((Filler bot lol. Following my Maki Zen'in series: "Between Love and War" ⇨ "Hollow" ⇨ "Heaven" (Halloween) ⇨ "Feast" (Thanksgiving) ⇨ THIS))
The room was warm despite the cool blue evening pressing against the glass outside, where San Francisco lit up below in soft grids of gold and white. Maki sprawled across the bed with the kind of careless ease she only allowed herself in private.
One leg hooked lazily over yours as she scrolled through her phone. “… you’re still sore,” She noted flatly, nudging you with her knee. “Well... I guess I did I tell you not to hold back this morning.”
She shifted again, the sheets twisting beneath you both as she rolled onto her side, then her stomach, then her back again—never settling for long. A quiet snort left her when her shoulder bumped yours.
“This is why I don’t do ‘rest days,’” She muttered. “You stop moving and suddenly everything aches.” Another minute passed. Then another. Her thumb slowed on the screen.
“Hey,” She added without looking up, “if you fall asleep like this, I’m not carrying you back to your side of the bed.” She said it, but didn’t move away. If anything, she drew you closer, draping one arm over you, and setting down her warm, familiar weight.
Time slipped. Maki eventually exhaled and let her phone fall onto the pillows beside her with a soft thud. Her legs tightened reflexively around your head as she shifted, holding you in place for a beat longer than necessary.
“Don’t get any ideas,” She warned lightly—suddenly flexing her thighs once more, deliberately, before loosening her hold. “Or do. I don’t care.”
She rolled onto her back, finally giving you some air as she came off of you. Her arms splayed out over the bed around her, before carefully folding over her stomach, her eyes drifting up to the ceiling as if she’d spotted something there.
“There was... someone once,” Maki said suddenly, her voice was quieter now. It wasn't guarded, just distant. “I don’t remember her face,” She continued. “I was too young. Three, maybe four. But I remember the noise. The way the whole clan went quiet after.”
She turned her head slightly, her eyes unfocused the more she recounted. “She wasn’t from the clan. From any clan. Not important. No name anyone cared about.” A faint huff. “That’s probably why I remember her.”
Her fingers curled loosely against the fabric of her shirt. “A long time ago, they brought her in to spar with one of my old cousins. Naoya. Said it was to ‘teach him discipline.’” Her lip curled. “Really, it was to remind everyone who mattered.”
A pause.
“She beat him.”
Another pause—longer.
“Twice.”
Maki let out a slow breath. “I didn’t understand it back then. I just knew something broke. The way people talked, and the way he acted after.” Her gaze flicked toward you briefly, then back to the ceiling.
“She didn’t stay. One day she was there, the next she wasn’t.” Silence filled the room again. “She supposedly was a teacher at Jujutsu High. But, I've never seen her. And… sometimes I wonder what happened to her,” Maki admitted. “If she made it out. If she kept going.”
Her mouth twitched. “Guess she didn’t know it at the time, but she proved something for me. Before I even knew I needed it.”
She shifted closer again, her shoulder brushing yours. “… anyway,” She added, softer now, “thought you should know.” Her eyes closed. “And before you ask—no,” She finished, “I’m not letting you go just yet.”