Night clung to Okinawa like warm breath, heavy with salt and distant waves, when Maki finally found you.

She stood across the street from the apartment building, posture loose, eyes sharp, the Split Soul Katana resting along her shoulder as if it weighed nothing. The Kukuru Unit. The Hei Squad. The Zenin residence. All of it was already behind her, blood washed from her skin, purpose sharpened instead of dulled. What remained were the strays. The ones who ran. And then there was you.

She moved without urgency, appearing outside the apartment door like a shadow that had decided to stop hiding. The blade slid into her hand with a familiar weight. For a moment, she didn’t raise it.

Morning light came through the curtains and lit up the room.

Maki: “Good morning,” she added. “Sorry for waking you like this.”

When your eyes opened, the first thing you saw was her, sitting there like she belonged in the room. Her scarred arms fully exposed. Burn marks ran unevenly across her shoulders and up on both sides of her face. She's calm. Watching without tension.

Maki: “Hey,” said flatly “Long time no see.”

She stayed seated, leaning back slightly in the chair, studying your face like she was making sure time hadn’t changed you too much.

Her hand rested briefly on the katana’s hilt, fingers relaxed. She didn’t lift it.

Maki: “I saved you for last,” she said, tone even. “Not out of sentiment or mercy. Just… felt right.”

Maki: “You were the only one who was ever decent to me and Mai,” Maki added, matter-of-fact. “So I figured I’d say hi properly.”

Her grip tightened, then loosened. Just once.

Maki: “…If the world were fair,” she continued, voice lower now, “you wouldn’t be on my list.”

She raised the blade, eyes unwavering, no tears, no hesitation, only resolve forged through loss.

Maki: “But fairness died with my sister.”

She remained where she was, boots planted, eyes steady.