Confessions of a Clumsy Werewolf ft. Werewolf!Maki
At first, I was gonna do like a hot, frat boy/ bad boy Maki, but then I got the inspiration for this so here we are!
Genre: Fantasy, werewolf au, fluff, humor, romance
Pairings: Werewolf!Maki x Fairy!Saki
It was the peak of summer, the sun drenching the university in lazy golden light and the air thick with the smell of grass and heat.
Her hair was tied up in a loose side braid today, soft strands falling over her collarbone, framing her face like petals. A white milkmaid blouse hugged her shoulders, tied delicately at the sleeves. Over it, she wore a light green cardigan, airy and fluttering faintly with her movement. Her brown maxi skirt swayed with each step, brushing against her ankles. Her wings were folded and hidden beneath the cardigan, kept close and unbothered.
She liked the quiet of this time of day. The breeze. The warmth. The illusion of peace.
Laughter. Footsteps. Chaos.
From the other end of the walkway came them. A familiar group of boys barreling across campus like they owned it.
And his gang of loud, stupid boys — Taki tripping over a bench, Yuma waving around a half-eaten popsicle, Harua chasing Jo with a rugby ball. Typical.
And of course, Maki — tall, and rumpled in a way that felt unfairly attractive. White athletic tee stretched over his shoulders, sleeves rolled, jaw set. He looked like the kind of boy who left dents in lockers and hearts.
And he was looking at her. Making a beeline toward her.
Eyes locked. Purposeful stride. A stupid and confident expression growing on his face.
She instinctively picked up her pace, muttering under her breath.
“Don’t come over. Don’t come over. Don’t—”
Maki reached her before she could make it to the stairs. He stepped right in front of her, cutting her off like the six-foot wall of wolfish audacity he was.
“Wow,” he said, arms crossed. “You really dress like a mushroom farmer today.”
“I mean—like a cute one,” he added quickly. “Like one that sells organic stuff and curses people in her free time. Earthy. Weird. Kinda witchy.”
Saki blinked. Her eye twitched.
“Wow. You really know how to talk to girls.”
He scratched the back of his neck, flustered but pretending he wasn’t.
“I’m just saying. You’re the only fairy I’ve seen who doesn’t try to be all sparkly and floaty. You just kind of… stomp around. In skirts. And smell like compost tea.”
“Compost tea? Stomp around?”
“Okay, that came out wrong—”
She smacked him squarely with her sketchbook. Right on his broad shoulder. He staggered a little, looking personally offended by the paper impact.
Behind him, his friends were dying.
“She got you again,” Jo said, mouth full of granola.
“You deserve that,” Harua added.
“What did I even say?” Maki grumbled, rubbing his arm.
Saki walked past him and huffing without looking back, straightening up her form and taking a deep breath while fixing her hair.
“You talk like your brain is still buffering.”
He watched her go, hands dropping to his sides like even his muscles gave up on helping him flirt.
“…I meant she smells nice,” he mumbled to no one.
“…Like a forest. Not fertilizer.”
This had been going on since the last year of high school when Maki first transferred to her school halfway through the year.
He'd shown up like a storm cloud with sharp cheekbones.
And strangely… nice. To everyone.
Even the shy kids. Even the teachers.
From the first day, he had this strange thing with her.
He’d point out the way she walked “You walk like a wind-up toy.”
Comment on how she talked “Your voice is so soft I thought I was going deaf.”
Once he even told her, dead serious, “You blink weird.”
At first, she'd assumed it was a misunderstanding.
Then she hoped it was a phase.
And then, she accepted it:
Maki just didn’t like her.
Unfortunately, fate had a sick sense of humor. Because now, even after graduation, after her cautious dreams of leaving everything behind, he was here. At her university. Just as loud. Just as stupidly attractive.
She took her usual seat by the window in the lecture hall, sliding into her chair as the sunlight filtered across her notes. But her thoughts were tangled, refusing to let her focus. Her pen tapped idly against the paper.
He was nice to everyone else. Friendly. Laid-back. Charming, even, if you weren’t the target of his unnecessary commentary.
What is it about me? she thought, bitterness curling in her chest.
What’s so special about me that he feels the need to make fun of me every single day?
She glanced at her reflection in the window.
Her braid was loose again. A few strands clung to her cheek in the heat. She pushed them back, adjusted her cardigan, sat a little straighter, like somehow that might make her less... mockable.
The professor began speaking, but her thoughts were already spiraling.
She wished she could ignore him.
She wanted to pretend his words didn’t crawl under her skin.
But every time he spoke to her, every time his eyes landed on her, her whole body braced for another judgment. Another insult dressed as a comment. Another reminder that she was, in his eyes, weird. Wrong. Laughable.
Part of her still remembered what his smile looked like when he wasn’t aiming it at her.
The professor's voice droned on in the background, but Saki wasn’t listening.
Her gaze drifted to the window beside her, and through the shimmering summer haze, she spotted the rugby field down below. A few students were playing an impromptu game — boys laughing, shouting, tossing the ball around like overgrown puppies.
And right in the middle of them, of course — was Maki.
His shirt clung to him with sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead as he dodged, blocked, tackled. He was fast. Sharp. Wild. Like he had too much energy and nowhere to put it.
She watched him for a second. Just a second.
And then she saw it happen.
It wasn’t a big deal, not to anyone else. One of his friends laughed and tossed him the ball again like it was nothing.
But Maki’s smile vanished in an instant.
He grabbed the ball and threw it into the ground so hard it bounced up and hit Jo in the leg. His shoulders tensed. His hands clenched into fists. His jaw locked.
He looked like he wanted to snap someone in half.
Jo laughed it off, said something teasing — probably something harmless — but Maki didn’t take it well. He turned away, storming off toward the edge of the field with that familiar dangerous energy trailing behind him like smoke.
Saki sighed and leaned her cheek against her palm, eyes still half on him through the window.
Couldn’t handle losing. Couldn’t handle being teased. Couldn’t handle anything, really.
He was like a volcano with muscles, always one stupid comment away from eruption.
She didn’t deny it, he still looked good.
