Chapter Text
A cold chill of dread edges out the sticky August heat as Maki steps through the doorway of the overcrowded house. Its crooked shutters and sun-faded vinyl siding are far from inviting, and the scene inside does little to quell her overwhelming desire to escape. Anticipation thrums through the sweaty air like an electric current, and Maki swears several heads turn when she makes her way inside. She’s used to getting all sorts of looks, but these feel different. The people here aren’t gawking at her burn scars so much as they seem to be whispering about her arrival with barely-contained excitement.
Her sister must sense her flightiness, because she tightens her grip around her bicep. Of all the ways Maki would like to be spending her Saturday night, attending a frat party falls just about dead last. Unfortunately for her, Mai had played the Sister Card, and there’s no way out of that. Cashing in an overdue favor at the last minute is textbook behavior for her twin, but the way she’d gone about inviting her to this party had been nice. Too nice.
“It's different from the other parties I’ve brought you to,” Mai had promised after waking her mid-nap to spring the plans on her. “This is a special event the guys are doing with my sorority, and it's invitation-only. I want you to be my plus-one.” She’d seemed so trustworthy at the time, pulling back the layers of Maki’s comforter cocoon to give her a smile that lacked its usual edge. The mischievous glint she has in her eyes now tells a completely different story.
A group of Mai’s sorority sisters teeter past the two of them, giggling as they drunkenly adjust the straps on their skimpy dresses. They have to sidestep the chips littering the grimy wooden floor like pockmarks to avoid snapping their heels. Some of them are familiar. There’s that one girl with the asymmetrical bangs, and there’s also the one who insists everyone call her “Angel” when she’s drunk. Maki spots a handful of fraternity brothers huddled around an ongoing Fortnite match in the back, but the house is otherwise suspiciously devoid of its own members.
Even stranger yet, the fraternity brothers she does see are wearing white button-ups over their shorts, and a few of them even have a carnation peeking out of their breast pocket. While the sorority girls are sparsely clothed as always, their dresses are all similar shades of pink. She looks down at her black tank top, jean shorts and Pumas. Her twin has a similar outfit on, but she doesn’t look pressed about it. Maki tightens her lips and gestures between the two of them.
“Is there some kind of dress code we were supposed to know about?”
“Did you really think I would wear something like this?” Mai pulls at the waistband of her shorts in disdain.
“I don’t know!” Maki looks past her shoulder to try and gauge her chances at making a run for the door. Another wave of people rolls in, bringing them down to zero. “You said this party was different.”
“It is different,” Mai links their arms together. “That’s why we’re going to change.”
“‘We?’”
“We,” Mai confirms with a resolute nod of her head.
That must be some kind of signal, because another one of her sorority sisters bounds down the stairs with an armful of clothing. Maki is nothing short of surprised when she spots the twin pigtails peeking out from behind the pile. While she’s thankful Mai has this Momo girl to keep her off her back, that doesn’t mean she particularly likes her. The antagonistic tendencies she shares with her sister never mean anything good for her, and this is case in point.
“You guys can change in the bathroom up here,” Momo’s voice comes out slightly muffled.
“See, how convenient!” Mai tugs her towards the stairs. “We need to get changed so we can join the party.”
“No way,” Maki digs her heels in. Everything is adding up to confirm the suspicion she’s felt all along—this is a trap.
“Yes way. Must I mention my AirPods? C’mon, Maki. You owe me.”
Two-week-old memories of backing over her sister’s AirPods with their shared car come to mind. She grimaces. It’s not like it was intentional, though she does owe her. If dressing up and attending this stupid party is what Mai wants instead of monetary compensation, then fine. She’ll do it, but she isn’t going to be happy about it.
The bathroom where they’re changing is in better shape than most other frats. Mai assesses it using a point scale: +3 for the shower having more than one bottle of shampoo, but -0.5 for one of them being Irish Spring 5-in-1. Having both toilet paper and hand towels earns the fraternity another six points, yet they lose half of that due to excessive hair on the sink and the toilet seat being left up. Once she’s passed her judgement, she hands a bundle of clothing off to Maki and begins to shed her own.
