Archive of Our Own

Maki didn't have a soulmate. 

It shouldn't be surprising: luck had never been on her side after all. It truly had been foolish of her to expect life would grant her the smallest mercy of being normal. But ever since she'd been a child, her mother had shaken her head in humiliation. No mark.

Mai had one. The tips of her fingers in the right hand, ink black splotches of fate against her pale skin, were a signifier of normalcy. There was someone out there for her. Someone who would understand her and love her just like she was, family shame and everything. Someone who would make the darkness explode in a million colors with a single touch. She'd caught her sister staring longingly at her mark when she thought no one was looking more than once. It was sort of a light at the end of the tunnel, a glimmer of hope for true love.

But of course, there wasn't such luck for the cursed, no rest for the wicked. She examined her body up and down, stood in front of the bathroom mirror for hours, looking for the tiniest tinge of black, the smallest of marks, something.

Needless to say, she never found anything. 

First heartbreak of her life. 

Time healed anything, or at least it helped one forget. Maki let it go and focused on the important thing: getting out. At age sixteen, she found a school with a dorm system. It was expensive, but Megumi, her one good cousin (there was only one, really, the rest were Naoya and his diabolical, smaller versions) offered to help with his tutor's money. Even though it made her feel pathetic, she decided that pride was important but stubbornness never got anyone anywhere, so she accepted. 

Second heartbreak of her life came when Mai opposed her decision. Years later, she'd think back on their fight, and all she'd remember would be yelling, mentions of family and betrayal and a dull ache in her chest that never seemed to vanish.

So she went off alone as her sister cried words of hate at her back. Megumi drove her across town to the dorms and helped her settle in her new room, when it should have been Mai. He said nothing, but before he left, he patted her shoulder and left a schedule on her bed. 

Maki met people on her first day, or maybe she didn't. Just like with Mai, everything passed her by in a blur. She blinked, and her legs were dragging her out of her first class and into the other, then to another, then to lunch. 

It was okay. It wasn't good, she supposed, but definitely less bad. She breathed a little easier, even if her chest felt empty and cracked every time she missed her better half. But it could be worse, and it would get better, and that kept her hanging on. 

Three weeks in, she got paired up with two guys for a biology group project. Panda (he refused to disclose his real name) was tall, huge, adorable in his own right even if she would never admit it to his face, chatty but knew when to shut up. Inumaki Toge was his polar opposite: quiet, small, bordering on scrawny, face covered most of the time because he was allergic to so many things it would be easier to say breathing made him have to break out his EpiPen. 

They were nice. They had lunch with her and shared their water during gym if she forgot hers. They walked her to her room and asked for her help like friends did. 

She always smiled at the thought of them. This was how her it gets better started.

Four months passed. It did get better. Inumaki and Panda were no replacement for Mai, they never could be, but they lulled the pain into sleep with their kindness and offered perfect distractions outside of school. For the first time in years, she had fun. She didn't laugh per se, but she shook her head with a grin whenever Panda roped them into a new shenanigan. They supported her when she joined the track team and cheered for her during all of her competitions.

She was there when Panda met his soulmate. His left knuckles had always been dusted with black. He confessed he had taken up karate in the hopes of punching the someone who'd make the mark flare up, but it ended up being colored after a random walk through the park, where he had accidentally brushed hands with them . 

He scratched his neck and Maki and Inumaki exchanged a look.

"Panda?"

"Yes?" 

"Look at your hand." 

She had never seen someone's colored mark up close. Panda's was soft blue, hues of the sky prancing across his fingers. He was mesmerized. She turned away.

Inumaki's was hidden, the clear outline of a palm on his right shoulder. It took a little while until he shyly revealed it to them, still dark and untouched. Maki kept quiet when he did, scared they'd ask. 

They didn't.

On November 16th, a new student got seated next to her. Both his hands were covered in black tendrils. It was as if his dark hair wasn't natural and he hadn't been able to get all of the dye out of his skin. 

"Hi," he said. "My name is Okkotsu Yuuta." 

She didn't shake his hand. As stupid as it sounded, she really didn't want to touch him only to find out she wasn't his soulmate. Not that she wanted to, but seeing people's marks remain unchanged after she touched them hurt in more ways than one.

"Pay attention, Okkotsu." She turned to the board once again. "I'm not gonna catch you up to speed for the test."

Panda, ever the social butterfly, invited the new guy to sit with them at lunch. Maki watched him shake hands with both her friends, saw the black stains endure under their touch, as quiet and dark as the night sky. 

Okkotsu Yuuta was strange. He seemed to curl in on himself, always distancing himself. He liked to fiddle with a ring he wore, spinning it around the circumference of his finger with his thumb. He talked when spoken to and little else. He was kind but timid. He treated her well and smiled a lot. He fit right in with their group, the pastel paint of his existence blending perfectly in the blank spaces between their brushstrokes. 

He never tried to touch her and that meant the world to her.

There were, however, softer ways in which he got close. He carried her bag if she looked tired (frankly, she always did); he offered her slow conversation when they took breaks from studying in the library, always pleasant topics; he never lied.

Unlike the others, he wasn't afraid of the walls she put up. Rather, he found the loose bricks and gently pulled them out to peek inside.

"Maki?" He asked one movie night after Panda and Inumaki had long succumbed to sleep. The TV buzzed in front of them, some random characters she didn't care for having a dramatic conversation in it. "I have a question." 

Sleep was starting to weigh down on her, so she leaned her head on the backrest and looked at him. "Yes?" 

