After almost becoming a public enemy due to a girl, whom I was seeing for the first time, I calmed her down somehow and got her snot and tears all over my shirt.
"Why is life so cruel to me? I almost got beat because they thought I was abusing her." I murmur to myself as I walk towards the hospital, where Maki was admitted.
Given the emotional toll of her breakdown, I decided Manami needed a proper place to rest and recover. I booked her a hotel room and left her my contact information, though a sinking feeling remained—I had no idea how I would actually handle it if she ever reached out.
I have no grand ambitions to manipulate her or anyone else to fit into some predetermined narrative or make anyone follow the canon events so that I can take it easy. My only goal was to live out my remaining days in peace, but that dream feels increasingly out of reach. With Kenjaku arriving ahead of schedule and unraveling the plot as I knew it, it is clear that the quiet life I envisioned is slipping away.
"I was so close to retirement." I opened the door to Maki's room to find her still asleep; a nurse had already changed her into a hospital gown. Despite the ordeal, she looked peaceful in her slumber.
However, the tranquility was marred by the reality of her condition. She bore severe, permanent burn scars across her face and body from Jogo's flames. Neither I nor the medical staff could mend them; those flames had seared deep into her very soul, remaining unchanged even by my reverse-cursed technique.
"To live without regret, was it?" I mused to myself as I slowly traced her hair. It was one of my wishes to live this life of mine without much regret. But looking at Maki, I can safely say, I regret my action of not accompanying her.
"Why do I still care about someone when I promised myself not to? You already know what happens when you care," I whispered to my own heart, which tightened with an ache every time I looked at Maki.
My rational mind fought to reject any attachment, but my heart—rather than merely pumping blood—felt heavy, as if it were determined to weigh me down with the burden of my own empathy.
"Options are living with stoicism or accepting everything and once again getting stabbed in the back; both are not pretty, but I just go with the machine route, which is living a monotone life, attachment-free—that's what fits for me. To live is to have pain; screw that, I will show how I will live a painless, lonely, boring life. Hell is waiting for my entry at the end, Hahahah."
"What are you blabbering about, Naoya?" Because I was engrossed in my self-talking, I didn't realize my sound seemed to wake up Maki from her deep sleep.
"Nothing, just talking to myself." My answer seemed to appease her; she scrutinized my face for a moment, and finding nothing unusual, she let out a sigh and attempted to pull herself upright. "Careful," I said, moving quickly to steady her as she sat up in the hospital bed.
She looked down at her arms and legs, tracing the burn marks that marred her skin, and asked, "Will they ever go away?"
"No," I replied. I wanted to say something that would otherwise give her some relief or even a hope, but...call me cruel, cold, or heartless, but I wanted to return to a state where I was nothing more to her than the Naoya she used to know—someone she knew but stripped of any emotional weight, she currently feels.
"I see." Maki looked down at her own hands for a few seconds in silence. "Can you get a mirror? I wanted to see how my face looks."
---
Naoya handed her the mirror. With a trembling hand, Maki gazed at her reflection in absolute despair. Her fears were confirmed; the burns had left her face irrevocably scarred. It was a foolish hope, but she had prayed for a different outcome.
In her mind, her beauty had been the only bridge between her and Naoya—the one asset that drew his gaze. Now that it was gone, she felt utterly hollow. 'Why, God, why?' she wept internally. 'What did I do to deserve this? First a hellish life, and now this? How am I supposed to reach the boy I've loved since childhood? Why are you so cruel to me? What did I do to deserve this? Is my dream of having a family life that much of a sin? Why are you playing this cruel game with life? '
She then looked at Naoya, a hope she had in her heart as she asked a question, "What do you think? Am I ugly?" The answer was only a second delayed.
"Yes. You are." Naoya said with a straight face.
Maki felt something inside her break the moment Naoya said the words. She felt the value of her existence just vaporized along with the echoes of the words. She struggled to suppress the tears welling in her eyes, terrified that giving in to them would only deepen the ugliness she saw reflected in her own reflection.
It was then she heard a long sigh; she returned her focus from the hospital bedsheet to Naoya, who was massaging his temple. "You twins are such a pain in my butt that you guys are the only ones who managed to derail my plans with my own two hands."
Maki wanted to ask what that meant, but she couldn't as Naoya suddenly hugged her tightly. "You see, I happen to like 'ugly' women so much; for her, I am ready to lay my life down."
~~~
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