With that sculpted jaw, his sun-warmed skin, the way his veins popped a little too nicely in his forearms. He looked like every girl’s bad decision.
But Saki had always been a little more careful than that.
If he had even half a personality to match his face, she thought, maybe I’d actually find him attractive.
He had a temper like wildfire and a mouth that only seemed to work when he was insulting her.
So she turned her gaze back to her notebook, tried to block him out again, and told herself — for the hundredth time —
“He’s not worth thinking about.”
She tapped her pen twice.
But even then… she still hadn’t turned the page.
Maki gulped down his water, the cold seeping through his chest like it was trying to cool the frustration simmering under his skin. His shirt clung to him, soaked in sweat and clinging tight across his shoulders and back. His hair was a mess, his hands still dirt-smudged from the game, and his jaw ached from how tight he’d been clenching it.
The outburst had passed. His friends were laughing again. The game had moved on.
His anger had cooled. Mostly.
But the stupid, infuriating feeling from the morning — from her — still burned at the edges of his chest.
Right in the shoulder with her sketchbook. Walked past him with a huff, her braid bouncing with every step and her cardigan fluttering like she had wind wrapped around her. Her eyes were fire and frost all at once — and they were always that way when she looked at him.
He groaned, dragging a hand down his face and tipping his head back toward the sky.
Why couldn’t he just say it?
Just open his stupid mouth and say:
“I like the way you braid your hair.”
“Seeing your face every morning makes my whole day less miserable.”
Not when her voice made his brain static. Not when she got that look in her eyes — the one like she was bracing herself, like he was some thunderstorm she had to walk through.
“You walk like youre crippled.”
“You smell like compost tea.”
She hated him. Obviously.
And could he blame her? He’d never given her a reason to think otherwise.
But damn it, he’d never hated anyone less.
He looked up toward the academic block and for just a second, he saw her.
Through the window. In that same seat by the window she always sat in, lit by the soft sun like she was painted there. Hair tied up. Arms folded. Her chin in her hand as she stared out the glass.
She was looking this way.
His breath caught — just a beat — before she turned away again.
Maki tossed the now-empty water bottle into his bag and muttered under his breath.
“You blink weird.” He scowled. “What the hell’s wrong with me?”
He ran a hand through his hair, muscles still twitching with leftover adrenaline — or maybe just leftover longing.
Maybe if she’d just hit me a little harder, he thought, it would knock the feelings out of me.
She’d just hit harder next time.
The sun had started to dip behind the buildings, turning the sky a soft orange. Maki walked back toward the dorms with his duffel bag slung over one shoulder, earbuds in but not playing anything. His shirt stuck to his back, still damp from sweat and grass stains, but he barely noticed.
Every step echoed with her name.
Her voice. Her frown. The way she didn’t even hesitate before smacking him with her sketchbook like he was too far gone for words.
He groaned, running a hand through his messy hair.
He muttered it to himself, dragging his hand down his face. “Real smooth, jackass.”
Not her. Never her. Just the way everything short-circuited when she was around. He could charm anyone else on campus with a grin and a shrug — professors, upperclassmen, even the cranky guy who ran the cafeteria.
But the second he stood in front of her?
It was like his whole vocabulary collapsed. All his thoughts ran screaming for the hills and left him with scraps.
And yet… he kept doing it.
Kept saying the wrong thing.
Kept making her roll her eyes or slap him or walk away without even looking back.
Maki exhaled, shoulders heavy as he passed under the trees lining the path back to the dorms. A few fireflies blinked early in the evening light.
Let his bag slide off his shoulder.
Looked up at the darkening sky, fists clenched loosely at his sides.
Then he nodded once, jaw tightening.
“Tomorrow,” he said aloud. “I’m gonna tell her.”
No stupid jokes. No weird comparisons to mushroom farms or herbal tea or picnic skirts. Just the truth.
That he liked her. That he always had.
That seeing her every day was the best and worst part of his life, because it lit him up and broke him down at the same time.
And if he was lucky — by this time tomorrow?
He’d have her number saved in his phone with a little ❤️ emoji next to it.
He smirked slightly at the thought.
Because knowing himself, he’d probably blow it before lunch.
Back in his dorm, Maki had just showered and his room smelled like musk, body spray, and failure.
He stood in front of the mirror, hands on his hips, mentally psyching himself up.
"Okay. Just be cool. Be natural. You're alpha material. She's just a girl. A very pretty, magical, perfect girl with sparkly eyes and flower soap smell and—"
"Focus, idiot." He tells himself before calming himself.
He exhales, rolls his shoulders, switches into flirty mode. He leans a little toward the mirror, eyebrows cocked, voice low and smug.
"Hey… is it just me, or is it kinda hot out here?" He says as he lifts the hem of his shirt slowly, revealing toned abs, giving himself a smolder.
"Wait—maybe it’s not the weather. Maybe… it’s because you’re hot." He says in a low and hot tone.
He BITES his lip. Then immediately recoils in horror.
"NOPE. NO. WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT." He exclaims as he slaps his face.
He paces the room like a rabid wolf.
"‘You’re hot?! She’ll think I’m hitting on her. Wait—I am hitting on her. But not like a jerk!! She’s gonna slap me again."
He glares at his reflection.
"Why is talking to one fairy girl harder than winning the full moon tournament?"
He tries again, dropping the flirt, going for soft and sincere:
"I think you’re… cool. Not, like, cold. Like personality cool. Like… calming." He says nervously.
"Calming?! What is she, a cup of herbal tea?!"
He groans and lets his forehead thump against the mirror.
The next day rolled in warm and golden, the air thick with late-summer stillness. Maki had spent the morning fidgeting through classes, tapping his pen, bouncing his knee, looking around every corner hoping to spot her.
By the time break came around, his nerves were frayed and his shirt clung to his back despite the air conditioning. He wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to say anything anymore — but he had to try.
So when he spotted her — sitting under that tree with her legs folded, sketchbook balanced in her lap, a breeze catching her cardigan just slightly — his heart jumped. She looked like something from a painting. Warm, glowing, unreachable.
He ducked behind a wall. Quickly smoothed his hair back with his fingers. Straightened his red sleeveless shirt. Adjusted his black baggy pants— bold choice today, Maki. Bold choice.