"Can I ask where your soul mark is?" 

Had she been more awake, she would have jolted and left, unable to meet his eye. Or maybe she would have punched him or yelled, or any reaction that was more appropriate than just blinking and considering her reply before uttering it carefully. "I don't have one." 

The lights flickered over his face, darkening half of it and making his features sharper. "Why?" 

Now that was something she'd never heard. Why don't you have a soul mark like everyone else? She didn't know. Why can't you be normal? She had never known. Naoya's mockery haunted her. Her mother's disappointment, his father's shame, even Mai's pity, things she'd managed to shake since she had left, came back, flooding her chest. One would have thought they would have made her crack right there and then, but maybe she was too tired to do anything but let them wash over her. Yuuta kept silent, waiting for her answer, no matter how long it took to come. She had the feeling he didn't necessarily want one. He wasn't asking for explanations. 

He'd be the first one.

"I don't know." 

His hand twitched. In the shadows, his own markings looked bigger, centipedes crawling over his body. She didn't really like them that much. "Maybe you just haven't found it yet. It could be hidden." 

"You really think I wouldn't have found it in sixteen years?" She chuckled bitterly. "It's simply not there. I don't have it. I don't have a soulmate." 

"What if you do, but you never touch them?" 

"That's infinitely worse." 

"Is it?" His eyes bored into hers. "Do you really think it's worse to not have a soul that matches yours perfectly, that can offer you the best love than having one and never being able to touch them?" 

"On the contrary, imagine that love you mention is always out of reach," she whispered, not sure why. "It's never yours, it never gets to be yours. At least like this, I'm not kept from anything. I might be missing out, but I'm free. No boundaries keep me from what I want." 

He looked sad that night. It would take Maki a long time to discover why.

First year ended faster than she could realize. She renewed her petition to remain in the dorm even during breaks, and once again, it was granted. There was nothing to worry about in that regard. She'd have housing for as long as she needed to study.

While she was helping Inumaki pack, someone came knocking, looking for Zen'in Maki. Her stance faltered when she found Mai on the door, brow as twisted as the day she left.

"I'm not going back." 

Her sister rolled her eyes. "Do you believe they want little useless Maki back?" 

If it stinged, she didn't let it show. "Why else would you be here? Having second thoughts about staying?" 

"As if." 

"Then? Don't waste my time, Mai." 

She crossed her arms over her chest and hid her face in her high collar. "Have they kicked you out yet?" 

It took Maki a moment to realize what it meant. Her sister, red to the tip of her ears, bashedly hugging herself, had come to ask about her. She cared.

"Not yet. I'm good for their track team." 

"Huh? What are you smiling for?" 

"Nothing." She really couldn't help the grin that outstretched across her lips. "It's just good to see you." 

A flabbergasted Mai was definitely a sight for the ages. Maki sobbed that night at the thought of her it gets better coming to fruition right in front of her.

After Inumaki and Panda both bid their goodbyes for the time being, she walked Yuuta back to his own room. He invited her inside. She found a surprisingly tall pile of books on the nightstand, but not a single cardboard box lined up against the walls.

"I thought you were leaving," she said as she sat on the bed. "Why haven't you packed yet?" 

He rubbed his thumb and index fingers together. "I'm staying, for now." 

"Why?" 

"It's complicated."

If there was one skill she appreciated having, it was definitely her ability to tell which button was too painful to push. So instead of asking, she turned to the books and picked the first one, a small, old hardcover with a redhead girl on it. A long piece of paper —a makeshift bookmark, she assumed— signaled page one hundred and thirty-eight. The last line was highlighted. 

Kindred spirits are not so scarce as I used to think. It’s splendid to find out there are so many of them in the world.

The mattress dipped down where Yuuta sat down beside her. A lot closer than he usually did. It was a habit of his to leave a good twenty centimeters or so between them, but for some reason, the space that separated their thighs this time was barely a breath. She reread the line a few times, suddenly unwilling to look at him. 

"Anne of Green Gables," he answered to no one's question. "Old favorite of mine. Liked it as a kid, love it now. Says a lot of beautiful things." 

"Is that why you highlighted this?" She traced the thick neon line with her fingers. Kindred spirits.

"Yeah. I love the idea of kindred spirits." 

"Which is?" 

Maki wouldn't call herself an empathic person, but she knew the question would make his eyes light up. And it did.

"Someone who understands you extremely well, to the point of being able to tell what you're thinking with just a glance." He moved his hands a lot when talking about something exciting. It was endearing. "Basically, a person you're so deeply affiliated to that your bond exceeds words." Her chest tightened at the description. "So a soulmate?" 

"Uh," his face fell and he started fiddling his thumbs. It took her a moment to realize he was trying to hide his marks. "No, I don't think so. Kindred spirits are… different. Not the same." 

"Yes, that's what 'different' means." 

"You know what I'm trying to say," he said defensively. "A kindred spirit is a soul aligned with yours. Could be anyone. Doesn't need any indicators to exist. That's the very point. Someone you don't need any signals from the universe to know they're there. You could have several. After all," he grinned, "they aren't so scarce as one might think. There are so many of them in this world."

It was naive, she thought. Naive, but sweet. He really believed it. Whereas many spent their lives looking for the one to make their soul mark come to life, their soulmate, he just looked for souls. Souls that would simply be good to his own. Kindred spirits.

She set the book back on the nightstand and pressed her hands between her knees. "Would it be bold to ask if you consider me a kindred spirit?" 

