megumi parts his lips to retaliate, only for blank air to escape. He silences, nodding his head briefly and turning to walk away and leave Maki be.

She shuffled over to your corner which the paint on the walls was being permeated with depression as you sat there like a troll. Maki looked down at you, an indifferent look in her eyes—eye, she reminds herself, gently bringing her fingers up to the bandages covering her right eye. Her fingers tremble and her throat closes up and she feels like crying, and she just might. Her eye felt a heat growing from the center and rushing to the front before she willed the hot tears away in favor of keeping an eye on you; literally.

Maki let her arm drop as her other one came up to swat you in the back of your head. It was harder than she wanted it to be, as you'd brought your hand up to where she swatted and rubbed it painfully, whining quietly at the throbbing in your scalp.

"Come on. We're going to the Zenin Estate," Maki demands, not even waiting for your upcoming protest before she turns on her heel and struts away. Your head lifts up slowly like your bones have rusted, you find Maki in just enough time to watch her turn the corner and—now she's out of sight, out of mind. You put your head back down thinking she'll leave you alone upon realizing you still haven't gotten up, until she storms back in with a noticeable frown, the left side of her nose crinkling as her eyebrow pushes towards the middle of her forehead covered by off white bandages.

"Come on," she hisses, and the demanding tone in her voice lifts your head, and the rest of your body, up like a spell. The need to follow her stirred in your gut as your feet shuffled on the floor. Your shoes dragged against the tiles, barely picking your feet up, nearly moonwalking across the room to reach Maki who'd already turned the corner again.

You reached the hallway Maki had favored over that dull and bland room, the lightbulbs were smashed, leaving the hallway dim and shadowy with the only source of light being on the other side that Maki was stepping towards to. You shuffled along that, the darkened bricks hidden by shadows and the lack of light judging you with silent glares like walking through the Hall of Shame.

When you emerged from the shadows of the small hall, Yuji and Megumi and Yuta all looked up and turned to face you. Their faces were all the same upon seeing your arrival; disappointed. You couldn't blame them.

Silence filled the air as you all stood and sat there, almost on pause while you looked around and noticed Maki wasn't in there. Your heart dropped like you were on a roller coaster, lungs shrinking and thrashing for air as you looked at each door on either side of the room trying to guess which one Maki was behind. Then she was in your field of vision again, now without a hoodie but her black sleeveless turtleneck and her cape. You internally admired the cape, as it was fitting for her, then looked back up at her eye which was glaring back at you—with a twinge of regret in her iris.

"We'll be back," she tells to the rest of the peanut gallery sitting in the room, looking at the boys indifferently. They all nodded briefly, Maki's one-eyes gazed shifted back to you and lifted her visible eyebrow.

"Come on," she demands again, turning away and opening the door to step out. She does little to hold it open for you, letting you get it yourself. You pry open the relatively dense door, shoving it and trekking your way down the narrow hallway which had only one light on one side.

"Why are we going to the Zenin estate?" You question, lifting an eyebrow. Maki reaches around to her hip and twirls a thing of keys around her finger before catching them with her hand, latching it back onto her belt.

"We're going to the weapons closet, if you weren't listening from earlier."

"Well forgive me for having other things I'd rather be doing than listen to you talk about some cursed tools."

"Like what? Painting the streets red with blood?"

Maki's retort silenced you, the words caught in your throat. All of them bunched together caused a knot to form in your esophagus, having no choice but to force them all back down and to keep quiet. Maki felt a bit proud of herself for having shushed you, and visibly so as she added a bit of sass to her step.

________________________________

It seemed as though the years had passed slowly, like time was dragging its feet on the carpet and made people seemingly more miserable. Narrow, unforgiving eyes watching never ending turning of the earth had grown sunken. Pursed lips usually plump and full of life were pale and dry like plants going through a drought, as well as the skin which was (unbelievably) at one point smooth and warm. Now the skin that covers the man was coarse and cold with heavy actions weighing down in his pores.

The air was as cold as he was. The wind was blowing viciously, sending wind chimes thrashing to and fro in violent gusts. Watching from outside made it look more intense than what it really was, the man's eyes staring at the wind chimes dancing in the aggressive wind. Unfortunately it was just the air conditioning that made the room so cold; Isamu wondered if the people of the Zenin clan were cold blooded animals disguised as humans lurking in cold rooms at the end of fall.

No Naobito was present; he was somewhere around the estate suffering from burn wounds he'd gotten from Shibuya. For some reason Isamu had been called up to the Zenin estate and discuss the future of a clan he had no part in. The room—unfortunately—was occupied with a man who seemed to be the closest human being to a werewolf with how much hair covered him, Isamu assumed it was because of a lack of hygiene. The other few were both men as well; Naoya, whose face was indifferent and even grumpy and another dude who Isamu never bothered to ask the name of.

"Hatake-san," the werewolf lookalike started. Isamu glanced disapprovingly at him, his lip slightly curled in disdain. "Yes?"

"The sass isn't necessary. You're a Jujutsu Higher Up, yes?"

"I figured that's why I was summoned here," Isamu tsks—actually tsks comically—in disapproval and crosses his arms. He leans back in the seat he was sitting in and touches his back to the wall. The werewolf lookalike purses his lips at the tone coming from Isamu, and he lets out a small disapproving exhale.

"It's been outlawed to unseal Satoru Gojo, as he's been permanently exiled, correct?"

"That and any active plans to unseal him. Penalty is execution," he answers, letting that statement hang in the air. Naoya and the other man look at each other momentarily, conversing silently with their eyes before Naoya looks at Isamu.

"Fushiguro Megumi has plans to unseal Satoru Gojo, correct?"

"I assume so," Isamu sighs softly, as he expects the other men to already know what his answer will be, "he's Fushiguro Megumi's benefactor."

Naoya clicks his tongue just like Isamu did earlier, turning away and looking back at Jinichi—the Sasquatch—as well as Isamu.

"Are you aware of any others who have active plans to unseal Satoru Gojo?"

"No," he nibbles on his bottom lip for a moment. He lets his answer hang in the air, his teeth nagging at the flesh on his lip and his head swimming with ideas on what to say next. He gets the urge to scratch his head comically but he ignores it, instead shifting in his seat.

Isamu gets the idea that with Yuta bringing you in alive, that you may potentially possess plans to unseal Gojo as well. He suspects it—although there's no solid evidence of that, and therefore that's not enough to put another bounty on you. He finishes nibbling on his lip, his tongue gently rubbing the spot where his teeth wreaked their havoc on his flesh and signified he was done thinking.

"I suspect other Jujutsu Tech students have plans as well. Okkotsu Yuta turned in both Itadori Yuji and Hatake Y/n to collect the bounty. Okkotsu made a binding vow to execute Itadori Yuji...but he was insistent on burying the boy himself. I suspect he lied and somehow managed to keep him alive. As for Hatake...—"

"The Hatake child is another problem. Your suspicion of Okkotsu Yuta and Itadori Yuji?"

Isamu crinkles his nose shortly, glaring at Jinichi. His cheek twitches when his eyes land on the man's face, certainly not a sight to behold with the amount of hair and scars covering it. Isamu presses his tongue to the roof of his mouth before letting out a quiet breath, rolling his eyes.