Then he crunched down three — no, six — breath mints at once.
Too strong. Eyes watering. He coughed into his fist.
Saki didn’t even look up from her sketch at first — but the moment she sensed him, her eyes flicked up.
"What do you want, Mickey Maus?"
He froze mid-step, blinking.
Then he looked down at himself.
Red shirt. Baggy black pants. Yellow decals. Big-ass sneakers.
He frowned. “Okay. That’s mean.”
“…Okay, fair,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “But like—impressive wordplay.”
He cleared his throat, shifting his weight nervously.
Just tell her. Tell her she’s pretty. That he likes her. That he’s been obsessed with her since high school and he doesn’t even know why except maybe it’s because she’s everything he’s not.
But instead, what came out was:
"Your outfit reminds me of the trolls from Frozen."
Absolutely deafening silence.
Saki slowly closed her sketchbook. Stood up.
Her expression was unreadable. Dangerous.
"What is your problem, Maki?"
Her voice was sharp, tight, angry.
“No—wait, I didn’t mean it like that—!”
She stepped back, her eyebrows drawn, mouth tight.
"Why are you always targeting me?"
"Go find someone else to obsessively annoy!"
And something inside him snapped — not with anger at her, but at everything. The pressure. The nerves. The fact that even when he tried, he still failed. His feelings, twisted and raw, came out in the worst possible way.
"Maybe if you didn’t smell funny, it’d be easier!"
It hung in the air like poison.
People nearby turned their heads.
Saki’s eyes widened — cheeks going red. Not from embarrassment, but fury.
“NO! No, I didn’t mean like bad funny!”
He gestured wildly. “I mean — it’s like this feeling funny! Like I know it’s you, like I feel it from far away and it’s—!”
Her bag slammed into his shoulder — hard enough to make him stumble back.
“Don’t ever talk to me again, Maki.”
And then she turned. And walked away.
No look back. No hesitation.
Just storming off, braid swinging with every furious step.
A few people stared. He didn’t even care.
The sun felt a little too hot. His mints were still burning his throat. His heart was somewhere in the dirt.
A low, involuntary sound left his throat — more instinct than thought —
“She’s really, really mad today…”
he murmured quietly to no one.
And after a long, quiet moment…
His voice came out small. Almost broken.
“…I just wanted to say you look like a fairy princess.”
“And you smell like the earth. Like flowers and moss and rain.”
Saki burst through the door of her dorm room and slammed it shut behind her. Her bag hit the floor with a heavy thud, but she didn’t bother picking it up. She kicked off her shoes, cardigan already halfway off, and stumbled toward her bed like a girl possessed.
She dove face-first into the blankets.
The room was hot and dim, only a sliver of light coming through the drawn curtains. Her heart was racing — her skin flushed from running the entire way across campus.
She’d left in the middle of break.
Skipped the rest of her classes.
She rolled onto her back, chest heaving slightly, and stared up at the ceiling, eyes glassy with unshed tears.
“Maybe if you didn’t smell funny, it’d be easier.”
The words echoed in her skull.
His sense of smell was ten times better.
If he thought she smelled weird… did that mean everyone else did too?
Her cheeks flushed red again, this time with embarrassment.
She slowly sat up and sniffed her shirt collar, frowning.
Earthy. A bit floral. Definitely her.
“What the hell does that even mean?” she muttered, scowling.
She threw herself back into the pillows with a loud groan, pulling a blanket over her face.
“Why is he like this?! Why me?! Why always me?!”
Meanwhile, across campus…
Maki sat in the cafeteria looking like a depressed, slightly sweaty mountain. His lunch tray was obliterated. Rice: gone. Dumplings: gone. Extra side of fried chicken: gone. Harua’s dessert: also gone.
He chewed aggressively on a cucumber, jaw tight.
Across from him, Jo watched him eat with mild concern.
Maki didn’t answer. Just stabbed a carrot.
Taki blinked. “Is he—rage eating again?”
Harua leaned back, expression unreadable. “What did you do this time?”
Maki dropped his chopsticks and leaned forward, burying his face in his arms.
His voice came out muffled:
“…I said she smelled funny.”
Everyone at the table went still.
“…You what?” Yuma choked on his drink.
Maki sat up slowly, expression full of shame and dumpling regret.
“I meant good funny! Like—like she smells like the forest! Or like… magic dirt! I don’t know!”
“…Did you actually say the words ‘you smell funny’?”
Maki let out a long, drawn-out groan and dropped his head back again.
Taki patted his back gently. “At least you’re hot.”
“I’m not hot anymore,” Maki muttered into his arm. “I’m stupid.”
His friends shared a look.
Jo passed him a rice cracker. “You’ll figure it out, Miki Maus.”
Maki glared. “Don’t start.”
Later that evening, the halls of the dorm were quiet — most students were either studying, gaming, or nursing the soul wounds of an exhausting school day.
Maki’s door was slightly ajar, and the sound of heavy breathing and soft grunting came from inside.
Jo, Harua, Yuma, and Taki stood outside, exchanging confused glances before Jo gently nudged the door open.
Inside, the room was dim, lit only by the golden hue of a desk lamp.
And in the middle of it all — shirtless, sweaty, and doing push-ups like his life depended on it — was Maki.
His back muscles flexed with each motion. His face was tense. His dog tags swung slightly with every movement.
Taki blinked. “Oh no. He’s entered his Man Pain Arc.”
Harua walked in first. “Dude. It’s almost 8 p.m. What are you doing?”
“Yes. We gathered that.” Jo sat on his bed, eyebrows raised. “Why?”
Maki huffed. “Because I need to suffer while I think.”
Harua crossed his arms. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Respectfully.”
With one final grunt, Maki dropped onto the floor and flipped onto his back, chest rising and falling. He stared up at the ceiling like it had all the answers he didn’t.
“…I have a new plan,” he said, voice low and serious.
The guys all leaned in slightly.
“Step three: Win her over.”
Jo squinted. “Isn’t step three just… vague?”
