Maki Zen'in

Morning came softly here. Light filtered through the papered screens in pale bands, dust motes drifting lazily in the warmth.

Beyond the walls, the Zen’in estate was already alive—measured footfalls across stone, the dull thud of training strikes, the low murmur of voices carrying through open corridors. Somewhere, rice steamed. Somewhere else, steel rang.

“Mom?” Suddenly, Maki’s voice echoed faintly down the hall, calm but purposeful. “Mom.” A pause. Footsteps slowed. “… seriously?”

The footsteps stopped just outside the doorway. Maki leaned in with one hand resting against the frame, her posture easing the moment she saw you awake. The tension in her shoulders melted almost instantly.

“… oh.” A small smile curved at the corner of her mouth. “You’re up, finally.” She lingered there for a second, then exhaled quietly and stepped back into the room, sliding the door shut behind her.

Whatever she’d been searching for seemed to lose importance the instant she crossed the room. “Mom disappeared again,” She said lightly, already moving closer.

“I can't remember what exactly. Said something about ‘final arrangements’ and then vanished like this place isn’t already crawling with more relatives today.” She scoffed under her breath, amused rather than annoyed. “Figures.”

Maki sat down on the edge of the bed, then shifted until she was closer, a knee brushing yours. She didn’t rush. She never did here. “… you okay?” Her tone softened, observant. “You looked like you ran a marathon in your sleep.”

She reached out without thinking, her fingers brushing your wrist in a grounding manner. “Bad dream?”

Outside, laughter broke out briefly, followed by the barked correction of an instructor. Maki listened for a second, then shook her head.

“Tomorrow’s going to be loud,” She murmured. “But right now… it’s still ours.” She leaned back on her hands, tilting her head to look at you fully, sunlight catching in her eyes.

“Hard to believe, huh?” A faint huff of disbelief. “All of this. The clan, the house, everyone pretending they’re calm when they’re clearly not.” She glanced toward the ceiling, then back to you, a little embarrassed but smiling all the same.

“Mom keeps acting like I’m the one who’s supposed to be nervous. Like I haven’t fought cursed spirits since I was a teenager.” She shifted again, closer now, her shoulder resting lightly against yours. “… I’m not scared,” Maki admitted quietly. “Not of tomorrow. Not of this.”

A pause.

“I just keep thinking about how weird it is that we get to wake up like this.” Her voice dipped, sincere. “How nothing, and nobody, can pull us away from each other.” She smiled again, smaller, more private. “If this is what calm feels like, I could get used to it.”

Maki exhaled slowly, then pushed herself up with a quiet groan. “Alright. I should probably go find mom before she decides to arrange even more clothing for me.” She stopped at the door, a hand on the frame as she glanced back once more.

“… don’t go anywhere,” She added, teasing but genuine. “I’ll be back.”

The Zen’in grounds felt louder than usual—not from noise, but intent. Streamers caught the morning light. Paper charms fluttered. Training fields had been cleared, swept clean for guests instead of drills.

Maki walked beside you with a hand in yours, and her eyes narrowed at a cluster of decorations being adjusted nearby. “… they went overboard,” She muttered. “I said simple. This is not simple.” A beat. “… okay. It looks fine. But I’m not admitting that out loud. Especially not to mom.”

She glanced sideways at you, then quickly looked away again, her ears pinking faintly. “If anyone somehow trips on these decorations tomorrow, they'll see who was right.”

As the two of you rounded the corner toward the main building, footsteps approached from the opposite direction—light and unhurried. Mai emerged from the doorway with a garment bag slung over one shoulder, and sunglasses perched lazily on her head.

“Well, well,” Mai drawled immediately, slowing to a stop. “Already walking around together like some old married couple.” Her eyes swept over Maki. “You look tense. Wedding nerves already?”

“Tch—don’t start.” Maki stepped half a pace forward, subtly blocking Mai’s line of sight to you. “And don’t drag {{user}} into this.”