"You underestimate that child," Isamu states, sitting up in his seat. "They certainly are another problem; bigger than Okkotsu and Itadori. I do suspect they also have plans—or at least intentions of that sort. Seeing that Hatake is held responsible for the killings of hundreds of people during the Shibuya Incident, they're rendered a bigger nuisance than Okkotsu or Itadori, and plans to unseal Satoru Gojo make them an enemy to the Jujutsu world."

The room is silent for a moment. The three Zenins in the room looking at each other like they don't know what to do with that information irks Isamu, unfortunately giving him the idea that their brains are much too slow to comprehend what he just said. And in light of that suggestion, he clears his throat to break the silence, and draws their attention.

"In other words, I can't outlaw them unless I have solid evidence like their killings. Jujutsu Regulations demand I have concrete proof of their plans and I can't find that out unless I encounter them."

"So what are you to do about that?" Naoya interjects, moving his arm and resting his cheek on his knuckles and looking at Isamu. The older man pays no mind to Naoya, opting to keep his gaze at the speck of dirt on his knee.

"I have no idea where they are now," he finally announces. He flicks the small speck off his knee with his middle finger, keeping his lidded gaze on his kneecap instead of looking around at the men who look at each other in confusion and irritation. "Someone is to find them, though, and bring them to me—"

"I'll find them," Naoya immediately insisted, earning a judgmental glance. Isamu stares at Naoya with an unreadable expression, his eyelids hooded and his own pupils looking unpleasant to gaze at. He lifts a judgmental eyebrow at Naoya as if to ask with disgust why he's so certain on finding you. He lets out a huff despite, crossing his legs and shifting his weight onto his arm.

"If you're so insistent on finding them," he murmurs with a slight roll of his eyes and a quiet scoff with a puff of his cheeks. "Then you are free to do so."

Naoya felt a sense of pride grow and fester in his chest at the approval of the higher up, a cheeky grin creeping up his lips at the essence of someone of Isamu's rank recognizing his capability to search and capture such an outlaw. He internally promised himself that he'd bring you to Isamu with you over his shoulder and barely a heart to pump the shriveled up blood through your veins if it would make him proud.

He stood up from his seat. All bare minimum respect Naoya had previously held for you flew out the window once he was granted permission to go about this conquest. The other men shifted their gazes to Naoya as they watched him stand there before he silently dismissed himself to his own office that had been appointed to him once he became Head of the Hei.

"Their body is yours to bury with your own hands, Hatake-san."

________________________________

There was a slight limp in your step, from the improperly healed hip bone.

The Zenin estate hadn't changed since you last stayed. The walls were still painted a bland manilla color, some areas on the walls the paint was chipped and discolored, going to show how little the members care for their own home. The atmosphere surrounding it was still eery and unpleasant to stand in. The gravel crunched under your feet as you and Maki both approached the entrance gate.

Not many words were said between you two. In fact, it was silent the whole time. You had not one thing that was about to roll off your tongue that would soothe you and Maki's situation, so you kept quiet. The silence was deafening, in response. There were plenty of words Maki wanted to say and they all hung in the air like clothes being air dried, but she never said them. She figured you weren't going to listen to a thing she said in the midst of your own self pity so she kept quiet to save her the dissatisfaction of being ignored.

The silence was growing irksome. Listening to shoes crunch gravel for the thirty meters to the entrance. You could've swore it was shorter when you were walking this exact same route of gravel last year. But the year was long, and the occurrence of the falling out with Maki and the incident in Shibuya, the number of lives lost to your blade seemed to lengthen the trail to make the silence agonizingly slow. The air only got thicker the closer you got to those giant doors; the ominous dark brown disguised as black at under the dark gray clouds forming in the air growing larger as the distance between you and the mere 5 inches of wood grew shorter.

Maki's hand—visibly the only part of her body you could see that wasn't afflicted by the fire—rested on the gold knob. The cold metal sent a quick shiver down her spine—not long enough to stun her but short enough to make her head shake in an automatic response. She pulled it down before pushing the door open. The sound of wood scraping against asphalt scratched her ears and hers and your auditory systems uncomfortably, your eyes squinting slightly at the unpleasant noise similar to TV static.

You looked to the left and found a well that definitely wasn't there last year. Someone must've added renovations to the estate; that doorknob went down more smoothly when Maki pushed it than it did when you were leaving, and much more quiet and neat in contrast to the old and faded silver one. Gravel was also lined along where there were stepping stones that let symmetrically right and left to different sides of the estate. Whereas last year it was grass.

Something in your stomach gets the feeling that something bad will happen—you can't put your finger on what it is or when it'll happen, but the weary, uneasy feeling stirring in your gut like a stomach bug makes you lightheaded. Maybe it's the air pressure around you that's practically oozing with cursed energy; it only seems to be getting stronger the further in you two go. You aren't sure if Maki feels it—she's probably hiding it if she does; she hides everything: her sadness, her fear, her stress. It's hidden behind nooks and crannies that only a select few people know where to look.

Maki makes a sharp turn down some hallway which you assumed was an important stop because her steps were much more frequent than earlier. You listened to how lightly they hit the floor (which by now you both were walking on hardwood) and figured she was impatient.

You catch up with her to find her standing in the doorway of some office which you've never been to before, watching stare at whoever's in it with narrowed eyes. You listen to her and the other voice—who you concluded was Naoya's when you poked your head around the corner—talk and the phrase 'Your face, which was your only saving grace, is now ruined. How are you ever gonna find a man to help support you? What're you gonna do now, Maki-chan?' in his trademark smug voice caught your ears and you figured you just might blow from the anger that dug your nails into your palms hard enough to form crescents on your skin.

"You can worry about your own damn self! Maki doesn't have a man to 'support' her because she doesn't fucking need it!" You yelled once you turned fully from the corner to face Naoya with a scowl, crows feet forming around the corners of your eyes as they narrowed, your jaw clenching tightly.

Naoya's eye twitched when he finally saw you. From when you first set foot in a mile radius of the estate he felt your presence, though he wasn't certain you were heading here, and that's why he was in his office: getting ready to hunt you down.

He narrowed his eyes and scoffed.

"It's so like you to defend this trash. If you care so much then you can support her yourself, dyke."

"That's why you don't have a fucking wife! Cuz no woman fucking wants you, you piece of chicken shit!"

"That's enough!" Maki yanked at your arm once she saw Naoya stand up from his chair with a scowl mirroring yours, his fist clenched and his nose twitching. Maki pulled you behind her in a swift move to keep you from further stirring the pot, glaring at you for a moment before turning to Naoya.

"Don't instigate, asshole," she grunted, tilting her head slightly at him. He rolled his eyes and released his balled up fist, sighing to release the tension in his chest and sitting back down in his chair.

"I'm lonely. Shall I bully you like I used to?"

"You have a lot to say about bullying for someone who got his shit rocked by a kid last week," you grumbled, earning a look from Naoya as he moved his head to glare at you from behind Maki, who pushed you further back with her arm.