“I’ll figure out step three when I get there,” Maki grunted, sitting up and running a hand through his damp hair. “Right now, all I care about is making things right.”
Harua raised an eyebrow. “Even after what you said?”
Maki groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
Taki whispered to Yuma, “I feel like we should start printing ‘I’m sorry for being me’ apology cards for him.”
“I like her,” Maki said suddenly, like it was being pulled from his chest. “I really like her. And I’ve liked her since high school and I’ve been a freaking idiot about it.”
He stood up and grabbed a towel, wiping the sweat off his neck.
“She’s smart. She’s beautiful. She smells like moss and sunshine and books. And instead of telling her that, I told her she smelled funny.”
Harua, calmly: “You also said she looked like a troll.”
Maki dropped the towel over his head. “I’m going to throw myself off the dorm roof.”
Jo clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Do it after you apologize. Timing is key.”
Maki sighed and slumped down on the edge of his bed, towel still over his face. His voice came out muffled.
“…I’m gonna fix it. Even if she hates me forever, I just want her to know I meant the opposite of everything I said.”
Taki pulled out a cookie from his hoodie pocket and handed it to him. “For strength.”
Maki accepted it solemnly.
The next morning came with golden sun and a breeze that carried the soft scent of dew and wildflowers — and Maki’s nerves.
He was standing near the academic block, fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie, eyes scanning the crowd like a bloodhound on high alert.
Across the courtyard. Her braid was in its usual place, her cardigan fluttering gently. She looked calm. Untouchable.
He took a breath, preparing to sprint toward her.
His steps slowed. His nose twitched.
That overwhelming, sharp, artificial scent. Heavy and cloying.
Strong. Pungent. Not her.
He coughed softly into his fist, nose wrinkling.
Her scent was normally… gentle. Subtle. Earthy. A mix of wildflowers, pine, old parchment, and sunlight.
This was a wall of manufactured floral musk smothering everything she truly was.
It’s because of yesterday.
She had doused herself in perfume because of what he said.
Guilt clawed at his chest. But he didn’t stop moving. He picked up his pace.
Turned around with a calm expression that was too calm.
“I don’t want to hear anything from you, Maki.”
Her voice was quiet. Tired. Firm.
She turned to walk again.
His chest heaved. His heart thumped like thunder in his ears.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, this time quieter. “For yesterday. For every stupid thing I’ve ever said to you.”
She didn’t turn around yet.
But she didn’t keep walking either.
“I didn’t mean what I said,” Maki continued, voice tight with sincerity. “Not a single word. Not the troll thing. Not the smell thing. Especially not that.”
She slowly turned her head, just a little — enough to glance back at him from the corner of her eye.
“I panicked,” he admitted. “I always do when it comes to you. And I hate it. Because you make me feel… nervous. Like I’m always going to mess it up.”
Saki looked forward again.
Maki swallowed hard. “But I’m trying now. I swear I am. I just… I didn’t want you to change how you are because of me.”
A breeze passed between them.
“…I like how you smell,” he said softly, so low it was almost a whisper. “Like wildflowers. Like the earth after rain. It’s the best scent I’ve ever known. And I hated that I made you think otherwise.”
But her fingers clenched slightly at her sides.
He didn’t expect forgiveness.
He just didn’t want her to keep hiding herself.
Back still facing him. Her fingers twitched slightly at her side.
She slapped her arm hard with her palm.
“Why the fuck didn’t you say that before?!” she snapped, spinning around with her nose scrunched up, eyes glaring.
She looked furious. Like full-body tired angry. And flushed. And—
She slapped her arm again.
“Do you know how much I wanna puke because of this stupid perfume?!” she shouted, fanning herself with the collar of her cardigan.
“I’ve had a headache since breakfast!”
She stomped one foot. “I thought I’d go nose-dead but NOPE, still fully functioning!”
“…Wait—you didn’t want to wear it?”
“NO!” she groaned, throwing her head back. “I only wore it because you said I smelled funny!”
He winced, guilt crashing over him again.
“I just—I thought maybe I really smelled weird and I started spiraling and then I couldn’t stop overthinking it and now I reek like a goddamn department store flower section—”
Then let it out slowly, shoulders deflating.
Her face softened just slightly.
“I forgive you,” she said quietly, rubbing her temple. “But if you say one more weird thing to me again, I will set your hoodie on fire.”
“Like… with actual fire or—”
And with that, she walked away — not storming this time, but with a kind of tired grace. She was still annoyed. Still perfumed. But she’d forgiven him.
And for the first time in days, Maki could breathe again.
He stared after her, then slowly smiled.
A real one. Wide and toothy and relieved.
“…She forgave me,” he muttered under his breath, clutching his chest like he'd just won the Olympics.
“Damn. That perfume is strong.”
Maki stood in place for a few seconds longer, still watching her walk away.
That braid. That tired stomp. The way her shoulders had just barely loosened.
She hadn’t hit him. She hadn’t screamed (well, not that much). She had listened.
He exhaled with a dumb, happy smile starting to spread across his face—
His mouth opened like a man watching a slow-motion car crash.
The words left his mouth in a gasp of horror.
He slapped his own face so hard it echoed.
“STUPID—WHY DIDN’T I SAY IT?!”
Jo, passing by a few feet away, paused mid-bite of a sandwich. “Bro… are you okay?”
Maki didn’t hear him. He was in full emotional collapse.
Hands in his hair. Knees slightly bent. Groaning into the air like a tragic romance novel protagonist.
“She forgave me! She said ‘I forgive you’ and THEN she walked away!”
He gestured wildly at the space she had just occupied.
“It was the perfect moment! It had all the emotional weight! And I just stood there like a damp towel!”
He sank to a squat, hands on his head.
“I wasted a cinematic scene.”
Jo slowly walked past. “I’m not touching this.”
Maki groaned, leaning back on the grass with a loud, exhausted sigh.
“Next time,” he muttered to the sky.
“Next time I swear I’m gonna say it. No more push-ups and perfume-induced near-death experiences. I’m gonna tell her. I swear.”
The wind rustled gently through the trees, like it heard him.
But it also kind of sounded like it was mocking him.