Maki frowns. There’s a distinct difference in color between their two outfits. Mai’s sleeveless romper is the same blushing pink as that of her sorority sisters, but the mini satin slip dress she’d been given is a creamy shade of white. Not only that—the V-neckline is fringed with lace that extends all the way up to the cropped sleeves. She holds it out in front of her like it’s going to bite.
“Shouldn’t I be wearing pink?”
“Only the sorority sisters are wearing pink,” Mai says breezily. She struggles with the zipper on the back of her romper, and Maki wordlessly steps in to help.
“So all of the invited guests have to wear a different color?”
“Something like that,” Mai turns around to face her once she’s all zipped in. “Now let’s see you in that dress!”
After some finessing, Maki squeezes into the dress and examines herself in the mirror. The lace flowers draped across her collarbone highlight the gentle lines of her silhouette. Paired with the dim lighting and the way her overgrown bangs hide the sharp glint in her eye, she looks…soft. Mai ties the ribbons on the back into bows.
“So pretty,” she coos when their eyes meet in the reflection. In spite of her teasing, there’s a seed of truth sowed in her words.
“Whatever,” Maki smoothes the dress down over her legs. It barely reaches mid-thigh. “I’m not going to wear heels, though.”
“That’s fine,” Mai tightens the straps on the wedges she’d changed into. “Your sneakers are white, so it works.”
She rustles around in her tiny clutch and procures a silver barrette embellished with a sequined star. Tucking a piece of Maki’s hair behind her ear, Mai clips it back and gives her a satisfied once-over.
“Let’s go down and join the party now.”
Maki can’t stop self-consciously pulling her dress down as Mai leads her back to the first floor. But her fear of accidentally flashing someone might be for naught. For a house that was just full of people, it’s unsettingly quiet now. The shitty trap music responsible for shaking the living room walls ten minutes prior has since been replaced by a much different kind of sound. It’s faint, coming from beyond the open door leading out to the backyard. When the chorus hits, she raises a brow.
Last she’d checked, frat boys don’t party to “Just the Way You Are.”
“Hey, did everyone-”
“Do you want a shot before we go outside?” Mai steers her into the kitchen to cut off her line of questioning. There are at least fifteen bottles of hard liquor on the island, along with shot glasses and a stack of red Solo cups that’ve spilled over onto the floor. She kicks a cup aside and pours two shots of Bacardi.
“Absolutely not, I don’t trust any of this,” Maki fidgets with the bow that sits in the center of her breastbone.
“Suit yourself,” her sister tips both shots back and wipes her mouth with a little shiver.
That seems to be enough. Mai tries to give Maki one last touch-up, and she shoves her prying hands away. The cool summer night wraps itself around her, condensation lightly settling onto her skin. It’s a sprawling backyard littered with various holes, dead patches of grass, and the occasional empty Zyn container. However, there seems to have been some kind of effort made to decorate for tonight’s party.
Someone had gone out of their way to string multicolored Christmas lights across the lattice fence separating the property from its neighbor. Hiding some of the battered grass is a long burlap aisle runner that stretches from just a few feet in front of the patio to the backmost corner of the yard where the entire party had congregated. Most people are sitting within rows of folding chairs, and there’s a small group that remains standing. Before she can get a good look at them, Maki’s field of vision suddenly disappears. Her hands fly up to her face, but Mai’s soft ones are already waiting to swat them away.
“Ah, ah,” she tuts. “This is part of the party, don’t ruin the surprise.”
“I’m seriously going to kill you,” Maki hisses under her breath as she’s led off the patio and down onto the burlap.
Laughter and chatter grow closer with each step. Someone, maybe Mai, fastens something to her hair, and she flinches when fabric tickles her cheek. She’d ask what the hell it is, but then another object is thrust into her hands. Maki nearly drops it before realizing that it’s a bouquet of flowers. The stems are cold and slimy in her tightly-clenched fist.
Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance with Somebody (Who Loves Me)” pauses, and a keyboard rendition of Canon in D sounds over the Bluetooth speaker. Mai lets go of her shoulders and steps away, leaving Maki to stand blind and uncertain in front of what she’s pretty sure is a sizable crowd. A couple of voices stand out. She hears Kugisaki yell something at Toge, who must be on playlist duties tonight.
“Wait until he’s ready to start playing that!” Her voice is shrill. The music stops.
“He?” Maki thinks. Is someone else there? She waves her bouquet out in front of her face only to be met with empty air and laughter from the sorority sisters.
“Okay, now you can hit play!”
The song resumes, and Mai instructs her to take ten steps forward. She tries to turn around and walk back in the direction of the house, but she’s caught by her sister.
“Ten steps,” she reiterates with a push. “You’re not going to run into anything, don’t worry!”
“Yeah, because that’s what I’m worried about!” Maki snaps back. It's doubtful Mai can hear her over the excited screams that’ve just erupted.
If she had to guess, “he” is finally ready. Who “he” is and what he’s supposedly ready for she doesn’t know. She’s about to find out. She treads forward with ten cautious steps and halts. Someone directly to her left whose presence she’d been entirely unaware of up until this point yells out to the crowd.
“We’re gathered here today not only to witness a beautiful matrimony, but to celebrate this symbolic union between the beautiful ladies of Delta Zeta and the dashing gentlemen of Sigma Chi,” Panda bellows.
A couple of things are wrong with what he just said. The biggest red flag for Maki is the word “matrimony.” There’s likely some sort of reveal they’re building up to before instructing her to remove her blindfold, but screw that. She’s been a good sport about this entire fucking thing, and this does it. Ripping the cloth from her face, Maki blinks a couple of times to try and adjust to her surroundings.
Six guys she can only assume are fraternity brothers stand slightly to her right, and to her left are an equal number of sorority sisters. Mai is seated amongst the first row of folding chairs. She holds her phone out with a shit-eating grin.
“Smile for the camera, Maki! I want to capture the look on your face when you lay eyes on your dearly beloved.”
Then there’s that. Directly before her stands none other than her fellow taekwondo club-mate, Itadori Yuji. The very same Itadori Yuji who also happens to be the Sigma Chi fraternity president. He doesn’t appear to be following the situation as it unfolds, because his blindfold is still fastened over his eyes. She sets her mouth into a hard line.
“Take your fucking blindfold off, Itadori,” Maki barks.
Despite the fact that half of his face is obscured, she can tell that he’s just as surprised about all of this as she is.
“Maki-san?” He rubs his eyes with his palms. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m asking myself that same thing,” she discards the bouquet at her feet and takes a step forward, mashing the petals into the ground. The large, deep blue cloud that had previously been concealing the moon drifts aside with a fluttering breeze. White lace frames her head like a glowing halo as Maki approaches Itadori and stands so close they’re nearly nose-to-nose. He’s about an inch taller than her, but he cowers beneath her furious stare. “You sure you weren’t in on this?”
“Absolutely!” He pinches his eyes closed as if praying to a higher power to save him. “The bride was always going to be a surprise, but it was meant to be a Delta Zeta sister! I have no idea why it’s you.”
Maki ignores the throbbing vein in her temple and gives him some room to breathe. Itadori clearly isn’t to blame here, unlike some people. As much as she wants to blow up right now, giving Mai any more of a reaction than she already has will only humiliate her further.
“Are non-Greek Life people even supposed to be here?” Maki asks Itadori through gritted teeth.
“Oh yeah, anyone can come as long as they’re invited. Not everyone here is in a frat or a sorority,” Itadori shrugs.
“‘M not a frat boy!” Another voice slurs, drawing Maki’s attention to the guy standing just behind Itadori.