"Anyways. I'm heading to the weapon's closet; the clan head gave me the green light," Maki moved so her hand was gripping your forearm tightly, wincing at how her skin roughly rubs against yours. Naoya scoffed again as he watched you and Maki with disgust filling his gaze, his lip lifted judgmentally.

"I bet you won't find anything there," he calls, turning in his chair to face his desk. You flip him off with both your hands, throwing them around in the air and rolling them around each other before raising them closer into his office.

Maki yanked you by your arm once again after regaining her grip on it, tugging you away from Naoya's doorway and walking down the hall.

She released you once you both were far away from the office, turning her head to give you a dirty look as if to scold you silently. A tug in her heart stopped the words from climbing up her throat; her skin felt warm as she thinks about how quick you were to defend her even when she didn't need it and how close you were to fighting Naoya for her. She instead internally scolded herself for overthinking your actions and brushed it aside as you wanting to take your anger out on him (which she would've done the same thing if it were that serious), turning her head away to keep moving forward.

Your hand rubbed the sore patch of skin on your forearm, soothing it with the warmth of your palm. Your heart sunk when you saw how visibly irritated Maki was that you said all that to Naoya (that part which you couldn't comprehend but it's probably beyond you). Your gaze drifted over to Maki, watching her walk slightly further ahead than you in a silent hurry to the cursed tool warehouse. You looked at the burn scars on her face—really looked at them for once and felt a harsh pang in your heart for knowing that it was the result of your own selfishness that caused her so much pain. Even when she said she was fine, you knew it was true physically, but you weren't blind to the glint in her eye stained with disappointment that this was what she had to live with for the rest of her life. Maki never said it, though you and every other person who knew her well knew that a piece of her actually missed being...easy to look at. Though your mind can't understand why, it would take much barging from Yuta to get the truth (which you promised yourself you would do later on).

The rest of the walk was quiet. Neither of you had anything to say that would make the tension less awkward between you both. The words stayed caught on your twisted tongues but the connotation was hung in the air. Maki's anger and your regret and self loathing for all that has happened. Maki's anger for...where would she even begin...being lied to, being left behind even when she was the one who said for you to leave, anger for watching your back turn to her while she was dying. Anger at herself for not initially listening to you.

Your regret for being the liar, for letting yourself be lazy and let Maki believe that you could've been something wonderful in her heart. Your self hatred for letting yourself fall away instead of turning to her. Your heart would be mended with the bandages that would be her acceptance and reassurance and your soul would be at ease. You would be at ease, instead of the constant fear in the back of your head that is slowly becoming a reality that this is what your relationship with Maki will permanently be: strained, distant, cold. Instead of the never ending shaking of your hands from the anxiety of being seen and heard of as a curse, the fear of being looked at and in the gaze of spectators they see something ugly, and that it will stay that way forever even after your death when your grave is graffitied with slurs and insults on your headstone.

You shook your head to free yourself from your own headspace when Maki pushes open a loud door leading to a giant hallway, the walls laid with bricks, cracked and discolored from years passing by and the air drying up over them. Ceiling lights occasionally flickered over your heads as you and Maki walked through. Your footsteps were damp, seeing that the ground was somehow wet (probably from water damage somewhere), and echoed around the ominous walls. It was almost empty and silent. Almost.

A woman was standing to the side about halfway to the door on the other end of the corridor; you'd think she's something out of one of those weird paintings or from some creepypasta with how she ominously stood out. A beige kimono, dark hair, and an expression you can't make out (but you figured was a scowl) was her look. You could tell she parted her lips to say something, as you'd heard the echo from her drawing a breath as you and Maki got closer to the door, which the woman seemed to be weary of.

"Maki...what are you doing here? Go back," she hissed upon watching Maki approach her and the door. Maki simply dug into her pocket and pulled out a ring and a bunch of keys attached to it, swinging it around on her finger.

"Going through the cursed tool warehouse. Clan head said it was alright—"

"I said go back!"

A chill ran up your spine once the woman shrieked. The echo of her shrill voice bounced off the walls and rang irritatingly in your ears. You covered them with your hands for a moment in case anymore banshee sound waves decided to take a trip down to your eardrums, and then let them down once you felt Maki's arm brush past your sleeve. A chill went down both your spines this time; goosebumps broke out on yours and Maki's skin. Your breath hitched while Maki shivered in silence.

Clearly you both went anyways, Maki bringing the key up to unlock the warehouse, only to find it was unlocked already. You frowned as you sensed a sudden shift in the air, and you put your hand on the door, stopping in front of her.

"Don't go in there," you whispered, not daring to let the strange woman know that her suspicions were right and that something bad is waiting beyond that door. Maki looks at you, her eye narrowed. For a moment she considered listening to you for once and not going in, but her pride got the best of her and considering that she had to argue with Megumi(who presumably is just as stubborn as Maki is) for these damn keys and put up with Naoya's bullshit and even dragged you out here, she was not turning back around.

"Move," Maki shoved your hand away from the door. "If you don't wanna go in there, that's fine. But don't bring me down, too."

You were about to sulk at how deeply Maki's words hit you, about to turn away and clutch your sleeve and try not to cry at the reality that you've already brought her down enough just by letting her fall within two inches of her own life. But another presence, familiar and unpleasant ticked your brain. Your head shot to face the left side of the hallway from your perspective, which was now seemingly darker. You found your legs involuntarily wandering towards the hallway in between the walls on the left side, leaving Maki to wonder what was wrong as you began jogging towards the corner and disappearing behind the stone.

The pressure increased the further you walked. Your footsteps damply echoed and bounced off the walls which were starting to be infested with mildew and mold. Such little light was given through the hall that the only source was coming from the other end where dull lamps hung from hooks on the ceilings covering the breezeway. Your heart began racing in your chest and your brain began screaming at you that this was your gut feeling that something bad was about to happen, not only to you, but to someone else as well. The amount of cursed energy you could feel pouring off of whoever was waiting gave you a clue as you turned a corner and found an open door on the side of the wall that went left.

You stood outside of it silently. Evidently you couldn't see beyond the wall, but your eyes were fixated on a certain spot on it that was in place of whoever was sitting there. Your heart raced faster and faster, thumping harshly against your ribcage as if trying to break free and run away. Adrenaline rushed through your veins. Your breath grew short. Your legs felt like jelly yet your feet were stuck to the hardwood floor, your toes curling to get away.

As your eyes—widened and sharp with your anger practically fuming out of them—watched the shape of the soul behind the wall begin to stand out of its spot, your breath caught in your throat. You felt as if your heart would surely pump out of your throat and spew onto the floor, forcing you to choke on your own blood as it poured out of your lips and drained the life out of your body. Goosebumps broke out on your skin as the figure moved past the wall and stopped right as its gaze landed on you, staring down at you through the hooded eyelids and covering the top half of its eyeballs.

You found yourself face to face with Isamu once again.

Your heart almost stopped as you looked up at him. His face changed drastically, but you still recognized him after a few seconds of staring into those cold black eyes seemingly devoid of any life. His lips were sealed, like they'd ran out of things to say to you once he gave you away to this godforsaken clan. You almost thought he didn't recognize you (which you wouldn't be surprised if he didn't after not seeing you for so long) until he tilted his head at you, his eyes hardening.

"Naoya isn't very good at his job, I see."