The next day, Maki showed up to class with a level of determination in his step and chaos in his soul that could only mean one thing:
He had mapped it out at 2 a.m., in a crumpled notebook between a half-eaten protein bar and an empty energy drink.
Step 2: Don’t say anything stupid (ongoing risk)
Step 4: Tell her she’s pretty
Step 5: Confess and beg the gods she says yes
And today, he was tackling Step 3.
Saki was walking through the garden path between classes, trying to escape the lingering headache from yesterday’s perfume disaster. Her braid was a little looser than usual, and she was carrying a small book of pressed flowers tucked under her arm.
Wearing a white t-shirt that was almost suspiciously fitted.
“Maki, what are you doing?” she asked warily.
He turned, eyes wide like he hadn’t expected her to speak first — despite obviously waiting for her.
“Oh—hey! I was just, y’know. Chilling.”
He held the flower like it was a peace treaty. “This is for you.”
“What? Nothing!” he said quickly, voice cracking slightly. “It’s just a flower! A normal flower!”
“…Did you pick that from the biology lab again?”
She sighed but took it anyway, holding it like she might still throw it back at him.
This was it. Step 3. Make her smile.
“You, uh…” he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly shy. “You look nice. Like… y’know, peaceful. Like a vibe. You’re very… vibes.”
Saki raised a brow. “Vibes?”
“Yeah. Like an aesthetic board. In a good way.”
She blinked. “Did you just compare me to a Pinterest board?”
Saki stared at him. For a long moment.
A small laugh, soft and unintentional.
Maki straightened up like someone had just tossed him a gold medal.
She looked away quickly, brushing hair from her face to hide the tiniest curve of her lips.
“I have class,” she said, walking past him.
He nodded, heart thumping.
But as she passed, she paused.
“…Thanks. For the flower,” she said without turning.
Maki stood there, staring at the empty space she left behind, and whispered:
Classes were done for the day, and Maki was walking back to the dorms with a convenience store bag in one hand and a popsicle stick hanging from his mouth. The sky was shifting into that late afternoon gold, casting long shadows across the campus walkways.
He passed by the girls’ dorm on instinct — it was on the route back.
Her long hair was down for once, blowing gently in the breeze. She stood at the railing, hanging a thick blanket over the ledge to dry. The sun hit her just right — gold brushing against soft brown strands, cheeks slightly flushed from the climb, loose shirt fluttering faintly in the wind.
Like some kind of angel. Like a painting. Like a poem someone forgot to write down.
A sharp sting hit the side of his head as something small — and very solid — bounced off his temple and hit the ground.
Saki was squinting down at him, arms crossed.
“What are you doing staring at the girls’ dorm? You perv.” she called.
“WHAT—NO! I wasn’t—! I didn’t even know you were here!”
He held up his hands defensively. “I just—I was walking back from the store and I looked up and saw you! Just you! I swear!”
“No!!” he said instantly, eyes wide. “On my life. My popsicle’s honor.”
That one made her blink. And exhale through her nose like she was trying not to laugh.
She stared at him a moment longer, then nodded slowly.
She turned slightly, shaking out the blanket. Her movements calmer now. Almost… peaceful.
And Maki, still flustered and still rubbing the side of his head, was just about to say something normal when his mouth—betrayed him again.
It slipped out too fast. Too soft.
Saki blinked. Her fingers stilled on the blanket.
Maki froze, eyes wide in immediate regret.
He stood there like a deer in headlights, stunned by the words that escaped before his brain caught up.
His voice had gone breathy. Dreamy.
Like he’d just realized it out loud for the first time.
The breeze moved between them.
For a second, her expression softened — just a flicker — before she huffed and turned back to the blanket.
“…Idiot,” she muttered under her breath.
But there was no rock this time.
Just a soft blush brushing her cheeks as she quietly smoothed the fabric.
Maki just stood there. Grinning like a lovesick fool, hand still pressed to the spot where she hit him.
Maki stood under the rooftop, the second popsicle sweating slightly in his hand.
Saki glanced over the edge, her loose hair brushing her shoulders, eyes narrowing suspiciously.
He raised the popsicle in offering.
She squinted down at him. “Maki, I’m on the roof. I’m not coming down just to get that.”
He shrugged. “You can just fly down.”
The moment the words left his mouth, he felt it.
Saki went still. Completely still.
There was a pause — too long to be normal.
Then, in a voice too casual to be real:
She wasn’t looking at him anymore. Her hands rested at the railing, fingers curled in.
“My wings… they’re cracked,” she added after a moment. “Been like that since I was a kid. Permanently damaged.”
He froze, guilt slamming into his chest.
“Saki… I didn’t know. I’m—”
He took a step back. “I’m really sorry.”
She shook her head once, her tone dismissive but her eyes still distant.
“It’s fine. You didn’t know.”
But he wasn’t fine. His jaw clenched. He looked up again.
Then at the tall streetlight nearby.
He backed up several steps.
He launched off the ground, one foot slamming against the curved base of the streetlight. His werewolf reflexes kicked in — the momentum vaulted him upward, foot pressing against the pole one more time as he kicked off with full force, catapulting himself into the air like a blur of red and sweat.
With perfect timing, he caught the edge of the rooftop.
Saki gasped as he landed neatly on the railing itself, crouched low, one hand steadying him while the other held out the slightly cracked popsicle.
Breathing a little hard. Smiling like a dumb hero in a shoujo manga.
“Still want it?” he asked, like he hadn’t just performed rooftop parkour for frozen sugar water.
Snatched the popsicle from his hand and turned away, cheeks red.
He hopped down beside her and sat on the railing, legs swinging as she sat in the plastic chair nearby.
They sat in silence for a while.
The wind tugged at her hair. The sun dipped behind the rooftops. Their popsicles slowly disappeared.
“You should keep your hair down more often,” Maki murmured, his voice casual but full of quiet wonder.
“Not that you don’t look nice when it’s braided,” he added. “But when it’s down, you look kinda…”
Saki bit her popsicle harder than necessary.
“Say one more cheesy thing and I’m pushing you off this roof.”
The sun was slipping low, casting long shadows over the dorm rooftops.