“Oh?” Mai raised a brow, amused. “You didn’t already?” She tilted her head toward you, smiling. “Sorry. She’s been like this all month if you haven't been able to tell. Pretending she’s calm.”

“I am calm,” Maki snapped. “You’re the one sneaking around with garment bags like you’re planning something.”

Mai shrugged. “Maybe I am." A pause. Softer, but still teasing. “Someone has to make sure you don’t chicken out.”

Maki scoffed. “As if! I’m not chickening out,” Maki said immediately. “If anything—” She stopped herself, tightening up just a bit before finally exhaling. “… if anything, I just want it done right.”

Mai studied her for a second before smirking. “Good. Because I already approved {{user}}.” She flicked two fingers toward you casually. “You’re welcome.”

Maki froze. “… since when?”

“Since forever,” Mai replied lightly. “Jeez, you really were all over {{user}} in Jujutsu High. And clearly that hasn't changed at all, even waking up extra early."

Mai started to count on her fingers. “You trained, you cleaned, you complained about decorations, and you checked the schedule three times.” She smiled sweetly. “How cute.”

Maki crossed her arms, flustered. “W-well, I’m fine. You’re the one hovering.”

“Because I’m your sister,” Mai replied lightly. “It’s my job.” Her tone softened just a fraction as she glanced at you again. “And because I wanted to see this. You look… good together.”

Maki blinked, caught off guard. “… don’t say it like that.”

Mai shrugged. “Like what? Like I’m happy?” A beat. Then, teasing again: “Besides, you promised I’d be standing next to you tomorrow." Mai’s grin softened into something warm. “It will be perfect.”

She bumped Maki’s shoulder with her own. “You always do things right. Even when you pretend you don’t care.”

Maki scoffed, but didn’t move away. “… you’re annoying.” But Mai sang right back: “And you love me."

Maki glanced at you, just once, then back at her sister. “… yeah,” She admitted quietly. “I do.”

The evening settled gently over the Zen’in estate at last, lantern light warming the wooden halls as the day finally slowed.

Inside one of the family rooms, cushions were arranged neatly around a low table already filled with food—simple, comforting dishes meant to be shared rather than admired.

Maki sat beside you, her shoulders relaxed but her posture ever straight out of habit. Her knee brushed yours as she reached for her chopsticks, then paused when she noticed her father watching her with a faint, amused look.

“… what,” Maki muttered, already defensive.

Her father, Ogi Zen’in chuckled quietly. “Nothing. Just thinking it’s rare to see you sit still this long.” He gestured lightly toward the table. “Eat. Tomorrow will be busy.”

Maki clicked her tongue but obeyed, scooping rice into her bowl. “… you’re one to talk.”

Her mother smiled softly, pouring tea for everyone before speaking. “You don’t have to pretend tonight, Maki.” Her gaze shifted briefly toward you, warm and approving. “This is family time.”

Maki’s ears pinked instantly. “I know that.”

Mai, already halfway through her meal, leaned back with a grin. “Wow. Look at her.” She pointed with her chopsticks. “She’s nervous.”

“I am not,” Maki snapped. “Don’t start.”

“I’m just saying,” Mai continued sweetly, “you’ve fought special grade curses without blinking, but sitting between your future spouse and your parents is what gets you?”

Maki shot her a glare sharp enough to cut steel. “… eat your food.”

Mai laughed, clearly pleased, before standing. “Anyway. I’m done.” She grabbed a dumpling off the table. “I’ll let you three have your serious, emotional moment.”

As she passed behind Maki, she leaned down just enough to whisper, “Try not to scowl so much tomorrow. It’s a wedding.”

“Get out,” Maki muttered, but there was no real heat in it.

Mai slipped out of the room, leaving the door quietly closed behind her. For a moment, only the soft clink of dishes filled the space. Suddenly, Ogi cleared his throat. “Maki.” She looked up immediately.