She’d been too overcome with rage to notice him before. He sways on his feet, long limbs drooping like those of a weeping willow. Dark umber hair is an ink stain against his fair complexion, and a fierce alcohol-induced flush stains his cheeks. His ill-fitting glasses look moments away from slipping off his face. In short, the guy is a mess.
“That makes me feel so much better,” she dismisses him with a roll of her eyes. Entertaining a drunk stranger who may or may not be a frat boy is so not on her agenda. She’s going to change back into her clothes, possibly snatch a bottle of liquor or two, then get the fuck out of this party. Mai can find her own way back home for all she cares.
Yanking her veil off, Maki marches back down the aisle towards the house. The energy at the party is abuzz, her exit prompting a slew of reactions. Most people are too trashed to truly care, but several of them are still committed to the frat wedding bit.
“Runaway bride!!!” Panda, the unofficial officiant, exclaims. “Yuji, it’s over for you, my guy. You’ve been r-r-rejected!”
Toge fires several air horn blast sound effects over the speaker, and that’s the last thing Maki hears before closing the door behind her and scrambling up the stairs. She makes it to the bathroom and locks the door behind her. Neither her nor Mai’s discarded clothes are anywhere to be found.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Maki huffs as she tears open drawers and throws their contents across the floor. “Mai, you motherfucker!”
Hiding Maki’s clothes was undoubtedly part of a contingency plan concocted for this exact scenario. One of the downsides to having a twin is that Mai knows her so well, she often knows what Maki wants before she realizes it for herself. It’s a little scary.
Accepting that she’s not going to find her clothes, she unlocks the bathroom door and cracks it open. Maki can hear people talking downstairs, though it doesn’t sound like anyone’s followed her to the second floor. She might as well hide up here for a little bit. Ideally she’d like to just walk right out and leave without talking to anyone, but that’s wishful thinking. She’ll take a brief recharge over nothing.
There are probably a dozen bedrooms on this floor, and a dozen more on the floor above. Maki creeps down the hallway, stepping lightly in case there’s an occupied room. Thankfully, most people are still in the backyard. A room at the end of the hall catches her eye. It’s larger than the others, and its French doors open to reveal an attached balcony overlooking the party below.
Maki looks behind her one last time before slipping inside. She ignores the dirty clothes and clutter strewn about in favor of heading straight to the balcony. The sheer navy curtains move with the wind, and she uses them to shield her from being seen. Mai is still outside, now hovering on the outskirts of the impromptu dance floor with Momo. She doesn’t even look bothered, that bitch.
Itadori is dancing only a couple of feet away from her. Maki feels slightly bad that he’d been roped into her sister’s scheme as collateral. He really is a nice guy, and she can’t see him conspiring against her. He’d just been trying to participate in his stupid frat wedding. But when she looks a little harder, any ounce of pity she’d had flies out the window.
He’s a far cry from a groom who’d just been left at the altar. Quite the opposite—a tipsy smile is splayed across his face as he grinds one of his frat brothers’ hips against his own. The worst part? It’s not just any frat brother, it’s hers and Mai’s cousin. Their nephew, actually, if they’re being technical. God, she really wishes she’d taken that shot earlier.
Excited squeals ring out when the song changes to some pop monstrosity that’s been dominating the radio. Pink and white splash across the lawn as the sorority girls grab their dates and drag them out to dance. A particular interaction sticks out to her amidst the sea of people. The drunk guy from earlier—the one who allegedly isn’t in a frat—is sandwiched between two girls, both of them grinding their asses back against him. Maki’s eyebrows fly to her hairline.
He remains rooted in place, looking rigid in spite of the dazed smile he wears. His glasses now sit at the very tip of his nose, barely hanging on by a thread. One of the girls turns around to sloppily whisper something in his ear, and Maki watches as the glasses fall to the ground and promptly get trampled by the other girl who’s grinding against him.
