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Mao wasn’t sure what time it was when he woke up. The room was pitch-black. It must have been late. He lay in bed, sluggishly trying to figure out what had disturbed him. The apartment was dead silent and his bed was empty. He closed his eyes again when he heard something come from the ensuite. Yuzuru must have returned from a job. With a soft sigh, he pulled himself out of bed, stumbling through the dark towards the source of the noise. He knew that Yuzuru was incredibly capable of taking care of herself, but she didn’t need to. Not when he was here.
The door was already cracked open so Mao let himself in. He flicked the light switch and squinted against the sudden brightness. “Yuzuru? Is that you?”
His eyes finally adjusted and he took in the scene in front of him. Yuzuru was clutching the edge of the sink and looking at him with wide, glassy eyes. There was a slash in her cheek and she was covered in blood. Mao’s heart stopped.
“Isara-sama…” she whispered. There was a tremble in her voice.
Mao rushed to her side. “Are you alright? Is all the blood yours?”
Yuzuru flinched away when Mao reached out to her. “D-don’t touch me.”
He froze. “Yuzuru, you’re covered in-”
“I know,” she sobbed and dug her face into her hands, smudging the blood even more. “I know. But you need to step back. The- you’ll get blood on you- on yourself, too. I need to keep you clean. Isara-sama needs to stay clean.”
Mao grabbed her by the wrists. She flinched again but he held on. “I don’t care about making a mess. Just let me take care of you.”
Her whole body was wracked by sobs. It was almost unnerving, seeing his typically composed girlfriend completely break down like this. It was normal for her to be more withdrawn and jumpy after jobs, but it had never been this bad. At least, Mao had never seen it be this bad. Mao gently pulled Yuzuru’s hands away from her face to take a better look at what he was dealing with. The gash in her cheek was still oozing blood. “How did this happen?” he asked softly. They had to be quiet so as not to wake Tori sleeping soundly in his own room.
Yuzuru’s tears cut paths through the drying blood splattered on her face. “He fought back. He hit- he managed t-to land a punch before I killed him.”
“Yuzuru, hold still. Let me-”
Yuzuru grabbed Mao by the shoulders. Her fingers were digging sharply into his flesh. “His hands- when he punched me, he had a- he was wearing a ring. The ring was what cut me,” she choked. Her voice was frantic. “Isara-sama, the ring– it was a wedding ring. I killed a man who wore a wedding ring.”
Mao’s heart sank. “Oh, Yuzuru…”
Yuzuru’s legs gave out beneath her and she fell to her knees, dragging Mao to the ground with her. “On his desk, there was a- a framed photo of his family. He had two babies — neither of them can be older than five. They’re so s-small and their father is laying on the floor of his trashed office with his throat slit. I killed- I destroyed a family, Isara-sama. How many families have I destroyed?”
Her breathing was erratic. She was spiralling. Mao wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. The metallic scent of blood stung his nose. “Hey. Yuzuru. Breathe for me, okay?” Mao said, stroking a hand through her short hair. “I got you.”
She was a mess. Her mouth gaped as if she was trying to speak but all that came out were gasps and sobs. She buried her face in Mao’s shoulder and cried. Mao knew that spending years killing for a living must have been deeply damaging. What he was seeing now probably wasn’t even the full extent of it. He just silently held her closer and stroked her hair. He wasn’t sure how long they sat there together until Yuzuru’s crying subsided into quiet whimpering. Mao scooped her up in his arms and sat her on the edge of the countertop, right next to the sink. He picked up the hand towel and dampened it with warm water. Yuzuru was clever for insisting on dark coloured towels. It made it much easier to hide the blood.
One hand held Yuzuru’s face still while the other dabbed off the dried blood of a stranger. Did she know the name of the man she had killed? And if she did, would she remember it? Her bottom lip was still trembling. Mao tilted her head slightly to get a better look at the cut. It looked deep, but thankfully not deep enough to warrant stitches. He didn’t trust Yuzuru to perform a medical procedure like that on herself when she was in this condition and he didn’t trust himself to perform a medical procedure like that at all. He knew Yuzuru well enough to understand that she wouldn’t want to go to the hospital for this either.
She was still clutching Mao’s arm like a lifeline. A small part of him ached when he pried her off him for a moment. The medicine cabinet needed restocking, but the supplies they had left should be enough for today. An antiseptic wipe, a gauze pad, and medical tape. That should do. He returned to her side.
The cut had stopped bleeding. Yuzuru didn’t flinch when Mao cleaned it with the antiseptic, but he noticed the way she clenched her fists in her lap. Poor thing must have been in more pain than Mao could imagine. He kissed her on the forehead after he finished applying the gauze to her cheek. “Does it still hurt?”
She didn’t respond, only resting her head on his shoulder. Mao kissed her again. “Go to bed, babe. I can finish cleaning up here. Do you want a pain killer?”
She didn’t make any sign that she had heard what he said. “How do I explain this to Bocchama?”
Was she talking about her injury or her job as an assassin that she had diligently hid from Tori for all these years? He sighed. “I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out. Just go to sleep, Yuzuru.”
“Isara-sama?”
“Hm?”
“Why are you doing this?” She had turned her glassy gaze towards him. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying for so long but it still didn’t hide the dark circles beneath them.
“Doing what?”
“Taking care of a murderer.” Yuzuru wasn’t making eye contact. She always made eye contact. “How many children have lost their parents? How many parents have lost their children? Siblings, spouses, cousins, all gone because of me. You know all this but you’re still here.”
Mao bit his lip. He knew this conversation was bound to come up eventually. What was he supposed to tell her? They both knew that what she was doing was wrong. The difference was that Yuzuru was stuck where she was, soaked in blood, while Mao was technically free to leave whenever he wanted. His conscience was clean. “It’s not like I stay here for business or anything like that,” he said. “I’m here for you. I love Yuzuru Fushimi and I want to stay with her until I die. That’s all there is to it.”
“I could be the reason why you die,” she whispered. “I could kill you right now. You'd be dead before you even realise what I’m doing.”
Mao didn’t move from her side. He took her hand, intertwining their fingers and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “You’re worth the risk.”