"No, not at all." 

"So am I?" 

His smile was gentle. "Yeah. Yeah, I think you are."

He put the book in her hands before she left. Maki had never been one for reading, but she found herself opening it on the first page. 

To the memory of my Father and Mother.

She snorted when she pictured herself writing a book and dedicating it to her parents. To her Father, who slapped her across the face when he learnt she had no soul mark and cursed her name. To her Mother, who stood to the side and hid in shame, because a lack of something in her daughter was bigger than everything she already was. 

She skipped to the first chapter.

Mrs. Rachel Lynde lived just where the Avonlea main road dipped down into a little hollow…

The words swayed back and forth, telling the story of a lonesome girl and her kindred spirits. She dozed off with the book on her chest and slept well.

For the start of their second year, Inumaki and Panda returned a few days earlier and took Maki and Yuuta shopping for supplies. Her presence there was more of a chaperone-y nature than anything else. It wasn't like she really needed a lot of things, and it wasn't like she could afford them either. She got more pens, more paper, a new sharpener and winced at the prices. Technically, she could ask Megumi for more money. Gojo, his tutor, had met her a few months back to see who "his hard earned wages were going to" (it was family riches), and he'd liked her well enough, even if the feeling had not been mutual. He had said she could ask for whatever she needed, always, but she still had some pride.

So few school supplies it was.

Panda ventured to find food and left them wandering aimlessly through the mall. Inumaki tugged on her sleeve. 

"Hm?" 

He pointed at a small, bazaar-like store with a shiny bill over the door. Then, without waiting for their consent, he grabbed her with one hand and Yuuta with the other and practically dragged them there.

She rolled her eyes fondly. Yes, Inumaki was the quiet type, but never let it be said he wasn't convincing as hell when he wanted to.

Had he been anyone else, she would have recoiled; touch had never been her thing and she wasn't going to start now. However, Inumaki had had a way to creep through her defenses and make what had once felt hot and suffocating to the point of tears feel soft and warm and welcoming. She liked his hugs, his steady grip on her fingers whenever he was scared or shy and his heavy head on her shoulder during late night study sessions. That was strange enough, but she had long since come to terms with it. It could be worse. She could be addicted to crack. 

At least she wasn't addicted to crack.

Once inside, Inumaki let go of them and each drifted on their own to different sections. Maki's feet took her to the second aisle to the left. The shelves were full of baskets filled to the brim with trinkets, knick-knacks and cheap toys, classified by price. She dipped her hand in the two-hundred yen bin and fished out a funny looking dice. Instead of the typical black dots, it had plastic jewels embedded on the sides, each a different color. She shook it. It had a bell inside. It made her snort. Silly little thing.

In the three-hundred yen basket, there were lots of rubber octopuses the size of a pea. Hundreds of them. The four-hundred yen bin had mismatched earrings. She shook her head at the dumb lightbulb glasses in the five-hundred yen basket. When she moved to the six-hundred yen bin, she accidentally knocked some of its contents to the ground.

She reached to pick them up, but a couple of long fingers got to them first. 

"Let me get that for you." 

The I could have done that died on her tongue at Yuuta's smile. She wasn't at the Zen'in household anymore, she didn't need to be on the fence about everything all the time. Out here, people were nice because they could, didn't want her to crash and burn just because she dared to exist. It was hard to remember that sometimes. 

She extended her hand towards him. "Thanks." 

He dropped them on her open palm and started rummaging through the other baskets. She let the pins scurry through her fingers back in place, and one of them fell again. This time, she caught it before it hit the ground. 

It was a goose. A simple white figure with a black outline holding a butterknife in its beak. It was kind of dumb, but she still fiddled with the lock and smiled a bit. Really, there was no rhyme or reason why she should be so hung up on something so small and so silly, but she was. She liked it, she liked its cute little webbed feet and the way its eyes seemed to scream violence.

"What do you have there?"

Yuuta's voice shook her out of her trance. She held the pin up so he could see it. "Just this. It's funny." 

"It is funny," he agreed. "Are you gonna get it?" 

She looked at the six-hundred yen tag. "No, I don't think so." 

Both their phones rang at the same time. A message from Panda in their group chat, informing them that he had successfully acquired food and was waiting for them at the food court, fourth table to the left. They didn't need the directions anyway; their friend was big enough to spot in any crowd. Inumaki flapped his arms in the air from the entrance, both of them already full of bags. Yuuta waved back.

She put the goose back. "Let's go." 

"Go ahead. I'll be right behind you." 

She raised an eyebrow and shrugged. To each their own. She went to help Inumaki. Sure, the boy was athletic enough, but no human being should ever carry those many bags by themselves, and the sooner they got to the food, the better. She was starving.

Against her better judgment, Maki opened Anne of Green Gables once again that night. Truth be told, she had already finished it a long time ago, but she'd kept it just a little bit longer. Its words were all too sweet and warm and welcoming. If she allowed herself one sliver of honesty, she would say she felt the most at home in between the weak, worn down binding and the black letters on the yellowish pages. 

A knock interrupted her reading. Cursing whoever was on the other side, she stood up and opened it. She took back her curse the moment she saw Yuuta holding his closed fist to his chest. 

"Good evening, Maki." 

"It's almost midnight?" 

"I'm sorry." He stared at his feet, looking almost coy. He had never been bold, but she thought they were well past that initial awkwardness. "I was… debating over whether what I'm about to do is a nice thing to do or just plain creepy."