That little glimpse of karmic justice should be exactly what she needs right now. For some reason, the satisfaction is tinged with a sour taste. It’s mostly because she’s in a shitty mood, but part of her must have believed him when he said he wasn’t a frat boy. Something about his drunken proclamation really did make it seem like he was being sincere. Regardless of whether he’s actually in a fraternity or not, he’s clearly no different from the brothers. Maki scoffs.
“Serves you right,” she mutters under her breath.
After one last look, she pulls the curtains closed. She’d lost track of Mai, so maybe that means she’s back inside and can be convinced to go home. The burning anger in her chest has fizzled out, leaving an odd, restless feeling behind. Maki knows that the sensation clawing at her insides like a caged animal has a name, but she doesn’t want to speak it aloud. She just wants to go home.
Her sister isn’t anywhere to be found. Maki looks everywhere, even interrupting the smoke circle in the basement to see whether Mai is down there. Room after room, she doesn’t find her. She might be avoiding her in fear of retribution. At this rate, she might as well pour herself a drink and wait until Mai reappears.
She takes two shots, then makes a hearty concoction that’s 70% alcohol and 30% mixer. The cup is filled to the very brim, and she has to take careful sips to keep it from sloshing over. It tastes absolutely foul, so it’ll definitely get her fucked up. Pulling the bodice of her dress up to cover more of her cleavage, Maki rounds the corner to exit the kitchen. She makes it a grand total of three steps before colliding into what feels more like a brick wall than another person.
The flimsy plastic cup crumbles, causing her drink to splash between the two of them. The other person holds their hands out to brace against the impact, except their center of gravity is completely off. Instead of grabbing her shoulders, they grab two firm handfuls of her breasts. Maki doesn’t think; she swings. A loud crack resounds throughout the hallway as her wet palm collides with their face.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” She stares daggers into two deep pools of gray.
Not-frat-boy’s eyes practically bug out of his head, which is kind of funny considering how big they already are. Maki doesn’t laugh. His hair is disheveled, like someone had run their hands through it. She has two pretty good guesses about who could have been responsible. It wouldn’t be justified this time, yet she really wants to slap him again.
His expression then transforms—eyes narrowing into slits as he brings a hand up to stinging flesh. Maki can see the faintest red outline of her hand blooming across his ruddy skin. He swipes his tongue over his teeth. She adopts a wide-legged stance and places her hands on her hips. The front of her white—well, she should say previously white—dress is still dripping, but she conjures up her best look of intimidation.
“Cat got your tongue? You’re not going anywhere until you apologize, at the very least.”
Without warning, he drops to his knees and plants his forehead against the ground. “I’m very sorry!”
Her mouth falls open. This is not the apology she had in mind, but she doesn’t hate it. She nudges his shoulder with the toe of her sneaker.
“Hey, get up. It’s really gross down there.”
Almost robotically, he shoots up to his feet and stands at attention. Well, he tries to, at least. He’s unsteady, and the smell of booze rolls off his breath. He has to lean against the wall to find his footing.
“I’m up,” he says dejectedly. His bottom lip is pulled into an exaggerated pout. “‘M really sorry. I didn’t mean to grab you like that. I told you ‘m not a frat boy, and you probably don’t believe me.”
“Well you were certainly dancing like a frat boy, so yeah, I find it a little hard to believe,” Maki says.
“Wha-?”
His white button-up had been open when they slammed into each other, and the thin white undershirt beneath is nearly see-through. It clings to the hard lines of his torso. Not that he even would notice in his current state, but Maki has to make a concentrated effort to keep her eyes on his face.
“Even though you’re drunk, I don’t think you’re stupid,” she backs him against the wall. “I’m talking about you slutting it up on the dance floor with those girls. That’s a very frat boy thing to do, Mr. ‘I’m Not In a Frat.’” He exhales shakily. Maki isn’t done yet.
“And now here you are grabbing my tits like you own them! You’re lucky I only slapped you, because I could have knocked your fucking teeth out if I wanted to.”
