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Maki.
The blood of the dead Zenin clan stains her hands but she exits the compound emotionlessly, her newly gained wounds a testament to her battles. Her gaze sweeps the grounds, taking in the sight of the mountains of corpses, Naoya’s bleeding body having dragged itself somewhere, her mother’s blood’s scent wafting through the air.
(To be honest, she couldn’t smell her mother here. The revolting scent of the rest of the Zenin was enough to drown her out. Or had she just blended in? She doesn’t know.)
Maki. You’re bleeding.
“I know,” she whispers to the air. “Wait a little longer. We can heal soon.”
You have to leave me behind.
“Never again.”
Truth to be told, now that she could finally see clearly, the Zenin clan had been...meager. She had expected something more, something more exhilarating. Instead, what she got was a bunch of egotistical assholes with their egos inflated to the size of Gojo Satoru’s despite their clear lack of power. It was laughable.
Her foot lands in something that squelches and she looks down to see a mass of flesh that had no doubt been someone’s head before she had killed them. She does not react much but she feels amusement swirl in her core as she kicks it to the side, watching and listening as it dunks into the water.
You’re destroying yourself, sis.
“They took away my heart,” she responds easily. “Destruction was bound to follow.”
Destroy everything but not yourself. Never yourself.
“That was not what you told me.”
…
Her beloved sister, her precious sister, the only person who understood even an inkling of the ideas that she supported, was now gone. In her absence, there is a gaping hole in Maki’s body, a hole where her heart once sat, surrounded by her ribs that promised safety only to turn on her heart and slaughter it.
Faintly, she wonders if all this could’ve been prevented if she had just listened to Mai and stayed with the Zenin clan instead of pursuing something bigger. Freedom was not worth losing Mai. She wonders if Mai would’ve lived had Gojo Satoru not been sealed. Her sensei would’ve come flying instantly had he sensed Mai’s life was in danger. She wonders if they would be alright had the Shibuya Incident never happened.
(She doesn’t remember much of it anymore. Her mind is a void of darkness and bloodlust pumps through her veins. Her heart is gone, ripped away from her cruelly by the man that called himself her father, leaving behind nothing but a shell. The world is a buzz around her and she can feel the call for blood in her core.)
I wish we could’ve seen the sea together again.
She hums. “So do I.”
We should go visit.
“Our plans…”
A respite and then destruction. Will you really deny me of my wishes?
“...no. I would never.”
You’re the best sister.
“I cannot carry your corpse around everywhere.” Indeed, that is a problem.
I am you and you are me. Where you go, I am also there. Where I am, you are also here. A physical body does not bind us.
“Ever-so-intelligent you are, Mai.”
Never smarter than you, Maki.
Her shoes tap against the concrete and she can sense another sorcerer nearby. Judging from the aura, it’s not a professional sorcerer. A friend, perhaps, if she’s lucky. Nishimiya Momo, if she’s unlucky.
Mai had friends. Faintly, Maki thinks she herself had friends too, but it’s slowly becoming muddled. Mai was the more popular one of the two. She knew how to be social despite her blunt remarks and she was the one that the other Kyoto students had flocked to, gathered around, and congregated in their own little flock.
(She doesn’t remember what happened to them. She doesn’t think she can remember, not without Mai’s help. She only remembers that one of them died and that of the remaining ones, she must look out the most for Nishimiya Momo.
She whispers her apologies in advance to Mai. She doesn’t think she can stay to watch Nishimiya Momo for Mai. She has so much she has to do.)
My sweet Momo. I’m so sorry.
Luck is not on her side. (It’s never on her side.)
As she makes her way down the concrete stairs, Nishimiya Momo comes rushing up the next flight, panic and fear in her eyes. She’s calling Mai’s name desperately and Maki sees the moment that Nishimiya Momo sees her, the latter’s expression widening with shock and dread as Maki’s expression remains carefully dull and blank.
“That’s why…” Nishimiya Momo grits her teeth and clutches her broom harder, “...I told her…” her eyes swell with tears and she chokes into a sob, “...not to go!”
Her sobs fill the air and Maki’s void aches slightly, reminiscent of her heart’s love for Nishimiya Momo. Gently, she removes Mai’s cold corpse from her shoulder, lowering it into Nishimiya Momo’s awaiting arms. The latter immediately gathers the corpse into her arms, pressing herself against it, as if her warmth could somehow bring Mai back to life. Her eyes are red-rimmed and she looks shaken, seeming as if her very existence is crumbling before her. Maki lingers for a brief moment, letting her fingers ghost over her heart’s cheek, before standing and turning away.
“I’ll leave the rest to you,” Maki says quietly. She wouldn’t be around for the funeral procession; she prays that Mai would forgive her.
“What are you going to do now?” Nishimiya Momo whispers. “Maki-chan.”
Maki doesn’t answer her. She leaves.
“You’ll stay with me, right?”
Yes. Always.