firestarter | NobaMaki

3. power and agency

𝖕𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖗 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖞

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The recovery wasn't going exactly like Maki anticipated. They thought it would be faster, or that they'd no longer want the pain meds once they had run out, but neither of those things turned out to be true. The only thing that was exactly the way Maki thought it would be was the fact that they hated being here. Which was a given.

Maki had been upset with Mai bringing them here for a reason. Realistically, they knew this was the most convenient option, (the only option really) it was where Mai lived, and Mai was helping them during this recovery. Just because they knew that, it didn't mean they had to like it.

Maki was only here on Earth because their mother was always told to be a mother, and the woman hated every second of it. Especially when her children turned out to be nothing like her. Something about Maki's outright refusal to fit into that carefully curated mold just made her resentment grow. Mai wasn't nearly as vindictive of the prospect, but she surely wasn't letting herself be led easily. Mai would let people think she was what they wanted when really she was always her own person.

To her, what was the point or value if her daughters didn't end up exactly the way she wanted them to be? This wasn't the sort of place that welcomed them. Maki had no idea what comfort Mai gained from staying here.

Both Maki and their sister were disregarded as pests as children, regarded with disdain and contempt as teenagers. Then judged even more and ridiculed as adults, it never got easier, it never got better. As far as Maki saw it, they'd only be accepted if they "found their place" , something which would never happen. They weren't going to waste precious energy even making their family think it might.

Maki was sick of thinking about it, and just so over it. It didn't even bother them anymore, it just was. It was like a negligible object, something that had stuck to the background. Someone could point it out, but it's been there so long they hardly cared, it wasn't even something they thought about anymore.

Though the house remained exactly the same as Maki remembered, some things were different, maybe it was due to their mother's declining mental state.

For one, there were less people. It was strange, not to see more attendants walking around in carefully practiced paces. Maki's father who they never saw and don't remember would at least be felt by presence alone. In the way the staff held themselves, in the attitude they were treated with. But the longer Maki remained, the less it seemed like the man was here at all.

No one seemed to care where Maki went, the garden or around the house, everything seemed to be silent and free to roam.

At least with no one around, no one could say Maki didn't belong or wasn't allowed to go to the pantry past a certain time. There was a bit of childish joy at this that Maki would never tell Mai about.

They ate as much as they wanted and were willing to, they slept as much as they wanted, and Maki was not happy, but they were content by this point. That's as much as they would say, because to say happy was to forgive, and Maki didn't do that. None of the people who participated in their shitty childhood deserved forgiveness.

At least once a day, be it by accident or simply habit, Maki finds themselves passing by the small patch of flowers that their mother tended to. Sometimes they'll watch, see how out of all the things to remember, she always seems to know when to water which plants. Never messing up her routine. Their mother tended to the rotted petals, shaping the garden to pristine perfection every day as far as Maki saw.