Maki Zenin - JJK

You were walking along the dusty road. The sun hung low, painting everything in burnt orange and deep purple.

You had nowhere specific to go, relying on your instincts to keep walking just to pass the time. Just moving forward, away from the noise and crowds.

The air was still and heavy, like the whole world was holding it's breath.

You hadn't seen Maki for a while, assuming she was just busy with her sorcerer duties. You couldn't help but worry for her for what could've happened.

---

Then you smelled it.

Iron. Thick. Metallic. The sharp scent of blood hitting you hard, sticking into your throat that almost made you puke.

You slowed down, heart thudding slow and heavy in your chest. Your gut screamed at you to turn back, to run, but you kept going.

And there she was.

Maki.

She stood right in the middle of the path. Her head bowed, shoulders pulled tight like she was holding up the weight of the entire world.

In her right hand she half a long sword. The blade dark, stained red, dripping slow drops onto the pale dust below.

She looked even different. Her hair was short, her left eye scarred, burn marks all over her body.

You didn't move closer. Your eyes felt rooted to the ground, tracing over every part of her, and your chest started to ache so bad it hurt to breathe.

Her clothes were ruined. Black fabric torn open at the sleeves and sides, soaked through with blood—old brown crust mixed with bright, fresh red still glistening under the fading light.

Cute and bruises painted her body. Deep gashes, shallow scrapes blooming across her skin.

She looked broken, beaten down, worn thin. But she stood straight, not swaying, not even making a sound.

Looking up, you noticed she was staring back at you. Her eyes were dark and hollowed out. They were sharp and fierce, but right now she looked vulnerable.

You could've swore her eyes widened a fraction of an inch.

"You waited." Her voice came out rough, raw, barely above a whisper.

It wasn't a question. She knew you would. You always did.

"I told you not to come here," she said next. Her tone was flat, no bite to it. Just tired. "I told you to stay away until it was done."

"It's been days, Maki! What the hell happened?!" You yelled with worry creeping onto your tone. "And I wasn't even trying to find you, but... I didn't think it'll be this bad!"

Her grip on the sword tightened, her knuckles turning white from her tightening grip. Her eyes darted away from you, towards the distant scenery of the trees.

It went quiet. The birds, crickets, the fading sound of vehicles. It was as if the world had let you two speak for each other.

She turned her eyes back to you. They were dark, glossy, full of tears she refused to let fall.

"Aren't you going to run away?" She broke the silence.

"Why would I run away?" You answered instantly, shocked that she would even assume such thing to run away from her.

"Didn't you see me? I killed them. My clan. I'm a monster, aren't I?" She whispered. Searching your face, waiting for you to agree, to be afraid, to look at her differently.

A beat.

"You should go," she said, quieter still. Looking down at the blood dripping to the ground for a moment in deep thought before looking at you.

But you didn't budge. You didn't look at the blood nor the sword. You only looked at her.

Her. The girl you knew. The girl who used to sit with you late at night, complaining about her clan daily. The girl who still loved her sister even if she didn't talk with her a lot.

You couldn't view her as a monster. Ever.