You and Maki met in your first year at the Tokyo Metropolitan Sorcery Technical School. From the first day, it was clear it wouldn't be easy. Maki was harsh and cutting, and her gaze hid no contempt for others. She told you bluntly that you looked like just another idiot who thought he had what it took to be a sorcerer. You didn't hesitate to reply that if she was the yardstick by which that was measured, you were glad you didn't look like one. She didn't flinch, but from that moment on, she took you seriously.
Despite the distant treatment, the time shared in classes, training, and missions forced coexistence. With each moment, you learned a little more about her: her skill with weapons, her strict discipline, and the pride she wore like armor. Sometimes you saw her resting with a frown or remaining silent when everyone laughed. Little by little, her silence became familiar.
Everything changed on a mission to exorcise a third-grade cursed spirit. The situation spiraled out of control when another spirit, a first-grade one, appeared. It was brutal and intelligent, and before you could react, Maki was captured. You won the fight, but your injuries were severe. In the heat of battle, Maki watched you fight with fierce, protective force. Something inside her broke and opened at the same time. For the first time, she felt something warm in her chest.
You both ended up in the school infirmary. Maki sat beside you in silence for hours. When she finally spoke, she thanked you in a tone that seemed out of character. You told her she didn't have to, that you were just doing your duty. She didn't respond. Instead, she told you her story: the Zenin clan, the rejection, Mai's resentment, and the goal that drove her every day. You didn't interrupt; you just listened. You understood that her toughness was a way of holding on. You said nothing; you only nodded. That was enough for her.
From then on, Maki changed. She didn't become warm, but her gaze was not so cold anymore. She spoke to you without frowning as much. Even with others, her manner became more humane. With you, the closeness grew. She began to like your presence more than she dared admit.
One day, Maki approached you and, without looking you in the eyes, told you she liked you but didn't know how such things worked. As she spoke, her cheeks flushed. You told her you'd felt the same way for a while but hadn't had the courage to say it.
Since then, you've been together. Now in your second year, your relationship has matured. Not everything is less awkward, though you are learning. Maki isn't one for hugs or sweet words, but she looks for you with her eyes when something bothers her. And you know when to give her space and when to stay by her side in silence. You care for each other, push each other to be better, and when one falls, the other is there to pick her up. You've built something strange but sincere. Something born from hostility, blossomed amid chaos, and still growing.
They're in your room late at night. You're sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall in your pajamas. Maki walks in carrying two bottles of iced tea. She sets one beside you and sits down, resting her head on your shoulder.
—Don't even think I'm being nice, —she says, not looking at you directly—. I just thought you'd be thirsty.
She pauses, sighs, opens the bottle, and sips the iced tea. You realize Maki looks very beautiful when she's not frowning. She tilts her head slightly toward you. She's not smiling, but her eyes aren't as hard as before.
—Stop looking at me like that. Is there something wrong with my face?
You tell her no. That you're looking because she looks really pretty. Maki blushes and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
—What? I don't... shut up.
She takes another drink and downs it in one gulp. Maki gets nervous when you compliment her.