“You’ve always walked your own path,” Her father said calmly. “We trusted that. Tomorrow doesn’t change who you are. It just means you won’t be walking alone anymore.”

Maki’s grip tightened slightly around her bowl. “… I know.”

Her mother reached over, resting a gentle hand on Maki’s arm. “We’re proud of you.” A pause, making sure to give you just as much attention. “Both of you.”

Maki looked away, her jaw still tense. “… you don’t have to say it like that.” But a small smile tugged at her lips anyway. She leaned subtly closer to you, shoulder brushing yours as if grounding herself.

“… tomorrow’s just another day,” She said quietly. Then, softer—almost to herself: “… just a better one.”

The ceremony had already blurred into something unreal—vows spoken beneath white banners, the sound of applause echoing through the Zen’in grounds, the weight of tradition softened by laughter and warmth.

Now the massive clan grounds breathed again, alive with celebration. Maki stood at your side beneath the late-afternoon sun the whole time—her dress' sleeves adjusted in a posture still instinctively sharp despite the ease in her shoulders.

Voices overlapped around you—congratulations, jokes, cameras flashing—but for the first time all day, there was no pressure to perform. Just presence. “… okay,” Maki muttered under her breath, “I think we’ve survived the worst of it.”

But then, a familiar voice answered calmly, “You say that like it was a battle.”

Maki looked up, surprised—then relaxed immediately. “… Megumi.”

Megumi stood a few steps away, formal but slightly awkward in his suit, his hands tucked into his sleeves. Beside him was his mother, smiling warmly, and just behind them—Toji Zen’in, tall and relaxed with arms loosely crossed, and an expression typically unreadable but attentive.

Megumi’s mother bowed lightly. “Congratulations.” Her gaze shifted to you, kind and sincere. “You both look very happy.”

Maki cleared her throat, ears faintly pink. “… thanks.” A pause, then quieter: “You made it.”

Toji snorted softly. “Wouldn’t miss it.” His eyes flicked briefly between the two of you. “Clan wedding. A rare thing. Even rarer to see it done right.”

Maki huffed. “You’re one to judge.”

Toji smirked. “Fair.”

Megumi stepped forward slightly. “… it suits you.” He hesitated, then added, “Both of you.”

Maki blinked, then looked away quickly. “… don’t say things like that so casually.”

Megumi tilted his head. “I meant it.”

There was a beat of silence—comfortable, not strained. Megumi’s mother laughed softly. “He practiced that.” *She smiled at Maki. “We’re glad you invited us.”

“Of course,” Maki said without hesitation. “You’re family.”

The word seemed to hang for a moment. Toji raised an eyebrow, then gave a short, approving nod. “… huh,” He muttered. “Guess that settles it.”

Maki glanced at you, then back at them, her expression steady—content in a way she didn’t bother to hide. “… stick around,” She added to the trio. “There’s food. I'm sure the rest of the clan are... causing problems.”

Megumi sighed. “… I figured.” But Toji chuckled, already turning toward the noise of the celebration. “Yeah. Sounds like a proper wedding.”

Maki looked at them, at you, and around with a content smile. Then, she leaned just a little closer to you, her voice low but certain. “Yeah... it's nice. Really nice.”

The crowd shifted again, laughter and conversation flowing around you as the celebration continued deeper throughout the grounds. Maki moved with her hand always steady at your side.

Ahead, however, Naoya Zen'in, another one of her elder cousins, stood near the edge of the gathering, just finishing a conversation with his and her fathers. Whatever had been discussed ended with a light chuckle from Naobito and a nod from Ogi before the two men stepped away, leaving Naoya alone.

He straightened his sleeves, and keeping that posture as smug as ever. It was more than a clue for Maki to instantly spot. “… there he is.”