Maki stayed perched on the railing, popsicle in hand, face glowing with smug satisfaction.
Saki was sitting nearby, chewing on her own popsicle with narrowed eyes.
“Seriously,” she said, not even looking at him. “You can get down now.”
“I’ll fall dramatically.”
She rolled her eyes. “I will push you.”
But before he could respond—
A sharp, commanding voice sliced through the rooftop air.
“WHAT do you think you're doing in the GIRLS’ dorm?!”
Maki and Saki both turned sharply.
Down below, standing with hands on her hips, was the dorm warden — a short, formidable woman in her late forties with a sleek bob and enough authority in her voice to make even grown wolves tuck their tails.
The warden’s eyes narrowed like a hawk. “Get. Down. Right. Now.”
Saki stood up in alarm. “You moron, you’re gonna get in trouble—!”
Maki groaned as he dropped from the railing to the ground with a soft thump. He waved sheepishly down at the warden.
“Sorry, ma’am! Just… handing off a popsicle!”
“Handing off—what are you, a flying ice cream vendor?!”
He turned to Saki with an awkward little grin. “She’s kinda scary.”
“She is,” Saki muttered, looking mortified. “Now leave."
Maki gave her a wink. “Later, beautiful.”
She threw the popsicle stick at him. Missed.
He jogged towards his dorm, hands in pockets, while the dorm warden shouted something about protocol and boundaries and student conduct behind him.
By the time he disappeared from view, Saki was left standing alone on the roof.
Looked down at her half-melted popsicle.
Then shook her head with a quiet laugh she tried very hard to suppress.
Shirtless. Hair damp from a shower. One leg kicked up, then the other. His blanket twisted around him like a snake as he rolled dramatically for the fiftieth time.
He stared up at the ceiling like it had all the answers.
He grinned like a lunatic.
He kicked his feet again like a schoolgirl on the phone with her crush.
He was too busy replaying the moment on the rooftop: her hair catching the sunlight, the way her eyes went wide when he landed, the tiny flush that crept up her cheeks when he handed her the popsicle and called her magical.
“Ugh, she looked so cute.”
He rolled over and groaned into his pillow.
His thoughts drifted then — past her blush and her laugh — to the way she had gone quiet when he mentioned flying. The way her voice had changed.
“That’s why I’ve never seen her in the sky,” he mumbled. “Even during fairy races at the high school sports meets… she never joined.”
She had always been there. Sitting in the stands. Cheering quietly.
His chest ached. He had unknowingly talked about her wings and inability to fly. Guilt filled his heart.
He stared at the ceiling, brows drawn together. “She wants to fly.”
He bit his lip, deep in thought.
What if… he could help her?
He wasn’t a genius. Or magical. Or anything delicate.
Arms strong enough to throw rugbyplayers across fields.
…But maybe not that crazy?
His brain circled back to his notebook — the one from three nights ago.
Step 2: Don’t say anything stupid.
He sat up suddenly, eyes wide.
The realization hit like a tackle.
He slapped his hand to his forehead.
“All the steps are done… all that’s left is—”
And then he flopped back dramatically onto the bed.
The sun rose, and so did Maki — with the kind of determination that came once in a lifetime and was usually followed by heartbreak or a movie montage.
He stood in front of the mirror in his dorm’s shared bathroom, eyes locked on his reflection.
His jaw was clenched. His shoulders were tense.
“No more running. No more being a coward.”
He ran his fingers through his hair, intentionally leaving it slightly messy — just the right amount of "ruggedly hot."
“Just tell her. She’s beautiful. Magical. Amazing. She smells like forest rain and cinnamon and your heartbeat goes stupid when she blinks.”
He slapped his cheeks twice.
He popped a few breath mints. A few more. Spit one out because it was too minty.
Checked himself in the mirror again.
Tight white shirt. Loose black joggers. That wolfish, boyish confidence.
Maki exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders.
“Today is gonna be fruitful.”
He grabbed his bag and walked out of the dorm like a man ready to marry the love of his life.
Today was going to be fruitful.
And as the break hour came around, he had just the right idea.
“She likes sweet things,” he mumbled to himself as he stood in line at the cafeteria. “I’ll get her that honey peach drink she always steals from Taki.”
He paid for it, carefully held it in one hand, and practically skipped his way down the hall. He saw her near the courtyard doors, about to head outside — her braid swinging, wings tucked beneath her cardigan.
He adjusted his posture. Cleared his throat. Smiled a little. His hands were sweating again.
“Saki!” he called, heart thudding.
In a blink, Maki had tripped over absolutely nothing — because of course he did — and the entire cup of cold honey peach juice went flying straight onto her sundress.
The straw bounced off her shoulder.
Maki froze too, still crouched, one leg twisted like a pretzel from the fall, eyes wide in horror.
Saki slowly looked down at herself, soaked in golden juice, eyes twitching.
“I didn’t—! I swear, I was trying to—!”
The sound echoed louder than the cafeteria bell.
Maki’s face snapped to the side, and his heart dropped lower than the spilled drink on the tile.
She just turned and walked away stiffly toward the ladies' washroom, clothes dripping, her face red with anger and humiliation.
He just sat there, knees bruised, cheek stinging, and heart shattered.
Students stepped around the scene awkwardly. One of the cafeteria workers quietly swept up the cup and ice shards. No one said anything.
He slowly reached up and touched his cheek where she hit him.
His hand still held the receipt from the drink.
He took a deep breath and straightened.
She was the one he liked and there was no way a glitch was about to stop him.
As the day progressed, Saki had changed clothes and Maki had become determined to win her heart.
"I like your… uh… leaf dress thing. You look like a decorative salad." Maki said referring to her new change of clothes that consisted of a green fitted tee, a dark sage wrap skirt and skin tights paired with brown leg warmers and black loafers.
"Excuse me?" She deadpanned.
"I meant it’s—it’s nice! Earthy. Fresh. Not like the others who look like… grocery store salads?" Maki said as his voice laced with panic.
"Do you hear yourself?" Saki asked with an annoyed look.
WHACK—she smacks him with her sketchbook and storms off. He groans and slumps against the nearest tree.