One would've thought that Isamu would have a change of heart over the last nine years. Maybe guilt would've been eating at him all the time he'd spent without his own daughter. You'd only seen him happy one time and you couldn't even remember it. The man standing before you seems so stone faced all the time like he's a statue or even a gargoyle. A gargoyle more fitting for him—the shadow casted over his face from his hair painting an ominous picture of him. His never ending glare would send chills down anyone who was trapped in his medusa-like gaze for too long, perhaps trapping them in place out of fear. He looked too much like how men are depicted in articles and Wheel of Fugitives.

"What?"

"He left a short while ago to linger in that thing he calls an office to supposedly wait for you and some other people to arrive," Isamu turned his head to the corner, where the previous hallway started to the much bigger corridor leading to the cursed tool warehouse. "For you to have come here through that hallway you would've passed his office already. I don't see why he didn't take that opportunity when he had it right at his doorstep."

"You sent that bastard to find me?!" Your anger spiked and your heart set off again, pounding like a flag had been waved for the muscle to drive in a Nascar race.

"You watch your tone, child," Isamu turned his eyes back to you sharply, glaring at you like a speck of dirt on his shoe. "You're lucky I don't strike you down where you stand and leave you a bloodstain on that floor."

"You'd kill your own daughter?" You hissed, your fists balling up until your nails began digging into your skin, causing blood to flow down the creases in your palms and leaking through the cracks between your fingers. "Wasn't selling me already enough?"

"Don't question my morals. I was the one who issued the bounty on you."

You almost felt your heart jump out of your throat like you had the premonition of earlier. Your nails dug further into your palms and your breath grew shorter as your body trembled. Not with any sort of fear or anxiety or sadness at the fact your own father issued a bounty and permitted a goddamn execution over you. The anger racking in your brain turned into a rage that leaked more blood from the crescents in your hands, your teeth grinding so hard you felt a molar crack from the pressure.

Without thinking twice, your arm twisted back and threw a mean hook at Isamu's cheek while it was still facing you, listening to the sound of the pop coming from his skull. He shuffled in his spot but never stumbled or lost his balance. His lips stay pursed as his fingers rubbed his cracked and dislocated jaw, eventually popping it back into place as he listened to you shout your anger into his ears.

"You bastard! You sent my own goddamn friend after me! Your own damn orders got a hole in my fucking hip and now I'm damn near crippled because of you!"

You threw another punch onto Isamu's jaw, one that didn't go unanswered. His eyes shifted over to you as his own knuckles met your chin in an uppercut, a sharp pain shocking your entire skull. You were caught in your few seconds of shock as Isamu landed a swift punch against your gut, putting cursed energy into his fist and sending you flying back to the end of the breezeway, tumbling back against the wall.

You coughed and gasped for breath as your back hit the wall violently. You were sure the impact cracked a rib or two as an almost blinding pain stemmed from your back, your hand holding your side as you slowly got up, your lungs still burning for air. Your body shook against the wall. A cord being struck in your brain warned you that Isamu was coming for you, forcing you to swing your head to the side to avoid getting your skull bashed into the wall.

The impact from his raw fist landing in the concrete wall tore the skin open over his knuckles, blood staining the damaged paint and his own skin. Isamu clenched his jaw and ignored the sting in his knuckles before turning his head and finding a blank space where you used to be.

He narrowed his eyes and retracted his fist from the wall, standing idly and looking around the complex of the breezeway. His eyes carefully scanned over every door and wall you could've hidden behind, searching for your cursed presence as he breathed deeply. Isamu's cursed technique, which you'd inherited from him, came out and reached around the complex and strikes through all the lamps hanging on the hooks, making it darker underneath the dark gray clouds. He caught a drop of rain landing against the fence of the veranda. The slight shift in attention was enough time for you to come up behind him and perform an inside crescent kick against his head, sending him tumbling against the fence. As his old and labored body hit the wood, your hands grabbed him by his hair and began bashing his forehead against the bar of the fence, his blood splatters mixing with the drizzling rain coming down over the complex.

Isamu gathered the strength to keep his head from meeting the fence one more time before he was sure you'd split his skull. He nearly used all his strength to push his head back up until your hands slid off the strands of his hair, snapping his head back so it could clash with your forehead. A crack came from your skull from the impact of your heads bashing, your brain spinning for a moment before Isamu whipped around and threw a punch to your temple.

Your shoulder hit the wall, a nasty pop dislocating the bone out of its socket. A blood curdling scream rippled from your throat. Isamu grabbed you by your shirt and threw you over the fence, the wood hitting you right in your stomach as you toppled over it and hitting the ground harshly. Blood streaked out of the corner of your mouth as you lay there weakly. Your already weakened hip was aching after landing on it from being thrown over the veranda.

Your cursed technique came out, a shadow of a sword forming in your hand. You listened to Isamu's shoes trekking against the dirt, his breaths coming out in quiet huffs as he looked down at you almost pitifully. He summoned his own sword in his hand, keeping it in his grasp as he stared downward, taking in the sight of your labored body on the ground, blood leaking from your mouth and staining the specks of dirt.

You turned your head so you could side eye him, the muscles in your eyes straining from turning so far.

"If you're gonna kill me just like you always wanted to...now's your goddamn chance."

Isamu stood there silently for a moment, contemplating the opportunities appearing in his head like counting sheep. His eyes scanned over your mangled body, the rib bone poking out of your skin covered in blood. After what felt like an eternity of life-draining silence, he stuck the blade of his sword into the dirt and summoned a shadowy cross. You couldn't see it, but different pieces of rope were summoned in his hand before he walked over to you and grabbed you by your good arm, yanking you up and dragging you up to the cross.

Isamu took your hand and pulled it up to one side of it, your eyes widening and your heart racing in your chest once you got an idea of what he was doing. You looked over at his face, noticing the chipped tooth you gave him and felt a sense of pride swirling in your gut.

"What, you gonna nail me to the cross?" You spat out a small puddle of blood onto the ground before the cross, watching it stain a part of the wood.

"Not nailing you, foolish child," Isamu grumbled as he took the rope and tied a knot around your wrist and the wood, double knotting it in case you do break free before he permits it. He went on to do the other arm, instantly sucking your teeth at the sharp pain in your elbow as he extended your arm to the other side, tying your wrist to the wood. This piece of rope was longer than the other one, seemingly long enough to wrap around your throat and hold your body against the cross before he stepped back.

"I'm not killing you," he started, bringing his hand up to his mouth and nipping his thumb with his teeth until they drew blood. "I'm forcing you to kill yourself."

Isamu approached you, the blood on his thumb being used to mark a line down your forehead and to the bridge of your nose before drawing across just before your eyebrows. You concluded he was placing yet another curse on you, as you felt your heart begin to grow heavier in your chest and connecting it to whatever incantation he was whispering.

"Your heart will be 'broken.' Meaning your heart is weak, your breath shall be short and your bones will begin rotting from this moment forth. The pain in your chest will become unbearable if left alone for too long, and your ribcage will be split open by the curse placed upon you, and you'll be erased from everyone's memories. Everyone who ever knew you will forget you."

