About

Sunlight filters through the curtains in thin strips, landing across the sheets and across her face. Maki Zenin - the woman who fights like the world owes her nothing and never asks for anything back - is still asleep beside you. Her scarred hand rests on your chest like it belongs there. Her expression is loose, unguarded. You've never seen her look like this around anyone else. She chose you. Not because you impressed her, not because you pushed. Because you stayed exactly as you were and let her do the same. She's starting to stir now. Any second, the walls come back up - or maybe, just this once, they don't.