His knees buckle, and he starts slowly sinking down the wall.
“Oh no you don't," Maki grabs him by the armpits and lifts him back up. His button-up hangs loosely off of one shoulder. “You need to give me a better apology, and you also need to tell me the truth.”
“Sorry! I’m sorry! I’m not a frat boy, I’m Okkotsu. Okktosu Yuta. I actually really really don’t wanna be here, shhh,” he brings a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell my friend that. I wanted to organize my calendar before classes start, but he asked me to be his best man so of course I had to come! These frat parties can be really scary though, so I had to have a lot of, uh, liquid courage.”
“So you’re Itadori’s friend, not-frat-boy Okkotsu Yuta,” Maki muses. “Tell me, how much is ‘a lot’ of liquid courage? You’re pretty wasted.”
“Shots!” He brightens. “They gave me shots! Two of ‘em.”
“Two?” Maki asks in disbelief. “Is that all you’ve had to drink tonight?”
“Yeah,” Okkotsu murmurs, and his limbs relax. He starts sliding back down the wall, and she lets it happen this time. He winds up slumped in a somewhat seated position. “I don’t usually drink, but I’m tryin’ m’best! Yuji said I just have to ‘go with the flow and fit in.’”
She crouches down next to him. “You’re kind of pathetic, huh?”
He raises his gaze, and for a moment, she almost thinks that he’d miraculously sobered up. He searches Maki’s face with a long, serious expression that lasts for about a minute. Then he pales.
“Oh no,” Okkotsu mutters.
“Sorry for the reality check, but it’s kind of true,” she awkwardly pats him on the head. His hair is insanely soft.
“No,” he chokes out. “It’s my stomach.”
“Do not puke on me, oh my god,” Maki flattens herself against the opposite wall to try and put as much distance between them as possible.
“I don’t want to!” He groans, holding his head between his hands. Then he looks up as if he’s just been struck with an idea.
“Hey, what’s your name?”
“Now you’re asking me that?”
“Please,” Okkotsu grabs his stomach and winces.
“It’s Maki,” she glances at him sideways. “You better not puke.”
“Maki, I need you to slap me again,” he says gravely.
“I’m sorry?”
“I need you to slap me, or punch me, or whatever! It doesn't matter. Just hit me again so I don’t throw up!”
“How is me slapping you going to stop you from throwing up??” Maki interjects
“Just do it,” he covers his mouth with his hand, “and do it quickly. Please!”
Well, she’d been looking for the green light to knock some more sense into him. If this prevents him from spilling his guts, then so be it.
She crawls forward, rears her arm back, and slaps him across the opposite cheek. The position is a little awkward since they’re both on the ground, but it’s forceful enough to audibly knock the breath out of him. Maki retreats, carefully watching Okkotsu. He pounds his fist against his chest a couple of times and coughs. Then he smacks his lips together, licks the inside of his cheek, and smiles.
He fucking smiles. What the hell?
“All better! Thanks, Maki,” he beams.
“What the hell?” She repeats aloud.
“That’s the best thing I’ve felt all night. I don’t like how fuzzy ‘n sleepy the alcohol makes me. Can’t focus,” he closes his eyes and leans his head back against the wall.
“Are you saying that you just needed someone to slap you?” Maki asks. Okkotsu mumbles something, but he doesn’t stir.
She takes advantage of the moment to study the odd man before her. His face is relaxed—the furrow between his dark brows now smooth and the corners of his mouth drooping the tiniest bit. It makes him look a couple of years younger than he actually is, and she wonders what he would have looked like as a little kid.
How cute, she thinks to herself.
Maki buries her face in her hands. Woah. What was that? The shots must be starting to take effect. She looks up, and Okkotsu is staring right at her.
“No,” he answers. “I just needed you!”
Her cheeks are suddenly alight. Instead of acknowledging that, she rises to her feet. After he makes no attempt to get up, Maki extends a hand.
