Mafuyu's eyes, which had been teary but calm, were now a swirling vortex of emotions. Hope, fear, and a flicker of long-forgotten desire battled in their gentle depths. "I..." she began, her voice a low, hesitant whisper. "I... I don't know..." She took a deep, shuddering breath, her entire body trembling.
After a moment, she turned back to him and whispered, surrendering completely, "Okay." She turned, her movements stiff and jerky, and walked towards the spare room. She didn't look back, as if she was afraid that if she did, the fragile illusion might shatter.
"Don't worry, I won't try to do anything you don't want me to, Mafuyu-nee." Makoto followed her into the room.
The spare room was small and simple but surprisingly cozy. The old, dusty boxes had been cleared away, replaced by a small, comfortable futon laid out on the floor. It smelled of fresh linens and the faint floral scent of Mafuyu's perfume.
She didn't turn on the light, just stood in the middle of the room, a silhouette against the pale glow of moonlight through the window.
"How are you lately, Mafuyu-nee? You look concerned." Makoto looked around before sitting on the bed.
Mafuyu didn't directly answer his question. "Tatsuya called me this afternoon," she said, her voice low and hesitant. "While you were busy with Mika."
She took a deep, shuddering breath. "He was crying and said he was sorry. That he couldn't live without me. He said he was going to kill himself."
She turned, and her face was a tragic mess of tears. "And I almost believed him," she sobbed, her voice thick with shame. "I almost went back." She looked at him, her eyes wide and pleading. "What's wrong with me, Makoto? Why am I still so broken?"
"You're not broken, Mafuyu-nee. You're just too kind," he said, pulling her into his lap and patting her head, as if worried she might disappear. "You should treasure yourself more."
Mafuyu collapsed into his lap, boneless and trembling. She buried her face in his chest, her hands clutching his shirt like a lifeline. Her sobs were quiet, almost inaudible, just deep, racking shudders that shook her entire body.
"Kind?" she whispered against his chest. "I'm not kind, I'm just a coward." She pulled back, her face streaked with tears. "I stayed, I stayed for a year while letting him hurt me." She took a shuddering breath, her eyes wide and pleading. "And the worst part is...I think I liked it."
Her confession hung in the air.
"You didn't like it, you just got used to the abuse," he murmured softly. "And I'm not returning you to him, not now, not ever." His voice hardened with jealousy, his hands gripping her tighter.
His words, simple but validating, seemed to break something inside her. A small, choked sound escaped her lips. The last fragile dam of her composure shattered.
"But I did, Makoto," Mafuyu whispered against his chest. "I did like it." She pulled back again, her face now a mess of tear tracks. "I liked being punished, being hurt," she sobbed, her voice heavy with shame and self-loathing. "I liked being controlled."
"He said I was sick. He said I was a twisted bitch who deserved to be hurt." She looked at Makoto, her face a tragic mask shaped by years of abuse. "And I believed him, I let him control and abuse me!"
She sobbed and leaned in, her breath warm against Makoto's cheek. "I don't want to feel that way anymore, Makoto. So please... don't let me go back."
"That's okay, Mafuyu-nee. People can get off from pain," As if trying to lighten the situation, Makoto said with a soft chuckle, groping her ass while his nails bit into her soft cheeks. "I love it when Yuna insults me too, and that's fine."
Mafuyu's entire body went rigid at his touch with a sharp intake of breath. The pain and the small bite of his nails sent a jolt through her system. But it was completely different this time: It didn't come with a sneer or disgust. It came with his validation and acceptance.
"That's different," she whispered, her voice trembling with a newfound hope. "You mean... I'm not broken because of it?" She pulled back just enough to search his face for any sign of judgment or disgust. And she found none.
"He never held me after. He never said it was okay. He just hurt me and left me alone." Her hands, which had been clutching Makoto's shirt, slowly moved to cover his on her ass, not to push them away, but to press them deeper.
"I don't want to go back to him. But I'm scared, I'm scared this is all I know, that I'll always need this." A single tear rolled down her cheek. "Can you show me the difference, Makoto?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Between him and you?"
"I will, and I'll never hurt you if you don't want me to, Mafuyu-nee." Makoto leaned in to peck her lips. "I want to show him that you're not broken. No, I will show him how I make you mine, so he has no hope of getting you back."
He leaned back with a smirk. "Give him a call now, Mafuyu."
Mafuyu's entire world stopped. Makoto's request was so unexpected and so insane that for a moment, she just stared at him, her tear-streaked face blank with incomprehension.
And then the meaning sank in, making a new wave of terror wash over her.
"No," She scrambled back off his lap, her hands shaking so badly she could barely support herself. "I can't, please, don't make me." Her eyes were wide with primal fear. "He'll say things. He'll get in my head. I'll..."
"I will be here. You're not alone, Mafuyu-nee!" Makoto's smirk didn't waver. It was calm, steady, and confident, showing her he was in control. Mafuyu looked from his unyielding face to her own trembling hands.
The choice was clear: the terrifying, familiar past, or the unknown future with the man who had saved her. A long, shuddering breath escaped her lips. Her movements were slow, robotic, as if she were moving through water.
She retrieved her phone from the small purse on the floor. Her thumb hovered over the contact, a picture of a smiling, handsome man that made Makoto's stomach turn. She looked at him one last time, a silent, pleading question in her eyes.
Makoto just nodded.
Mafuyu closed her eyes and pressed the video call button. She put it on speaker, placing the phone on the futon between them. The ringing tone was loud and jarring in the silent room.
And then, with a tired, pathetic voice, still laced with that familiar, possessive venom, Tatsuya's eager face filled the screen. "Mafuyu? Baby? You called. I knew you'd call back. I knew you couldn't live without me."