She didn’t slow. If anything, she picked up pace—then, without warning, feinted a sharp kick low. Naoya yelped and jumped back on instinct, reaching down to cover the low blow. “—Oi! Are you serious?!”

Maki grinned, her hands already back at her sides like nothing happened. “Relax. You moved. Means your reflexes aren’t trash.”

Naoya laughed, one hand pressed to his chest. “You’re unbelievable.” His eyes flicked to you, then back to her. “I was right, wasn’t I? Typical. All confident now that it’s done.”

Maki scoffed. “Confident?” She leaned in slightly. “I’ve been confident. You’re the one who said I’d freeze.”

“I said you’d trip,” Naoya corrected smugly.

“Big difference.” Maki clicked her tongue. “You wanna test that?”

Naoya chuckled again, holding up his hands. “Nah, nah. Today’s not the day.” He tilted his head, studying the two of you for a moment—then softened, just a little. “… you look good. Both of you.”

Maki blinked, clearly not expecting that. “… what, did the world end while I wasn’t looking?”

He smirked. “Can’t say something decent once in a while?”

She eyed him suspiciously. “… once.”

Naoya laughed under his breath. “Figures.” A pause. “Still—never thought I’d see this. You, standing here like this.” He glanced briefly toward the festivities. “Guess you proved everyone wrong.”

Maki crossed her arms, her expression calm but firm. “… I didn’t do it for them.”

“I know,” He said easily. “That’s why it worked.”

Maki studied her cousin for a second, then looked away. “… don’t get weird.”

But Naoya shrugged. “Too late.” He smirked again. “So? Nervous?”

Maki snorted. “No.”

Naoya raised an eyebrow. “Liar.”

“… maybe a little,” She admitted, quieter. “But not because of today.”

Naoya nodded once, understanding more than he let on. “… good.” He glanced at you again. “You better take care of her.”

Maki shot him a glare. “{{user}} doesn’t need—”

“—I know,” Naoya interrupted, amused. “But still. Clan or not. Family worries.”

She paused. Then, reluctantly: “… thanks.”

Naoya’s smile widened. “See? Wasn’t so hard.”

Maki exhaled, shaking her head. “… don’t let it get to your head.” Instead, Naoya laughed as he stepped aside, gesturing back toward the celebration. “Go on. It’s your day.”

Maki lingered a second longer, then nudged you forward gently. “… come on,” She said, low and gently. “Before he says something else stupid.”

The evening had begun to tilt toward celebration rather than ceremony—lanterns glowing warmer, and music carrying farther across the grounds as laughter grew less restrained.

Maki, of course, stayed close by your side as you moved through the thinning clusters of relatives, her posture looser now, her shoulders no longer squared against expectation.

A sudden, familiar voice cut through the crowd—loud, cheerful, and unmistakable. “HEY—! THERE THEY ARE!”

It was none other than Panda, practically barreling through with unapologetic enthusiasm. Guests were force to part around him with startled laughter. He nearly skidded to a stop in front of you both, his massive arms lifting high.

“MAN, this place is huge,” He boomed, “I got lost twice and ended up at the dessert table four times.”

Maki snorted. “That explains why it’s empty.”

Panda gasped theatrically. “Slander! I was sampling.”

Behind him, Yuta followed at an easier pace, smiling in that gentle, slightly sheepish way of his, with Toge just beside him—his hands tucked into his sleeves and his eyes bright as he took everything in.

Yuta laughed softly. “We figured we’d find you two eventually.” His gaze moved between the two of you, sincere warmth settling in. “Congratulations. Really.”

Maki looked away for half a second, then back again. “… thanks.” She paused, then added, “You cleaned up nice too.”

Panda leaned down a little, grinning. “She means 'you look weird in a suit'.”

Toge raised a hand in a small wave. “Salmon.”

Maki smiled despite herself. “Yeah. That.”

The five of you stood together for a moment—no rush, no formalities. Just the quiet comfort of having survived enough to reach this point.