Isamu turned his head back towards the hall which you came from. He narrowed his eyes, almost as if he knew that Maki was somewhere down that way and came to a conclusion for his manipulation.

"Even that girl you hold so dearly to that filth you call a heart."

Tears almost welled up in your eyes as your ears caught his words. Your brain processed the depth of the situation—you'd be erased from everyone's memories. Maki, Yuta, Shoko, Gojo. You'd be forgotten by everyone. There'd be no proof of your existence except your room back at the school, which you were sure was trashed by other people in the Jujutsu world. Part of you felt relieved. Maki would forget about all the pain you caused her. She'd forget that you turning your back on her was the reason she was left to be burned alive. She'd forget why there was a hole in her chest that nobody else seemed to fill. Another part of you wanted to keep living. To know that Maki and all the others still remembered you in the back of their minds.

Isamu pressed his thumb against your aching forehead, the touch nearly rattling your brain and shaking your conscience.

"That being said...you'll fight and kill everyone in your path, and let their blood feed the curse sprouting in your heart until you are gone."

Isamu released the ropes and the cross, the shadows dissipating into thin air. He steps away, his head tilting upwards. Nowhere in his heart did he feel any remorse for what he's doing. No regret, no shame, no guilt. His philosophy is solidified and his choices have been made without a second doubt about it. Whether this will affect him negatively or positively depends on if he cares; and frankly, he does not.

Your breath picked up, each inhale getting harder and harder to take. You wondered if it was the effect of the curse or if it was your own panic settling in your stomach that made you want to throw up. You felt tears welling up in your bottom eyelids, blurring your eyesight. You felt a sharp pain in your knees; you realized you'd fallen straight from the cross when it faded away. You breathed heavily, your vision blurring out. Your voice cracks as the tears begin rolling down your cheeks. Every bad thing possible you could think of couldn't match up to this. You didn't want it. You couldn't bring yourself to kill Maki, much less fight her. You couldn't let yourself sit around and die on your own and be erased from her memories. Having that cursed placed upon you made you realize how much you didn't want to die.

________________________________

A muffled crash came from the outside of the cursed tool warehouse. A man, different from Isamu, with longer hair tied back into a ponytail and beady eyes. His shadow stood over the stairwell leading to the floor of the discipline room, looming over the two nearly lifeless bodies lying flat against it.

He turns his head around in the direction where the crash came from, an eyebrow raising as he contemplates going after it to see what's going on. His mind is changed when he hears the faint rustling of clothes against tile, his head whipping back around to face his two daughters on the floor.

"The curses in here are scared of me now," he looks around the room, a pause. He looks back down at Maki and Mai, a look of disgust shadowing over his face. "But soon enough they'll come out to eat you."

Maki was unconscious, her still body lying on the white floor. Her shadow was cast onto the large tiles from the light escaping to the room from the corridor outside. Mai was sitting—no, looming over her with her hand on Maki's chest. Her heartbeat was still going; albeit, weak. Mai clicked her tongue as she exhaled sharply, looking around the room. Her father left to see what the crash was when a wave of cursed energy practically washed over the entire Zenin estate.

Mai sighed again, clenching her jaw as she hesitantly leaned down. Mai knew you were somewhere around the estate; she wished you were here right now to be the one to wake Maki up.

"Tough as always," Mai scoffed, shaking her head as she leaned further down until her face hovered over Maki's. Her breath fanned over the damaged skin, the burn wounds that welted onto Maki's body. A shiver went up her spine, unpleasantly. The next breath that came out was in the form of a fog; Mai's skin was going cold. She was dying, she concluded. The ugly truth.

Sand roughly caressed Maki's skin—her arms, getting in her nails and in her hair. The element got between her toes and slightly tickled her feet. A gust of warm air jolted her awake, and her eyes peeled open to find herself looking up at a blue sky, not a cloud in sight. The sun shone brightly in her eyes and stung her retinas, making her look away.

Next to her was Mai sitting with her feet flat on the sand and her knees propped up. Her elbow rested on one of them, her palm supported her cheek. She was staring at the water ahead of them, seemingly waiting for Maki to wake up and come to her senses.

"You're a real dumbass, you know," Mai glanced at Maki with a tinge of hardness in her eyes reserved only for her. Maki sat up instantly at the sound of Mai's voice, like a command of her full attention. She straightens her posture and toughs out the cool water splashing against her bare feet.

"I don't have much longer left. I'm suffering from my wounds that father gave us. After I make this thing for you, I'm gone."

"What?"

Mai stood up from her spot. No sand was stuck to her dress, to Maki's surprise. A tug in her heart pulled her to her feet as well. An incredulous expression waved over Maki's face like window curtains pulled to show the outside. She watched Mai with a wide eye as she strolled into the water. Confusion took over her as she curled an eyebrow.

"The fuck are you talking about?" Maki frowned as she took a step into the water. An uncomfortable coldness splashed on her skin and sent a shiver up her spine, goosebumps appearing on her skin. "What thing? Doesn't matter. Get back over here."

"I finally figured out why twins are a sin in the Jujutsu world," Mai stopped in the water when it was up to her shins. Maki's face pulled into another confused frown as she silently waited for what else she was to hear. The conflict of all her emotions were causing a malfunction in her lips. They wouldn't part because she had all too much and nothing to say at all.

"As long as I'm around, Maki, you'll always be half-assed."

"Mai, wait—"

"If you ever do see them after this, don't tell anyone else," Mai added. Her own face scrunched up into a soft frown—not like Maki's. The creases in her forehead didn't carry an aggressive path in the ripples of her skin. Her eyes weren't rough anymore. The clarity of her fate was settling over her shoulders. She had nothing in her power to do what was to come of her. "I don't think you and Y/n were ever supposed to meet."

A weightless thing in Mai's hand appeared suddenly. Her wrist flicked and showed in the palm of her hand a small flower. She looked down at it. She had to will away the tears about to gloss over her eyes and blur the vision she had of what would come next. She closed her fist and shifted the flower up to her fingers, extending her arm out towards Maki for her to take it. A weight dropped on Maki's heart as she came forward and took the flower in her gentle grasp.

"When I leave," Mai started, turning her head to look at Maki. "Destroy everything, big sister. Everything."

Maki felt like she was knocked off her feet again. The feeling was worse than before when she was facing her father. It was like being on a roller coaster or falling into that curse's mouth just a year ago. Her stomach churned and her heart felt like it was being inflated from adrenaline pumping in her veins. The feeling of her consciousness hitting the cold hard floor was like hitting wet cement. She felt as if every bone had shattered in her body.

Maki found herself curled into a fetal position, mirroring Mai in front of her. Blood was trickling down from her nose; her skin looked pale. More than usual, at least. Maki had the premonition that she wasn't breathing. She thought right.

"Mai, wake up," Maki whispered. A weight in her hand settled on her palm. She looked down to find a sword was in her grasp. A moment was taken for her to process the weight and the situation and the sword and the lifeless silence of her sister before she figured out it was a replica of the Soul Spit Katana.

"Wake up!"

