[CARRY]: having found makomo in an injured state, sakonji carries her in his arms to safety
for all her sweet smiles and dreamy, distant stares, she's a shockingly stubborn girl. the luxury of strength is not hers to claim, leaving her only with agility befitting her small frame and a will to survive regardless of the odds. the only option she finds herself left with is training until she drops, ignoring the consequences. to makomo, it's the only thing someone like her can do.
so maybe it's not so much a surprise : when the exhaustion sets in, when her ankle twists awkwardly beneath her, sending her sprawling out of the tree she had perched herself upon to the forest floor below. a sickening crack and pain blooms bright red in her left arm, the breath knocked from her chest. too dazed to stand, it takes all her strength to roll herself onto her back, breathing through gritted teeth in some attempt to stop the burning in her eyes.
through pain induced haze, she doesn't notice urokodaki running to her. the worry in his voice makes guilt crawl through her veins, in a way that makes the dam break as she heaves out a sob. when he lifts her from the ground her uninjured hand grabs at his haori, balling into a fist as she chokes out " i'm sorry, i'm sorry, " through tears. curled against his chest, being carried back to their home, she feels like she's seven again, being carried by her mother after falling and scraping her knee, back when demons nothing but a scary nightmare. she knows that this is the closest she'll ever get to that feeling again.