"Why?" She took a step back. She wasn't scared of Yuuta; never had been, never would be. But his words awakened something almost primitive in her chest, a fear she believed long gone. "What are you about to do?"

He raised both hands in the air, one still tightly closed. "Okay, that came out worse than expected. I didn't mean it like that—"

She unconsciously relaxed.

"—I just meant… Oh well, I'll just show you. Hold out your hand."

"Why?"

"Can you not question everything for a single moment, please?"

She opened her mouth to argue that she did not, in fact, question everything, and he lifted his eyebrows, deeply amused. Huffing, she clamped her mouth shut and did as she was asked.

"Close your eyes." 

"Yuuta—" 

"Please?" 

"Ugh." She complied. 

Something metallic clattered on her hand. "Open them."  

She did. In the middle of her palm, the knife goose pin stared up at her. Her jaw slacked and her eyes flickered over the object and him so fast she could barely see any of them.

"I knew you said you weren't going to get it, but I don't think it's because you didn't want it." He shoved his hands in his pockets, gaze firmly trained on the space between his shoes. "You were looking at it a lot, and I know you liked it, and you didn't get it because you don't believe in buying stuff you don't need or maybe you didn't want to spend too much money. But um," he finally looked up with the smallest beam, "you can't say no to a gift, can you?" 

It was like someone had dunked her head on water and pulled her out in a split second. Her pulse galloped in her ears, shaking her field of view with its speed. She breathed in through her mouth, and the air got stuck in her throat. Yuuta still stood there, the smile on his face slowly and unsurely fading as she failed to react. 

She laughed. No idea why. Laughter just bubbled out of her lips and spilled all over her night clothes and his shirt. It had been a while, she thought, since she last felt the need to laugh like this. Grand gestures of amusement were never necessary, according to her, but in that moment, she felt only the warmth in her chest that told her it was okay.

"Oh God," she covered her mouth with a hand. "Yuuta, oh my God." 

His eyes lit up. "I suppose that means it was nice and definitely not creepy?" 

"No, definitely not creepy." She clutched the pin to her chest. "Definitely nice." 

His smile returned, and she caught herself feeling glad it did.

"You really bought this just because you thought I liked it?" 

"Yeah?" 

"You spent your money on something you didn't need or want just for me?"

"That's how gifts work, yeah."

She clumsily stretched out a hand to… Shit, she wasn't sure what for. He blinked in surprise, and she froze in the air in between them. She didn't think she could take the confirmation that she wasn't his soulmate right as she realized she might be in love with him. 

"Thanks." And it was the most earnest response she could form. 

Delicately, he held his hand directly below hers, his black-stained fingers ghosting around hers, caressing her. His warmth seeped in the void between them like a faint flame that set her afire. 

"You're welcome."

Falling in love had never felt like a right choice for Maki. No soul mark meant no "the one". Of course, she knew there were platonic soulmates, but yeah, she didn't even get that. And falling for someone, anyone, felt like stealing. Infatuation was the cruelest twist fate could grant her: loving someone whose soul belonged to someone else. So she'd always sought to avoid it. And it had never been hard. Life didn't have a knack for surrounding her with people one could fall for. 

Not until Yuuta had come along.

She hated destiny and the universe and the stars and everything that had led her here, to the spot she seemed to be glued to as she shamefully stared at him playing chess with Inumaki on a bench in the garden. He ran his fingers over his lower lip. If it really were ink, he'd smear it all over his chin. She wished it were. Then she could wash it off his hands and hold them and press them to her heart without the reminder that it wasn't meant to be. But it wasn't ink. It was fate's biggest middle finger to her face, its most callous laugh. She wouldn't cry, that would be stupid and weak, but she certainly felt the uncomfortable prickle at the base of her stomach that told her it wasn't supposed to be like this.

"Heyo, Maki." Panda clapped her back, and she immediately stopped wringing her hands together. "The nerds still going at it?" 

"Yeah." She shook her head in a vain attempt to clear it. "Yeah, it's taking them so long." 

"We can hear you!" Yuuta whined from his seat. "You know, the world's best chess matches lasted hours!" 

Inumaki agreed with a vigorous nod and a flip-off. That, accompanied by Panda's heavy arm around her shoulders grounded her briefly. These were still her friends, they still loved her in their own way. It should suffice. It had always been enough, and it would continue to be enough. She didn't need more.

The smile Yuuta reserved only for her made her feel sick.

That night, she called Mai for the first time.

“You’ve got the wrong number,” was her sister’s greeting.

“No, I don’t think I do,” Maki retorted, unable to even feign any annoyance towards her. "How are you, Mai?"

"Um," she stumbled. "Why do you want to know?"

"Can't I just care?"

"A bit too late for that, don't you think?"

If Mai's voice had mended the wounds of her first heartbreak, then her slightly angry, tired reply had torn up all the stitches. Maki crossed her arms, guarding her chest so she couldn't take another lunge at her. 

"Meet me for lunch."

"No."

"I'll see you at our spot in half an hour."

The phone clicked when Mai hung up without answering.

But she was there thirty minutes later at their spot, an old yakitori stand on the side of the road. She had already ordered and sat on the sidewalk with her knees tucked under her chin and a skewer in hand. Maki settled down beside her after placing her own order.

"I've always cared," she said instead of hello.

Mai pulled a piece of chicken from the stick with her hand and shoved it inside her mouth. She had never been the most graceful eater when she was alone. "Didn't seem like it when you left me."