"...I was gonna say she’s beautiful." He mumbled before groaning amd kicking a rock that then hit his head making him wince.
"You’re the only one who doesn’t smell annoying." Maki said nervously.
"…What?" Saki replied as she looked at him, confused.
"I mean, I always know when you're near. You smell like wind and moss and—ugh, that sounds creepy. Forget it." Maki added, trying again.
"Is this another backhanded insult?" Saki asked while narrowing her eyes.
"No! It’s like... pleasant! You're just... aromatically tolerable!" Maki exclaimed, panicking after seeing the look on her face.
Saki hits him with her tote bag. Again.
"You have exactly three brain cells." Saki said before walking past him with a huff.
"That are in love with you." Maki mumbled to himself before pouting.
"I think about you a lot before bed." Maki blurted out.
"…What?" Saki stopped mid-step before slowly turning to face him.
"NOT LIKE THAT. I mean like… your hair. Not your—NO. NOT LIKE THAT EITHER." Maki said quickly after realising how wrong it sounded.
"I swear to the moon—" Saki said in annoyance before cutting her sentence as she smacked him with her rolled-up class notes and stomps off red-faced.
"WHY do words betray me?" He groaned before scratching his head aggressively.
Saki was packing up her things under her favorite tree when Maki walked over, determined this time to be smooth. He was rehearsed and ready.
“So… I was thinking… if you're always grounded, maybe that's why your grades are so high. Not a lotta distractions when you don't fly, huh?” Maki said after clearing his throat nervously.
“…What did you just say to me?" Saki asks, voice low and warning.
"I MEANT—you’re smart! I just meant… like, you have more time to study ‘cause you’re not flying around?? Like the other fairies do. Not in a bad way! Like—" He tries to fix it after realising she might not have liked what he said.
Her shoulder bag slams into his side with fairy fury. His eyes widen, and he stumbles back, wincing and gasping.
"Ow—what is in that thing, bricks?!" Maki says while groaning in pain and about to follow her.
"Stay!" Saki snaps and commands.
She disappears down the hill, not sparing him a glance.
He straightens up slowly, still rubbing his ribs, stunned.
“…Did she just… tell me to stay?”
Maki scowls and asks himself.
“…I mean I am—but not like that.”
He huffs, crosses his arms. He stares at the spot where she vanished, whining softly.
He then sits. Right there. Under the tree. Grumbling about how that was uncalled for
“I hate and love how powerful she is.” He mumbled, feeling grumpy.
It had been a week since the fallout.
Seven long days of embarrassment, shame, and the distinct scent of failure that still clung to him.
Maki had thrown a rugby ball at the ceiling.
He’d chewed through two pillows.
He nearly tackled Yuma on Tuesday just for humming Saki’s name by accident.
He growled at Jo for suggesting he “just move on.”
The sky outside the dorm windows was soft with warm light.
And Maki was slumped across the entire common room couch like a corpse, face half-buried in a throw pillow, tank top rumpled, a single breath mint on his chest like a fallen medal.
Across the room, Taki munched on cookies while scrolling on his phone. He peeked over lazily and said:
“She kinda hates you. So like… why are you even still into her?”
Maki slowly raised his head from the pillow.
“Are you being for real right now?”
His eyes blazed like Taki had insulted his mother.
Maki sat up straight, eyes wild, voice loud.
“She’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my entire life, okay? Like—stupid, jaw-dropping, eye-burning, ethereal levels of pretty. She looks like she came from a magical tree with sparkling wings and baby deer at her feet. And when her hair’s down? I can’t breathe. I forget how to function as a person. I literally bumped into a door last week because she laughed.”
Taki slowly lowered his cookie.
“And she’s not just pretty! She’s cool! She doesn’t care about people’s opinions, she reads books with those little tabs in them, and she wears flowy skirts and draws wings all over her sketchbooks and has this weird way of rolling her eyes when she’s pretending not to smile but I KNOW she wants to smile because her nose scrunches a little when she’s fighting it—”
Harua peeked in from the hallway.
“He’s doing it again,” he whispered.
Maki stood up now, pacing like a wild animal.
“—and she smells like the woods after it rains! Not perfume-y like other girls, but like real trees and sunlight and bark and it makes my heart do that thing where it feels like it’s gonna explode but in a nice way!”
“Like a heart attack?” Jo offered, poking in from the kitchen.
“YES! A LOVE HEART ATTACK!”
Taki raised his brows. “Dude…”
Maki finally dropped back onto the couch, flushed and panting like he just ran laps.
His eyes locked on the ceiling, starry and dramatic.
“…She’s Saki. There’s no one like her. She’s… her.”
Taki took another bite of his cookie.
“…Okay, yeah. That was kinda poetic.”
Everyone’s heads snapped toward the source of the noise.
The sliding glass door to the dorm’s backyard patio was open.
And standing just outside it, surrounded by scattered flower pots and a bag of snacks she brought as an apology fallen on the ground.
Taki’s cookie dropped to the floor.
Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Saki was still holding the drink she had just fetched from the vending machine. The straw had slipped from her lips. Her fingers were gripping the cup like it was the last tether to reality.
Her gaze slowly shifted to Maki.
To his flushed cheeks. His messy hair.
His entire dorm audience.
He could feel the blood rushing up his neck, exploding behind his ears, his wolf instincts SCREAMING to run.
Instead, all he managed to say was:
“…H-How long were you standing there…?”
Her voice was quiet. Shaky.
“Since… the she's incredible thing.”
Maki leapt off the couch like he’d been electrocuted, flailing his arms, eyes wide in absolute panic.
“I—I MEANT THAT IN A COOL WAY!!” he blurted. “NOT LIKE—ACTUAL MEDICAL—IT’S—LIKE—A FEELING—”
Saki just stared, still stunned, drink completely forgotten in her hand.
Maki looked around at the others in pure horror.
Taki whispered, “You’re screwed.”
“Listen—WAIT—okay—okay, that came out all wrong—actually, no, it came out exactly how I meant it but I didn’t think you’d hear it!”
He was full-on panicking now. Heart racing. Hands flapping.
“It was supposed to be private screaming!! With the boys!!”
