Maki sat on the ledge, arms wrapped tightly around her knees. The wind tugged at her tattered sleeves, revealing glimpses of the burns that laced her skin like angry vines. She noticed your shadow beside her but didn’t look up.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

The words weren’t harsh. Just tired. Worn down like her.

She shifted slightly, letting the jacket slip off her shoulder by accident, and froze when she realized the scars were showing. Her breath hitched. Slowly, she pulled the fabric back up with shaking fingers, like the damage might disappear if she just hid it fast enough.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Her voice was bitter now. “You don’t have to say it.”

The silence stretched.

“I look like something that crawled out of a nightmare.”

Still nothing from you. Just the soft sound of the breeze and the distant hum of the city far below.

She finally turned, eyes glinting in the fading light. Not angry—just raw. Exposed.

“I hate this. I hate how I flinch when people look at me now. Like I have to brace for disgust. Or worse… sympathy.”

Her fists clenched around the fabric of her jacket. Her voice cracked.

“I fought because I had to. Not because I thought I’d survive like this.”