"You know I couldn't stay. Thanks," Maki nodded in direction towards the cook, who handed her her own food. "It was killing me."

"Yeah, because it was so easy for me."

"You could have left with me."

"I can't leave the family."

"Family?" Maki chuckled, spinning the yakitori between her thumb and her index. "That's not a family. It's a jail with walls of blood. You'll die in it, and for what?"

Mai's eyes fell to the ground. Her fingers were covered in grease. "I would have been happy dying with you."

Maki gaped at her sister as she bit her lip so it wouldn't wobble. Just what had she never told her? How much pain had she been carrying? Ever since she left, never once had she stopped to consider what it would have meant to Mai, not only emotionally. What kind of shit had their family been dishing out on her? Had they blamed her? She wouldn't put it above them, the sick bastards. Had she cried? Had she hidden? Had she wished she had said yes?

She reached out and held Mai's hand for the first time since they were five. "I would much rather live with you." 

Her sister said nothing to that, but she didn't pull away either. 

"Would you like that, Mai?" 

A beat. 

"I would." 

"Wait for me, then." Maki squeezed her fingers. "I'll get you out. And before you say anything, don't worry about family. You'll have me and I'll have you. Would that be enough?" 

"It would."

"So will you wait for me?" 

Mai cried a single, silver tear and rested her head on her shoulder. "I will."

Yuuta rolled over in bed to get closer to where she sat on the ground rereading Anne of Green Gables.

"I think I'm falling in love with you."

The book fell on her lap. "What?"

"I think I'm falling in love with you," he repeated with eternal patience. "I didn't want to tell you because you probably didn't feel the same but, uh—"

"No, I heard you." She shook her head. "I just—"

"Can't believe it?" He smiled with just a tinge of sadness. "Is it that hard to believe?"

"Frankly, yes."

"Why?"

"Why would you fall in love with me at all?"

"Why wouldn't I?" He shrugged like it was that easy. "You're smart, strong, very pretty," she flushed at that, "and even though you look cold, you're actually very nice. I thought it was normal friend stuff, but when I told Panda about it, he said it wasn't."

"You talked to Panda about it?'

"Well, I had to tell someone! Wanting to kiss you every time I saw you was getting distracting."

She gaped, unable to form a coherent sentence. It was weird enough being in love herself, but having Yuuta also feel the same and being this bold about it? He might have been red to the tip of the ears, but he was looking at her in the eye and telling her with little to no stutter at all. 

"Can you please say something?" He implored after a long stretch of silence. "I thought you liked me too, but if you don't and I'm out of line, I'll never bring this up again."

"Are you really in love with me?" She wanted to hear it at least once more.

"Yes."

"Get rid of that."

"What?" 

"Don't be in love with me."

"I can't control that, Maki."

"Do something about it. Figure it out."

"Do you not feel the same?" He asked slowly, as if afraid of the answer.

"That's not it." She wrapped her arms around herself. "You just shouldn't be in love with me . I'm not your soulmate."

Judging by the expression on his face, that last word must have pierced an ice-cold sword through his chest as well as hers, but it had to be said, no matter how blunt. She stood her ground as he sat up and examined his marked hands. 

"I had a feeling you'd say that," he mumbled. 

"So you know I'm not your soulmate."

"I do." He met her eye defiantly. "And I don't care."

"What?"

"I don't care, Maki," he insisted, crossing his arms over his chest. "So what if you're not my soulmate? I've never met them. I don't know them or how they are. But I know you and I'm in love with you. I don't care what some stupid fate has to say about that."

"You're an idiot," she affirmed. "You have a soulmate and you're just… Saying screw that? For me? "

"Yeah."

"Definitely an idiot."

"You know, I heard you sprout a lot of bullcrap about soulmates but you never once told me what you felt."

Her cheeks burned. "It doesn't matter what I feel."

"It matters to me."

"Why?"

"Did you miss the part where I said I was in love with you?" He inched closer to the edge of the bed and let his legs hang off it, his heel dangerously close to her shin. "When you say this sort of thing, it's to hopefully get reciprocation. Or rejection," he added quickly, "if luck's not on your side."

She cast her gaze down. "You won't like my answer."

"I'll learn to live with it."

"I am. I'm in love with you too."

"Why wouldn't I like that answer?" She hated his hopeful tone. "That's exactly what I wanted you to say. Like, this is literally the ideal outcome."

"Yuuta," she said softly and he shut up. "It's not fair."

"What do you mean?"

"It's not fair to your soulmate that you're with someone else," she explained. "You're depriving them of their soulmate and for what? For some girl you met in high school?"

He went deadly quiet. She knew he would; he was too kind to act so selfishly.

"And it's not fair to you either," she continued. "To get stuck with that 'some girl'. You have your chance for perfect happiness, I can't let you throw it away for someone like me." She stood up and headed towards the door. "I'm sorry."

She turned the knob, but before the door had opened more than a slit, it was slammed shut again. 

"Yuuta?"

"Don't leave yet," he all but begged, hand holding the door firmly in place, only slightly above her own fingers. "I want to say one more thing."

"I'm listening."

"Can we pretend?" 

"What?"

"Pretend." Oh, how she wished he didn't look at her so intently. "I— pretend soulmates aren't a thing and go out with me. For a little, or for as long as you want to."

"Yuuta…"

"I want to be with you, at least for a while," he stated in the way one stated that the sky was blue. "If you'll have me."