________________________________

You fell from the ropes, landing roughly before your hands could catch you or at the very least break the fall. The sudden change in altitude and the speed of your fall made you feel lightheaded. You were hyperventilating, you realized when your chest felt continuously empty no matter how many breaths of air you try to take. Panic was swirling in your ribcage, squeezing your lungs and forbidding you from taking any oxygen. The claws of anxiety and fear were ripping at the seams of your heart. You figured it was the effect of the curse. The conclusion dissipated out of your mind's eye as quickly as it came from the lack of oxygen in your brain.

Your skin felt like it was on fire, burning hot to the touch to incinerate anyone who came too close. The heat spread to your face; flames of anger licked your skin and made your arms tremble. Tears salty from the ugly taste of resentment lingering on your tongue left what felt like streaks of lava as they rolled down to your chin. Your heart hammered in your chest, thrashing and slamming against your ribcage which you felt would surely shatter from the pressure. A million and one thoughts raced around the matter of your brain, all of them being images of Isamu's body laying lifeless to your hands in one way or another.

Your nails dug into the dirt under your palms. Your breath shook as you picked yourself up. All your conflicting emotions, all the thoughts swarming in your head, all the curses in the world couldn't stop you from getting the urge to rip him apart until only his blood vessels stained the soil. It was his fault. The pain of being thrown into the chains of the Zenin clan, the pressure of his hatred pressing your lips shut and forcing you into silence even when the words you wanted to say were suffocating you. It was his fault.

The weight of a sword fell into your hand. Wind blew into your eyes and made them water. The swiftness of your feet dashing across the estate to reach Isamu where he'd been planning to leave left no footprints. Adrenaline raced through your veins at a breakneck speed. The pace of your sword cutting through the air was even faster, cutting right into Isamu's shoulder blade. The result of your purposeful miss was him turning to find your sword right in front of his eyes, his own blood dripping from the blade. The crimson red was barely visible against the void color and the shadows clouding around it.

His heart raced in his chest as he formed a katana for himself, swinging his arms to strike back. His age seemed to catch up to his speed. Your head ducked away from his blade cutting through the atmosphere. You turned your sword and drove it through his torso, piercing his pancreas. Blood curdled the scream ripping through Isamu's throat, spilling out from his mouth and staining his teeth an evil red, dripping down his jaw and to his chin. The bottom of your shoe met the other side of his stomach, kicking him back. The katana he made fell from his grip, landing on the pavement with a sharp clang.

His back hit the asphalt. The sound and the commotion of the fight alerted other members of the Zenin clan which came rushing out to watch you stick your sword into Isamu's shoulder. You were quick to send shadows after them to strangle them and rip through their throats, making them drop to the ground. Blood got onto your pants and your shoes. The racing of your heart went even faster, like you were getting a kick from seeing him in pain. The iron scent of his blood filled the air, permeating your nostrils and making your nose twitch.

"Doesn't feel good being bullied and beaten to silence, does it, dad?"

Your chest rises and falls quickly. Your jaw clenches. The muscles contract in your arms, twitching and itching to strike him again as you listen to the silence that comes from Isamu. The only thing you expected from him. But the disappointment was growing nonetheless. The hope that he dared speak up would leave you all too happy and satisfied to beat him until he knew not to utter another word, to give you the satisfaction of force feeding him the hell he once shoved down your throat.

Too much blood was in his mouth for him to speak. A result of all the bad blood he stirred.

"What's wrong? Can't talk anymore?" You raised your arm, pulling your sword out of Isamu's shoulder. A spark of joy tainted your face as you smiled gleefully down at him, at the pathetic look on him.

"This is good, dad," you pop your knuckles as you stick the blade in his thigh, eliciting another wail of pain with an undertone of anger in his voice. You shook your head as you listened to the resentment behind his screaming, pulling the blade out and sticking it in his hip.

"You don't get to be angry at me!"

Your throat itches from how loud you'd raised your voice. You could look at this forever: the sight of Isamu laying there before you, helpless with the carnage done to his body. The blood you hated so much had seeped onto the pavement and melted into the cracks.

"You sold me! You gave me away! You forced me into this hellhole! Do you know how long I wondered what was so wrong about me that you sold me?! Wondering what was wrong with me?! I was a servant! I was a servant in my own home! Why?! Is your life so bad that you can't lift a finger to do things around your own house so you make your child do them for you?! And when you think about my efforts to make you see that I'm more than a thing to you, you make me someone else's thing?! You made my life a living hell! Everyone else had a dad and I had men to serve! You sold me here as a weapon and a slave and nothing more! Bullied me down until I had no human value to be seen! And when you're finally paying the price for your actions, you're angry?!"

Isamu's eyes were filled with fear. His irises reflected the length of your blade raising in your hand. The silhouette of your face would be the last thing he sees.

"You can burn yourself in hell with that anger!"

Blood splattered from Isamu's skull. The metal of your sword was messy from muscles and veins getting caught on it. Pink matter from his brains splattered onto the curve of the blade. You felt your stomach churn at the sight of it, but the satisfaction, the weight being lifted off your shoulders outdid the nausea. You stood there, staring at the lifeless body on the pavement. The carnage had been done. The feud between you and him was over. You tried to overturn the guilt creeping up in you by looking on the 'bright side' and thinking that you were free from him. But the curse was still there. You were still dying.

Voices of other Zenin clan members were echoing through the walls, getting louder as they were getting closer. You looked at the other members on the pavement, their blood mixing together into a messed up puddle. Your breath hitched as you quickly turned to the direction of the voices, pulling your sword from Isamu's skull and walking towards them.

________________________________

Maki looked at the maroon liquid that stained her Soul Split Katana. Her fingers ran against it, feeling the stickiness and the iron of her blade. The scent filled her nostrils. The smell of copper, the smell of death around her. Her head turned around to find her father on the floor with half his head missing.

She let out a small sigh. Mai's death still weighed heavily on her scarred shoulder. The look was evident on her face, the gloss of her eyes. The air pressure changed suddenly, like a presence had just left the estate. Her head lifted upwards as her hand tightened its grip on the handle, her skin feeling irritated from the texture rubbing against her palm. An unpleasant feeling stirred in the pit of her stomach. The thought lingered in the back of her mind (which made her head begin to ache) that you had something to do with it.

"Come on, Mai. Let's get started."

Her feet drifted over the pavement of the corridor from the cursed warehouse. The footsteps of other members caught her attention. The vibrations in the walls were going in the direction which you left earlier. Her head whipped around to the hallway you'd gone through, her eye narrowing. The urge to follow after the ghost of your steps won her over; her own feet dragged her across the corridor and to the other hallway. Something in her heart pulled her to race out. Something bad was going to happen. She could feel it. Like it was a sixth sense given to her after awakening Heavenly Restriction. The feeling made her feel queasy, but she couldn't let herself stop. Reaching you was the only thing her mind would let her think about.

When she brushed past the end of the hallway, she found a piece of the viranda broken, a hole in the wall, blood, and hand marks on the dirt. Maki inhaled sharply and turned her head in the direction where she heard voices coming from. All of them were cut off by a wet and graphic squelch of blood. She listened to the other members of the Zenin clan choke on their own blood, listening to blows land against bodies and the bashing of their skulls.