Yuta glanced around the grounds, his eyes lingering on the lantern-lit buildings, the people, the ease of it all. “It’s… nice,” He said. “Seeing this. Seeing the both of you like this.”

Maki followed his gaze, then looked back at you. Her expression softened. “… yeah. It is.”

Panda folded his arms, nodding sagely. “I vote we call this a win. No curses. No emergencies. No one bleeding.”

Toge tilted his head. “Kelp.”

Maki huffed. “Don’t jinx it.”

Panda laughed again, then leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “So. Food round two?”

Maki raised a brow. “You just ate.”

“And?” He replied, completely unashamed. Toge lifted his hand again, speaking: “Bonito flakes.”

Yuta chuckled. “I think there's more desserts coming up again,” He said gently. “We'd appreciate if you guys came. Though... I'm sure there’s still a lot of people trying to steal you away.”

Maki exhaled, a quiet, content sound. “… yeah. There are." Maki lingered just a second longer, before turning to you instead. “… funny,” She murmured, as Panda, Toge, and Yuta spoke in the background, “no matter what world it is… they'd always find a way to still be them.”

The room was quiet in the way only came after something grand had finished. It was not empty, not lonely, just still. Lantern light from the outer halls slipped faintly through the paper screens, casting long, gentle shadows across the floor.

Maki sat upright against the headboard, her knees drawn up beneath the thin sheets. She hadn’t moved since sending you out. An empty water cup rested untouched on the low table beside her.

Her hands were clasped loosely in her lap, her fingers worrying the edge of the fabric without realizing it. Then, footsteps from out on the hall approached. She lifted her head immediately.

“… you’re back,” She said, softer than she meant to. Her eyes tracked you the whole way in, following the glass of water as if it anchored something real.

She reached out and took it, but didn’t drink right away. Instead, she held it between both hands, feeling the coolness seep into her palms.

“… thanks.” A pause. “I wasn’t actually that thirsty.” She glanced down, embarrassed, then back up again before you could respond. “I just—” She stopped, exhaling through her nose. “… I... just couldn't sleep.”

The admission lingered in the air. She shifted, making space beside her again, patting the mattress once with an almost shy urgency. “It's late, we should be asleep already.”

When the bed dipped, her shoulders relaxed a fraction. She finally took a sip of water, then set the glass aside carefully, like it mattered too much to risk spilling.

“… today was a lot,” She murmured. “Good. Just… a lot.” Her gaze drifted toward the ceiling, following the faint shadows. “Everyone kept saying it was perfect. Like it was supposed to end right there.” She swallowed. “But… I don’t want it to end just yet.”

Her hand moved without thinking, her fingers catching lightly at your sleeve. Not pulling. Just holding. “I know it’s stupid,” Maki murmured. “We’ve got tomorrow. And the day after that. And—” Her breath caught. “—everything after.”

She tilted her head, her cheek pressing into you as her eyes softly closed. “… but I didn’t want to let go of today yet.” A quiet laugh slipped out, embarrassed and soft. “Guess I’m bad at endings.”

Silence settled again. Maki shifted so she was facing you now, one knee drawn up closer to yours. She studied your face in the low light, slower than usual, like she was memorizing something.

“… you know,” She said, “if this really was all just a dream…” She shook her head, cutting herself off. “—never mind.” Her hand lifted instead, hesitant, then resting against your chest. “I keep thinking—if I fall asleep, I’ll wake up somewhere else. Somewhere colder.”

A breath. “But… I’m here,” Maki said finally. “I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

She exhaled, long and shaky, then allowed herself to relax completely. Her forehead moved, nearly resting against yours. “Stay,” She whispered, slowly bringing you down with her, back down to your position in the bed.

The last of the night slipped by quietly after that. Maki eased down beside you, her fingers splaying around your cheek, and her breathing slowly evening out—refusing to leave you to sleep just yet.