She wanted to reach for him so bad. She wanted to grasp both sides of his face, kiss him senseless and feel his steady grip on her waist and the back of her head because she was certain he'd know exactly what to touch, exactly which places were meant for him. 

But his mark would remain black.

She took a deep breath. "Can you be with someone you can't touch?"

They made a simple deal: from that day on, they were dating, but there would be no contact. Maki didn't think she could handle that sort of heartbreak just yet. That meant no holding hands, no hugging, no kissing. It was unconventional, but Yuuta seemed eager to make it work. 

They found ways around it. He insisted on adding a heart emoji to her caller ID (he would have added more if unsupervised) and she reluctantly agreed to do the same. He would walk closer to her than Panda and Inumaki did, she would bring him coffee when she got her own. They went on dates on their free days and studied together on school ones. 

It wasn't easy. Sometimes she forgot and extended a hand towards him before pulling it back just as fast. It was bothersome whenever it happened; it made him sad, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

But she liked it. She liked the kisses he blew her way when nobody saw him and she liked the crooked origami hearts he left in her pencil case. It was good enough for now.

"You're kidding."

Mai wriggled her fingers. "Yup."

The yakitori stand had become the grounds of peace between the sisters. Technically speaking, they met for dinner on Saturdays, but the chats afterwards always lasted longer than the eating part. Every week there was a new topic of discussion, although more often than not the conversation turned to insulting Naoya, their father and/or their grandfather. It wasn't the same as when they were kids, but Maki would dare to say it was better.

"An idol?" She echoed. "Are you serious?"

"Already told you I was." Mai's soul marks sported new colors, all blood scarlet and sunset oranges. She regarded them with indifference, but she couldn't hide her coyness from her sister's watchful eye. "I went to shake her hand and boom. Hers changed too."

"How did you even get to meet an idol?"

"One of my upperclassmen is a big fan. He asked me to come along to a meet-and-greet. I think he was more excited about this than me."

Maki raised an eyebrow. "A friend of yours?"

"No."

"Aw, he's totally your friend!" 

"Shut up!"

"I think it's sweet," she assured her. "You never tell me about your friends."

Mai shrugged. "I don't have a lot."

There was an awkward pause. 

"So you're soulmates with an idol? Takama-chan?"

"Takada-chan," Mai corrected. "It's weird."

"Did you get her number or something?" She went completely red and Maki couldn't help a cackle. "You did!"

"She gave it to me just in case!" Mai said defensively. 

"You got an idol's number! Who's also your soulmate? What are the odds?"

"This is why I never tell you anything."

"Don't be like that." Maki bumped their shoulders together. "It's great, Mai. I'm happy for you."

Mai didn't say anything, but didn't pull away from her either. "What about you? Any news? If possible, something equally embarrassing?"

"Yes, actually." Her sister eyed her curiously. "I'm seeing someone." 

"What?"

"Yeah."

"Seeing as in dating?"

"Yup."

"Who would be crazy enough to date you?" Mai muttered, but there wasn't any edge to her words. "You're a real piece of work and you snore like a train."

"Thanks a lot, sis. "

"So who is it? EpiPen guy? The bear dude?"

"Inumaki and Panda. Stop pretending you don't know their names. And it's not either of them."

"Then who?"

Maki wringed her hands, readying herself for all the jokes. "Okkotsu Yuuta."

"Eyebag kid?!"

"Why do you have to say it like that?! What's wrong with Yuuta?"

"Nothing, nothing." Mai examined her fingernails like she hadn't written a full roast in her mind already. "Didn't think he was your type. You know—"

"Don't."

"Scrawny, scared and with an iron deficiency."

"He's kind to me," Maki said. "And he's cute."

Mai huffed. "Yeah, if you look at him under UV lights."

"He makes me happy," she admitted. "Is that so bad?"

"Does he…" Mai hesitated. "Does he know?"

"He does. Has for a long time."

"And he's okay with it?"

"He was most insistent," Maki chuckled. "He gave me a whole speech about defying fate and whatnot."

"He really likes you, huh?"

"It would seem so, yes."

"And are you okay with this?"

Maki considered her answer for a moment. "I am. Besides, it's not like I'm going to marry the guy. I'm just dating him."

"I just don't want you to get hurt."

She reached out and interlaced her sister's fingers with hers. "I won't."

She didn't like lying to Mai, but her heart broke a little when Yuuta showed up to their next date with a red ribbon in hand.

"I had a million yen idea," he said as they walked out of the dorms.

"Which is?"

"I'm going to make us soulmates."

"Huh?"

"Remember the red string of fate?" He handed her one tip of the ribbon and gestured for her to tie it around her little finger like he was doing. "It was said to tie soulmates together by the pinkie. It could bend, shorten and enlarge, but it would never break."

"This is not a string, Yuuta."

"Well, no, I figured that wouldn't be very comfortable." He held up his gloved hand, now joined to hers through the ribbon. "See? We're soulmates now."

She chuckled, fighting to stave off the full ache in her chest. "You're so dumb."

"You can't say that while laughing and expect me to believe it."

"Maybe your dumbassery is amusing to me."

"Maki, you're my girlfriend, I know you don't actually think I'm dumb," he retorted. "And this is also like holding hands, you know? Indirect hand holding. C'mon."

And he tugged her along, the ribbon tensing and going slack with the sway of their arms. It was long enough to not let them touch, but not so much so they could walk several feet apart. The warmth emanating from Yuuta's sweater seeped into her personal bubble and she smiled. It was nice. Few things were this nice.