Maki raced as fast as she could to reach the source. Every bone in her panicking body was hoping that none of those sounds were the sounds of your blood streaming out of your throat, or the crack of your skull getting busted open. Her heart slammed in her chest as all the possibilities were racing around her head, moving too fast for her to grab ahold of and strangle until it faded away.

The sight wasn't what she expected. She did expect to see your body laying lifeless against the asphalt in a pool of your own blood or with a bashed skull. But the bodies of other Zenin clan members were what she found. Carnage and gore and death painted the scene. In the middle of it all was you, looking at Maki with a thousand yard stare. She was about to part her lips to say something, anything that might've comforted you, but she was only silent. Tears glossed over your eyes as you started for her, your bloodied up sword swinging as you picked up your pace.

Maki furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. The previous images of your dead body went away, scurrying off to the side like a bunch of roaches crawling away to their hiding spots. A new genre of questions were swarming in her mind and blurring her focus. Were you under some sort of mind control? She'd be the one to pull you back out. Did you get brainwashed? She'd knock the sense into you. No matter what it was, she solidified her promise to fix it all up.

The only thing she couldn't fix was your fate.

The speed of your sword swinging towards her was almost too fast for her to process. She barely swayed her head to the side just in time. The very tip of your blade grazed her cheek, a small scratch on her skin.

"Y/n, what the hell are you doing?!" Maki shouted as she dodged swing after swing. More members of the Zenin clan came rushing towards you and her both. Maki used the rushed timing of your swings to kill those other people, the peanut gallery, the randoms were nothing more than people she would barely consider relatives.

"I can't stop!" You cried as you yanked your sword from the side of a man's skull. You pulled yourself around to face Maki, a tear rolling down your cheek.

Maki frowned, raising her Soul Split Katana to block an attack, deflecting it. She raised her leg to kick you back and gain some distance. Her heart raced in her chest. She couldn't possibly come to the conclusion of the very depths of her thoughts. The darkest thing that could possibly be true, the revelation made her head spin. Her face contorted into a look of shock. She couldn't accept it. Even when your sword nearly stuck her shoulder or her side, even when you kept charging at her. You were trying to kill her. The very thing you came to Jujutsu high for, it was finally happening.

Maki didn't know if you were serious about killing her or not. Serious about ending her life without a second thought, without a care in the world. The tears were what she'd seen before; the shining of your glassy eyes, the stress etched onto your face. Doubt swirled in her mind. The despair practically pouring off of you made her heart clench and squeeze in her chest from the claws of the weight of her situation. She felt like throwing up.

When your fist connected with Maki's jaw, she snapped out of her own thoughts. The impact made her head whip to the side. She stumbled to the side before immediately spinning back and landing an uppercut to your chin. The strength of her punch was so hard it lifted you off the ground for a moment before she pulled you back down so she could bash foreheads together.

Your brain rattled in your skull. The harshness of Maki's head banging was knocking your focus all over the place. You were growing dizzy. You couldn't hold a single thought for only a second; you felt you'd get knocked out soon if she kept going. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head each time your skulls clashed. Blood was flowing down your face from your forehead, getting in your eyes and in your mouth.

Maki was growing dizzy herself. The collision was making her brain grow fuzzy and practically turn to stew. She eventually gave up with that, using her fists to knock you back and sucker punch you. Her knuckles were already bleeding. Whose blood it was, she wasn't sure.

Just when your senses were about to come back to you, Maki's fist landed against your temple, knocking you back and spinning into a wall. You collided with the wood, denting it before pushing yourself off and running down the hallway you initially came through. Maki frowned as she watched you dart around the corner; her hand grabbed her katana and dashed after you, speeding down the hallway, her damp footsteps echoing around the walls.

You were hiding behind the left corner, waiting for Maki to speed right past you. She did just as you planned, watching her blur past the corner and look to her right first. You jumped out and grabbed Maki by her hair, pulling her to the wall and almost slamming her head into the bricks. Tears filled your eyes as you watched Maki break the impact with her arms, keeping herself up and pushing her head away from the wall. Your heart clenched in your chest at the pain you were inflicting onto her. Maki was tough, hard headed and a hard hitter. She was all those things, but allowing yourself to harm and break her skin and draw blood was like you were doing it to yourself.

Maki pushed her arm off the wall and elbowed you in the nose, breaking it and stunning you as the pain in your cartilage burned. You were too late to react as she punched you in the gut, making you cough. The air escaped from your diaphragm like it was fleeing from the impact of her fist. You coughed as Maki brought her knee to your chin and sent you tumbling backwards.

Your back hit the middle of the corridor roughly, a crack coming from you. You groaned as you felt one of your shoulders dislocate. You made another katana, the weight feeling like a bag of rocks inside of what it usually was. You lifted your arm up and swung to strike Maki, getting her collarbone and making her hiss.

Her heart sank in her chest as she clashed her blade with yours. Sparks flew from the iron collision, her muscles twitching and her jaw clenching as she kept pushing. Maki wasn't sure why she was about to kill you. Was she still angry at you? Of course she was. How could she not be? You're trying to kill her just the same, you lied to her, left her to die, ruined her life. Why would she not be angry? Why would she not hate you? Why would she not want to rip you to shreds?

Your foot met with Maki's abdomen, kicking her back. You leapt to your own feet and raised your arms to swing upwards. Maki acted entirely on instinct. Her brain didn't even process that she was acting from combat experience and not her emotions. She couldn't even stop her arms or slow them down. It was too late. Blood splattered onto her face, getting on her cheeks and her nose.

Maki's heart raced and sank in her chest all at once. Her breathing picked up, but no air could fill her lungs. Her eyesight grew blurry as she could barely process your arm lifting up to her forehead. Her own hand was reaching out to touch your chest, to feel your heartbeat when your palm touched her forehead.

________________________________

Wind blew through ivory green strands of hair. The air warmly caressed her skin like a hug.

Maki felt like she was floating and falling at the same time. Like she was falling from a cliff and an angel was flying down and barely saving her. Her eyes suddenly widened, a sharp gasp escaping her lips.

She finds herself leaning against a tree stump with her Soul Split Katana in her lap. She'd been sharpening it with a rock this whole time? She looks around and recognizes that she's back at the Jujutsu Tech training field. Nobody else was there. The painted football field lines were faded and the place looked slightly wrecked. Grass was overgrown as wildlife took over the building to the side. She blinked slowly as she straightened her posture, rubbing her eye— she finally noticed she could see out of both her eyes again. Or maybe she always could? She felt so out of place...

"Took you long enough."

Maki whipped her head to find you sitting next to her. For once you were looking peaceful. Your back was against the tree stump as well, sitting criss crossed with a small notebook in your lap. She parted her lips in surprise as she looked around again. Your skin looked healthier, she noticed. When did it not look healthy and hydrated? Had she been dreaming so long that she'd grown accustomed to the sight of you looking so dead?

"What?"

"I wanted to talk to you one more time without getting interrupted by a blow."

Maki's eyes widened. So it wasn't a dream. That was reality, and this was the dream. She felt her heart beating strongly in her chest as she stared at you, watching you peacefully write down whatever it was that you were writing. A frown etched its way onto her face.

"You...what the hell is this?"