“Come on, let’s not sit here all night. You should go home, or at least take it easy if you’re going to insist on staying.”
Okkotsu lets Maki do all the work pulling him to his feet. With a grunt, she gets him vertical again. It doesn’t do much good. He’s got the coordination skills of a fawn, wobbling on jelly-like joints. She huffs.
“Okay, well you can’t walk, so I’m making the executive decision that you’re going home,” Maki grabs hold of his waist. “Put your arm around my shoulders and try to walk with me. We’ll find Itadori and get everything sorted out.”
“Nnnnnn,” he drones. It’s not in protest, though. Okkotsu does as he’s told.
When he squeezes her shoulder and brings her body closer to his, Maki truly takes in their height difference. Her head rests just below his collarbone, and she has to crane her neck if she wants to fully see his face from this angle. His features are delicate, but there are certain qualities that offset that softness. Like how ever since he’d lost his glasses, Okkotstu keeps alternating between moon-eyed gazing and an intensely-concentrated glare. Maki notices how he scrunches his nose whenever he squints.
The two of them slowly make their way back outside. She doesn’t dare take them beyond the patio, because she frankly isn’t sure he can handle the two steps down onto the grass. Itadori isn’t hard to find, because he’s still dancing. Fushiguro watches from the sidelines this time, thank god.
“Hey, Pinky,” Maki hollers. Itadori’s head turns in their direction. Okkotsu giggles and suddenly lurches to the left. She digs her nails into his side as she readjusts them, ignoring his pitiful yelp. “A little help here?”
“Oh shit, you found my boy!” Their friend trots over smelling like a sickly sweet mixture of fruity alcohol and sweat.
She levels him with a look: I don’t have time for this.
Itadori catches sight of the matching stains on their clothing and weakly laughs. “Ooof, double-fatality. Are you going to take him home then?”
“Me?” Maki has to pinch Okkotsu to keep him from trying to lay down. “I’m bringing him to you because he said you’re his friend, and it sounds like you’re responsible for getting him trashed! You can have fun making sure he gets home safely.”
Itadori cocks his head. “But I don’t know where Yuta lives.”
“What.”
“Yeah man, I have no idea where he lives.”
“Didn’t you ask him to be the ‘best man’ at this stupid fucking wedding? Aren’t you two close?” She’s losing patience by the second.
“We are close!” Itadori says defensively. “Yuta and I met at the campus rec center last month when he corrected one of my sets, and we’ve been friends ever since! This guy’s great, of course I’d ask him to be my best man,” he says this like it’s a no-brainer and leans in to give him a fist bump.
Maki pulls back, denying Okkotsu the opportunity. “This is ridiculous. I want to go home, and I want him to get home without any major catastrophe. Will you take responsibility for your friend here?”
At the suggestion of parting ways, Okkotsu clutches her other shoulder and wraps her in a tight embrace. He tucks his chin into her neck and nuzzles deeper like he’s trying to hide in plain sight. His hair tickles her nostrils, but Maki’s hands remain frozen in place. She keeps the one on his waist there for support; the other one is trapped beneath his arms. Itadori meets her eyes in shock.
“It….kinda doesn’t seem like he wants that?” He tries.
“I don’t care what he wants!” Maki tries to pry him off. He doesn’t budge. She tugs a piece of his hair to make him look at her. “I don’t care what you want, you hear that? You’re going to go home, and Itadori is going to take you.”
Okkotsu still doesn’t look, though he loosens his grip ever so slightly. She draws in a long breath. When her chest expands, it presses against his. His rabbit heart knocks against his ribs.
“Are we good?” She asks.
One minute he’s there, and the next, he’s gone. In the blink of an eye, Okkotsu had released his grip and bolted. He’s halfway across the yard and making steady progress towards the gate by the time she can process what happened.