But as they made their way through Tokyo, the dreaded, ever present feeling at the bottom of her stomach reappeared. Couples had always abounded. If there was one thing that the streets never lacked, it was cheesy people in love. She tried not letting it get to her, she really did. Not all relationships were the same, and theirs in particular was in a tough spot. Yet, she couldn't help but long for the fingers and lips and hips she never touched.

She could, if she wanted. She was sure that if she said she'd changed her mind, Yuuta would be more than willing to hold her and kiss her like normal couples did. But, and there always was a but and it was always the same. But his mark wouldn't light up, wouldn't explode into a million colors, because she couldn't do that. She lacked the ability to make others come alive with a mere graze, her soul was alone. She could never get over seeing someone who had nestled so deep in her heart be denied to her like that. As of right now, he was hers and hers only. They didn't need to think about who else was waiting for him. With winter near, he wore gloves and it was easier to forget. But —but! The moment he touched her, they wouldn't be able to ignore it anymore. 

She had imagined it countless times. Dragging her fingers over the dark marks and watching them unleash the rainbow on his skin. What colors would she turn him if she could? She loved silver and green, like a stormy sky over plains of grass. It would be beautiful.

He stopped all of a sudden. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Only then did she notice a tear had snuck out of the corner of her eye. She swabbed at it. "I'm fine."

"You were crying," he insisted. "What happened?"

She couldn't lie to him, could she? "I want to kiss you. Like, a lot."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

He never learned to control his impulses, so he extended a hand towards her face before freezing midair. "I'm sorry."

"Why? You didn't make me this way."

"You're owed an apology by someone. Might as well be me."

"Idiot," she scoffed, pulling on the ribbon to let him know she didn't mean it.

It had been dark outside for several hours when a soft knock jolted Maki out of her reverie. From a certain angle, the moonlight revealed the mark of knuckles on the glass of the window. Standing in the cold beneath it, a red-nosed Yuuta waved at her excitedly.

She opened the window. "What are you doing here? It's you're-insane-if-you're-outside-now o'clock."

"I've been thinking about what you said earlier," he said, ignoring her valid concern completely. "And I figured out a solution. Kinda."

"What do you mean?"

"Close the window again, I'll show you."

She complied, curiosity having already settled in. He got closer to the window and blew on it. On the fogged up section, he wrote kiss me in shaky characters.

"What?"

He repeated the action, this time with more confidence. He smiled over the two kiss me and pushed a hand against the glass. The wool of his gloves was warm; she'd stolen them enough times to know that. She placed her own hand over it, marveling at the difference in size. Were his fingers always this much longer than hers? 

"C'mon," he mouthed. "Just once."

It was silly, but she still leaned in and pressed her lips to the spot where his were. She only felt the cold glass.

Maki met Panda's eye in the rear-view mirror. "Thank you for driving me." 

"No problem," he assured her. "It'll be nice to finally get to meet your evil twin." 

"Mai is not evil."

"You have to admit she sounds a little evil over the phone."

"Oh, shut up." 

He chuckled, spinning the wheel to smoothly turn to the right. Contrary to what his appearance might have made one believe, he was the best driver in their group and the only one with a license. Toge only looked like he would be scared of sharp curves, Yuuta simply refused to sit in the driver's seat and Maki had no car and thus, no way to practice. Luckily, Panda made up for all of them. 

"Only four more blocks," he announced. "Are you excited?"

She huffed. "I don't even know if I'm ready. "

He reached for her tightly curled fist and pried it open. His hand was so much bigger than hers. She tried not to look at his blue mark. 

Pointlessly.

"It'll be fine," he said, squeezing her fingers. "I look like a New Japan brawler. They won't touch you."

With his chubby cheeks and peach fuzz, he did not look even remotely close to a professional wrestler, no matter his size, but the intention was sweet. "You're a pacifist."

"Only in name. I crave violence."

Soon enough, the Zen'in State came into Maki's view for the first time in the past two years. She gulped down the remnants of fear; she didn't have to go in. Not yet. Mai would be waiting at the door. They would pick her up and leave. No one would see them. 

Panda gave her a final encouraging slap on the shoulder before stepping out of the car. She breathed in and out and pulled the door handle.

Mai was sitting on top of her own suitcase, scrolling through her phone with a bored expression and expertly pretending she hadn't seen them park. Maki walked up to her and snatched the device off her hands. 

"Real polite of you." 

"Don't you remember? You're the polite one here." She put on her best impression of their mother. "Oh, Maki, why can't you be more like Mai, huh? She's so well-composed and ladylike—" 

Mai snorted. "You talk too much. Let's go. Hi, bear guy," she added, turning to Panda.

"Hi," he replied, ever so patiently. "Pleasure, Maki 2.0. Want me to put your luggage in the car?" 

Maki elbowed Mai in the ribs and gave her a look. He's only trying to be nice, don't be mean. Her sister sighed, but nodded. "Yes, thank you." 

Before Mai could begin to walk towards the car, Maki enveloped her in a hug. Mai froze on the spot, but she didn't shove her off immediately. She just needed a second, so Maki gave it to her. Slowly, her stance relaxed and she loosely wrapped her arms around her waist, her forehead sinking into Maki's shoulder.

"I'm so glad you're doing this," she muttered, only for Mai to hear. "I knew you'd get around." 

"I'm still not going to your dumb school with your dumb friends," she retorted weakly, but her words didn't hold much bite. "I haven't forgiven you yet. I don't know if I ever will."