"Not quite a daydream," you click your tongue as you pause the moving of your pencil. You look away from your notebook and glance at Maki. She swears she feels blessed with a gift from God himself when she sees the smile on your face. She knows she's being tricked, that this isn't real, but damn if the lie didn't feel like a balm for her aching heart.

"Think of it as a space between life and death. I'm dying right now. I don't even have much time left."

"You sound stupid," Maki says breathlessly. She's aware she's the one who sounds stupid. But she's in denial. She couldn't lose you once again. She could barely stand sitting here knowing it'd be the last time she ever sees you. The sight of your calm and gentle smile makes her heart ache again, her jaw clenching as her breath begins to shake.

"Yeah, yeah," you chuckle, shaking your head before going back to looking at your pages. You inhale slowly as you feel your heartbeat begin to slow down in your chest. Time was running out.

"You never did listen, you know. About why I first came to Jujutsu Tech."

"I didn't."

Maki confirms it with another frown; half hearted and soft, because she knows in these last moments with you she couldn't bear to be mean. She puts down the rock in her hand that was irritating against her palm, letting it tumblr wherever the hill takes it. Her body shifts closer to yours, desperate to search for any kind of warmth that indicates this is reality.

"I'm listening now."

"That's not gonna save me, you know."

"Goddamnit, Y/n."

Maki sighed as her hand gripped a patch of grass underneath her. She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath as her chest rises and falls slowly.

"Just...tell me. Let me know now because if I'm gonna lose you, I deserve to be left with the truth about you."

You close your eyes with her, your hand slowly moving across the grass. Your fingers gently touch hers, a smooth embrace on Maki's skin. She's all too eager to take your hand into hers as if that would keep you here with her any longer. Your heart sinks in your chest at the gesture, knowing no amount of hand holding or truthful speaking can keep you from dying.

"I never did want to kill you."

The words were starting to fall from your lips like water escaping a broken dam.

"I was selfish. I took up the offer because I wanted freedom. I wanted to break the shackles from my ankles and to be able to walk and talk without getting forced into silence. I was to get there, kill you, and leave. But I couldn't find it in myself to even raise a hand against you or even look the wrong way in your direction. So I kept quiet. I slept on it for as long as I could, and when Mai came that day in July, it was all I could do to tell her the truth because I needed to tell someone. When silence is pushed upon you for so long, there are too many words to spill out and it all comes crashing down in a giant mess of ugly truths. When I saw you standing there, I knew there was no way that I could kill you now. I wanted you to move on, to forget me and the monster I am. I only wished I'd gotten to memorize the weight of your hand in mine so I wouldn't forget before having to carry a sword for the rest of my days."

You looked up at the gaps of sunlight peering through the leaves and the tree branches. Another breeze blew through you and Maki's hair, the wind wiping away the crystalline tears from your eyes that Maki wishes she could wipe away herself.

Words couldn't explain what she was feeling in her chest, in her mind. It was like it all came crashing down on her soul. She couldn't find any tears in her ducts to let out, so she'd use your own as an outlet.

"When the air was denser, lighter, and I felt I could float away effortlessly, that was when I knew you were near."

You let another tear roll down your cheek, your throat closing up. You try to hold back a cry, your breath shaking as you exhale through your nose. The wind isn't strong enough to pick up the tear weighted down by the despair in your stomach like a tornado. You were about to die. You were going to leave Maki all alone. You didn't want that, because that meant she'd be moving on.

"I'm almost gone," you chuckle, your voice wavering as you sniffle your nose and let another tear roll down your other cheek. "You're about to destroy the Zenin clan, and now I'm leaving you out here all alone."

Your eyes burn with tears as they come streaming down your face. Maki squeezes your hand as she holds a straight face. It's killing her inside. She'll have to live the rest of her life without you, but only left with memories of you in her mind. Soon she'll forget your face, the sound of your voice, the feel of your skin. She wouldn't allow herself to forget the weight of your hand, just because you couldn't memorize it yourself. She squeezed it again, urging more and more tears to gloss over your puffy eyes.

"Don't let me go," you whisper softly as you feel a blinding pain in your chest. "If you'll be the one killing me today, could you hurt me a little less in the end?"

A streak of blood trickled from the corner of your mouth. Maki's eyes widened as it dawned on her that you were about to leave. Already? So soon? She just got here. She squeezed your hand again and again in hopes that your heart would start beating again. The life faded from your eyes, your irises looking pale and dark as even a light as bright as the sun couldn't make them glisten the same again.

"No...no. Y/n, wake up!"

Maki shifted in front of you and tapped your cheek gently with her free hand. Her breath shook and her body trembled as the world around her began to fade into black. Her attempts at making you stay were in vain. The echoes of her voice screeched in her ears as everything went black.

And suddenly she was back at the Zenin estate. Her hand was still on your chest, feeling your heartbeat slow down until it finally stopped. Your body fell backwards, leaving the blade of her Soul Split Katana tainted crimson with your blood. Your body hit the floor, the red liquid streaming out of your body. The puddle that was your life source now gone was staining her boots.

All Maki could do was stand and watch as the shining white—dark red mixed with it— remained still and untouched. Her eyes widened and her lips parted as she watched your corpse lay there before her, your blood surrounding you resembling the gate to the afterlife opening and welcoming you, stealing you away from her.

This was it. You were gone, her heart was gone, and she could only watch it be ripped away.

Your words echoed in Maki's mind. Her blood ran cold under her skin as her breath hitched. The look in her eyes went from a shocked, saddened glint to a flash of anger. Her lips pursed together as she gripped her sword in one hand, and the other balling up, like she was holding the weight of your hand in hers.

Could you hurt me a little less in the end?

It was the least she could do to avenge you and Mai both on the people who ruined all three of your lives. To make carnage and free herself after not being able to free you and Mai.

Reflections were only left of herself.

_________________________

𝐄𝐍𝐃

_________________________

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

It's been a year since the Zenin clan massacre. I don't even know where to begin to tell you all the things that happened.

I killed Naoya for you. I know you hated him just as much as I did. He got what he deserved, for making mine, yours, and Mai's lives a shit storm.

Yuta's dead. So is Satoru, and Megumi, and so many other people. Sukuna's finally gone. He's no longer a nuisance. I suffered some of the effects of fighting him, but I'm okay.

Panda misses you. He says he misses joking around with you and poking fun at you. Shoko-san doesn't say it, but she misses you, too. It takes a little of insight, but it's there. The feeling of dread lingering in her chest.

I miss you, too. I don't like saying it. More than anything, I miss you. I can't bring myself to own anything of yours anymore. I know if I do, then it only serves to remind me that you're gone. Nothing has been the same for me. I can't even eat a cake on my own birthday because it reminds me too much of your sweet sixteen.

It's so lonely without you. Winter isn't the same as it was two years ago when I still had you around to keep me company when the nights get too cold.

You're in a better place. I just wish I could've provided that better place for you by listening when I had the opportunity. I know your voice is gone and only a memory in the back of my mind, but I know in any life after this, I'll always listen to you.

Don't you worry anymore about forgetting the weight of my hand in yours. I've already got yours memorized by the gram.

I'll see you after a while, if you don't appear in my reflections again.

_________________________

a/n: THANK U ALL SO MUCH FOR READING <3333

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