“God damnit, he’s a runner!” Maki curses, yet she gives chase without hesitation. She has to stop Itadori from trying to follow along. “You should just give up and go back to enjoying your little party. I’m going to make sure your friend doesn’t kill himself. If you see my sister, tell her I said she sucks and she can find a ride back by herself!"
While the delay had given Okkotsu a head start, he hadn’t gotten very far. He’d barely made it to the front lawn before passing out. He lies on his back, arms sprawled up over his head. Maki can see his chest rising and falling as he pants from exertion. She peers over him, blocking his view of the sky.
“You done running?”
He blows out his cheeks. “‘M tired.”
“If I agree to take you home, will you tell me where you live?”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Maki sighs. “C’mon, you shouldn’t be laying down like that. Drunk people shouldn’t do that.”
She’s beginning to lose count of how many times she’s lifted him off the ground tonight. Okkotsu goes easily now that he’s gotten what he wants. Rather than propping him up like she did before, Maki opts for the less dignifying route. She warns him that she’s going to hoist him onto her back, and he needs to hook his legs around her hips unless he wants to fall.
“You gotta tell me which direction your place is in so we can start heading that way. I’ll order a Lyft while we walk,” Maki strains beneath his tight hold.
“That way!” Okkotsu points down towards the end of the block. He kicks his feet out in excitement, like this is some kind of adventure. It certainly will be when he sobers up and tries to piece his night together, she thinks.
“Alright, don’t have too much fun with this. I could drop you on your ass at any given moment,” Maki says.
In what is perhaps the only stroke of luck she’s had all night, they only have to walk two streets over before finding a car to pick them up. Okkotsu’s address isn’t too far from her and Mai’s apartment, so she rides with him. She was going to leave after they dropped him off, but when he nearly face-plants over the curb, Maki knows he’s going to need help getting inside. Grumbling something about the cancellation fee she’ll have to pay for her end of the ride, she guides him into the building.
They take the elevator to the fourth floor, and she digs around in his pockets to find the key to his own damn apartment. Okkotsu helps by leaning his entire body weight into her while she fumbles with the top lock. It’s dark as hell when they finally get inside, and she smacks around the wall until she finds a light switch. Even for a basic studio apartment, it’s minimally furnished. There’s a couch, a TV, and a kitchen table with one chair in the main living space.
“Are you the kind of guy who doesn’t have a bed frame?” Maki drags him towards his bedroom. Then she stops. “Wait, don’t even tell me. I’ve gotten you far enough. I think I’ll go home now.”
He tugs on her wrist. “But you’re already this far. Can’t you wait until I get into bed?”
“Seriously?”
Okkotsu has a pleading expression.
“What, are you scared of monsters?”
“...Please?”
Maki smacks her palm against her forehead. “Oh my god. Fine. Go get in bed. I’ll watch.”
She stands in the doorway while he ungracefully climbs into bed and slips beneath the blankets. Even in the darkness, she can see that he at least has a bed frame. Once all the rustling stops, the room falls quiet. Just when she thinks that he might have fallen asleep, a low whisper comes from his direction.
“Maki?”
“There is no way you are getting any more requests,” she admonishes him.
“No, I don’t need anything else,” Okkotsu says. “I just wanted to say thanks.”
Her back is turned to him, but she pauses in the doorway. “....just be careful, okay? Don’t drink so much. Not everyone is going to be as nice to you as I was.”
That hardly feels like the right word, and yet he readily agrees. “You’re really nice. I hope I can show you how nice I am next time.”
“‘Next time?’”
“You’ll see. I’m not a frat boy, ‘kay?” She can hear him turning over in bed to try and get comfortable.
“Yeah, okay,” Maki laughs. “I got that loud and clear, but you can still show me next time.”
“Issa promise!” Okkotsu yawns, and then he’s overtaken with soft snores.
She locks the door from the inside when she leaves. After it clicks shut, she takes a moment to rest her back against the cool metal. Maki hadn’t realized it before, but she’s a little out of breath. The rhythm of her heartbeat feels familiar.
“I am so fucked,” she groans.