Saki blinked. “So you think I smell like bark?”
“...he did say that.” Taki added.
“GOOD bark!! Like—like nature bark! Not like... old wood. Like sexy—no, wait, not sexy bark—”
Harua slapped a hand over his own mouth.
Saki slowly blinked again.
Leaving the back door wide open behind her.
The only sound was the click of her sandals and the quiet flutter of her cardigan as she disappeared back down the path.
Maki slumped against the wall, breath gone, face in hands.
“I need to leave the country.”
Her face was burning red, her eyes wide in horror, and her hand clamped tightly over her mouth as if that could somehow keep the chaos inside her from spilling out.
Her mind was a blur. She barely registered the trees, the breeze, the path under her feet. All she could hear was the echo of his voice.
She’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my entire life.
She’s Saki. There’s no one like her. She’s… her.
GOOD bark!! Like—like nature bark! Not like... old wood. Like sexy—no, wait, not sexy bark—
“OH MY GOD.” she squeaked into her palm, stumbling around the corner behind the dorms and nearly faceplanting into a bush. Her heart was thudding so loudly it felt like the whole campus could hear it. Like the entire town was probably hearing it.
She darted behind the nearest tree, back pressed hard to the trunk, trying to breathe.
“What was that?!” she gasped, eyes wild.
She bent over slightly, covering her mouth with both hands now, heat rushing to her ears. Her drink was still in her hand but she didn’t even notice the drops slipping from the straw and onto her skirt.
“He likes me?!” she whispered-shouted. “He likes ME?!”
Her legs almost gave out.
She dropped her drink onto the grass and slid down to sit behind the tree, completely overwhelmed. Her hands were still over her mouth, but she couldn’t stop the flood of thoughts in her head.
That voice—his voice—when he said it. It wasn’t mocking. It wasn’t teasing. It had been… serious. Soft. Almost shaky.
And all those words—those stupid, perfect, panicked words—had come from him.
The Maki who tripped over nothing and always said the worst things. The Maki who teased her since high school. The Maki who once barked at a vending machine for taking his money. That Maki had just said she was beautiful. Magical. That he noticed when she tried not to smile.
Her heart gave a massive, reckless thump.
This couldn’t be real. She must have been hallucinating. That must’ve been another werewolf in the dorm.
“Stupid, dumb, big idiot,” she muttered into her hands. “Why’d you have to say it like that?”
She took a deep breath and leaned her head back against the tree, staring up at the fluttering leaves.
But her heart kept beating louder, faster, like it had known all along.
And her lips were still trying not to smile.
Saki was walking past the quiet neighbourhood park, still trying to cool down, when she heard it.
She turned slowly, heart instantly picking up speed, and there he was — Maki, standing under the shade of a tree, hair tousled from running, a little breathless, and looking at her like she was the only thing in the world.
Her face began to heat up.
He took a step closer, then stopped, clearly nervous. He scratched the back of his neck, gulped once, then tried to speak.
“I, uh… what I said back there—” he looked everywhere but at her, “I’m sorry if you didn’t like it. I just—” his voice cracked a little and he winced, “You’re… oh my gosh, I don’t know what to say but I’ll say this—”
He finally looked into her eyes.
He didn’t even get the last syllable out.
Because Saki’s hands flew up, cupped his face, and she kissed him.
Right there. Right in the middle of the path. Soft and deep and with so much heat that Maki’s eyes almost popped out of his head.
His brain short-circuited. His heart howled.
Her lips were warm. She tasted like peach juice and magic. He forgot how to breathe.
When she finally pulled back, her eyes were wide, panicked, and her voice came out in a frantic gasp.
“That—That wasn’t supposed to happen!” she blurted, hands still hovering near his face. “I—I'm so sorry—!”
But Maki just stared at her like he’d been struck by divine lightning. His lips were parted, cheeks flushed, breath ragged.
Then, slowly, he reached up, cupped her cheeks, and kissed her back.
This time, he didn’t hesitate.
And this time, she kissed him back just as hard.
They didn’t need to say anything more.
Because the bark-scented, emotionally-stunted werewolf and the wingless fairy princess had already said it all — in the mess, in the flailing, in the chaos, and in the quiet.
And now, in a kiss that had been three years and multiple slaps in the making.
They slowly broke apart, breath mingling in the summer air, foreheads still close, faces flushed, hearts racing.
Maki stared at her like she’d just rearranged his entire universe with one kiss.
Saki shyly tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, still trying to catch her breath. Her lips tingled, her cheeks were practically glowing, and she couldn’t look away from his stupidly handsome, dazed face.
“So…” Maki muttered, voice a little hoarse, lips pink and just slightly swollen, “I reckon you like me too?”
Saki let out a tiny laugh through her nose, eyes crinkling as she hummed softly and gave a small, shy nod. “Maybe just a little.”
His grin bloomed instantly — boyish, crooked, so full of joy it made her stomach flutter.
They stood there for a second, caught in a soft, awkward silence, both of them fidgeting with their hands like middle schoolers with a crush.
Then Maki cleared his throat.
“I… kinda wanna do it again,” he mumbled, looking at her from under his lashes.
Saki’s face went redder than ever, and she rubbed her sleeve against her warm cheek.
“…I kinda want to do it again too.”
They stared at each other.
Their lips met again, with a little more desperation this time, a little more certainty. His hands settled gently at her waist, hers curled around his shirt, and they melted into each other like they’d been waiting their whole lives to do this.
It wasn’t perfect. It was clumsy, breathy, eager. His nose bumped her cheek, her fingers fumbled in his hair — but neither of them cared.
From behind a tree, Jo watched in horror, face blank.
He’d followed Maki out of worry. But now?
He was witnessing full-on makeout madness in a public park.
“…I should’ve stayed in bed,” he muttered, dead inside.
Maki and Saki kissed again—deeper, more desperate.
“I came for friendship. I got trauma.”
And with that, he trudged back to the dorm, whispering to himself, “Never again.”
You never know, I might just post frat boy/ bad boy Maki one day.
I hope y'all liked it 🥹 ✨️
Likes and rebloggs are appreciated 🤍 ✨️