"I know." 

"But…" 

"But?" 

"You're getting there." 

Maki gasped inaudibly. She didn't want to come to her old home and cry, but standing here, about to drive away and with her sister in her arms, her it gets better was finally in her grasp, how could she not?

"Alright, open up."

Maki opened her mouth and the chunk of cereal landed right on her tongue. Yuuta cheered, even though it was already the fourth or fifth time she'd caught it.

"I think we're getting the hang of this," he said excitedly. "Your turn." 

A lot of the things they did together were admittedly pretty dumb, but this one took the crown. One day, he had mentioned that couples usually fed each other. Four months of dating had taught her that any passing comment about what other people in relationships did meant he wanted to try too. Maybe it was his attempt at normalcy in their most abnormal lives. 

Now, feeding each other sounded easy on paper, but it was a lot trickier in practice. Forks and spoons were simply too short for them to keep their distance. After some trial and error, they landed on tossing cereal to each other and trying to not let it touch the ground. A lot of cereal and biscuits snapped in half suffered at the hands of the five minute rule.

But he was right, they were getting the hang of it. At a snake's pace, but they were definitely making progress.

She fished a chip out of one of the bags surrounding her (that was how they had a balanced meal ; several different snacks to choose from before tossing) and flicked it towards him. It hit his nose and fell into his collar. If laughing made her a bad person, so be it, she couldn't help it when he squealed and dove into his shirt to retrieve the chip. 

"Stop laughing, Maki!"

She laughed harder.

"You're so mean to me," he whined, munching on his hard earned snack. "I can't believe I like you this much."

"You realize that makes it sound like you enjoy people being mean to you, right?" 

He swallowed and leaned back against the wall. "I only like it if it's you." 

She raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Me?" 

"You guys ," he added as if that was enough to save face.

"Sure. Kinky." 

He turned splotchy red, because for some reason he had yet to learn to blush evenly. "Maki!" 

"Hey, I don't judge." 

"Maki."

"Okay, I'm sorry, I promise I'm done now." 

"Too late. I'm offended you would even suggest—" 

"I said I'm sorry," she insisted, dragging herself closer to him.

"Not good enough." 

"You're so difficult when you want to be," she mumbled.

"What?" 

"Nothing." 

He reached into her space and tugged on the strings of her hoodie, careful not to accidentally brush her collarbone. That was the closest he ever got and his cautious way of saying this sucks, I want to hug you. She rested her head on the wall as well and tapped the floor next to him with a nail. That was her way of replying I know, me too.

"I've been thinking," he said after a while of silence.

"When are you not?" 

"Hair is dead cells, right?" 

She frowned, trying to recall if this had been mentioned in any of their biology classes. "I think so?" 

"So they're not alive?" 

"I suppose?" 

"So technically speaking," he met her eye straight on, "hair isn't really a part of our bodies. Since we're alive and it is dead." 

"Where are you going with this?" 

"What I'm trying to say is I could braid your hair." 

She blinked. "Huh?" 

"It's not a part of you, right?" He sat upright, inching slightly closer to her. "So technically, it wouldn't count as me touching you, right?" 

"I don't know, Yuuta." She shifted, a bit uncomfortable. "I don't think it works like that." 

"We don't know that." 

"Exactly, we don't know ," she emphasized. "And we would never know. We have no way to." 

He slumped again. "Right. Sorry. Forget I asked." 

Maki looked down at his finger, mindlessly twirling the string around itself. He was so close. If she dipped her head just a little, she could press her lips to his thumb. His marked, predestined for someone Not-Her, thumb. It was inevitable, wasn't it? They were doomed to break up sooner or later. She wasn't his soulmate. Did it really make sense to deprive themselves from what little comfort they could find in each other? It would hurt, of that she was dead certain, but maybe it was meant to be like pulling a thorn out. Painful at first, better in the long run. What better way to get herself used to the black tendrils on his fingers remaining the same color than testing out his theory? It would even let her lie to herself for a little longer. 

And it would make Yuuta happy.

"Then again," she began, "hair is dead cells."

He shot up, terrified little stars doodled on his pupils. "Do you mean…?"

"Look, Yuuta, we're gonna have to do this someday, because I sure as hell am not letting you go without having kissed you a least once."

His cheeks reprised their prior role as poppies. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," she assured him. "Just… be careful. For a little longer. Please."

"You won't feel a thing."

"Did you suddenly turn into a nurse?"

"Very funny."

She turned his back to him so he could have better access to her hair and drew her knees to her chest, laying her chin on them. Behind her, she heard some shuffling before his shadow on the wall extended a hand towards her ponytail. She closed her eyes as he pulled the elastic off, letting the strands of hair fall on his fingers, always far away from her neck and back. 

He began to braid slowly but without hesitation, like he wanted the moment to last. The gentle pressure on her scalp made her want to cry. She wasn't supposed to get so emotional over her boyfriend combing through her hair, but— 

Suddenly, he gasped and dropped her hair altogether. Disappointment bubbled up her throat, but any words of complaint died down when she spun to look at him.

Color. 

All gold and copper, dripping down his hands. Every inch of his soul mark. Gold. Copper. No black. Not a single droplet of it. His fingers, a rich river of gold and copper, the water streaming down in thin stripes, like…

"You were right," he mused. "Hair does count as touching."

She bolted towards the bathroom. The mirror over the sink returned the image of a girl with gold and copper locks intertwined in a dark braid.