Heat in the Shadows
The kiss didn't end so much as it changed tempo. Maki's mouth softened against mine, the ferocity melting into something slower… more deliberate. Her hands, warm and sure, framed my jaw as if she were afraid I might vanish if she blinked.
She's not holding me — she's claiming me.
I could feel the difference in her strength now. Even in the gentle press of her palms, there was no question she could lift me off the ground, pin me, or break bone if she chose. Not that she would — unless someone else tried to take me from her. Then… well, I'd pity the fool.
"Maki," I murmured, my lips brushing against hers, "you've changed."
Her smile was faint, her gaze unwavering. "I haven't changed, Master. I've just… become who I was meant to be."
A shiver worked down my spine — not of fear, but of recognition. The serum didn't create something new in her; it crystallized what was already there. Before, she was obsessive. Now… she was absolute.
Her knees pressed into the mat on either side of my hips, her fingers tracing idle patterns down my neck. "Every second you're not with me feels like a second stolen from my life," she whispered, and I could hear the dangerous sincerity in her voice. "I can't stand the thought of anyone else touching you… even looking at you for too long."
Yandere dialed to eleven.
The system might as well have stamped "Property of Maki" across my forehead. And yet… I didn't push her away. Why would I? I liked knowing she'd cut down anyone who so much as thought of crossing me. I liked knowing her loyalty wasn't the wavering kind that could be tested. No — it was carved into her very soul now.
"You're dangerous," I told her.
Her lips brushed my ear as she murmured, "Only to everyone but you."
The sound of her voice sent a thrill through me, but before I could reply, she was on her feet, offering me a hand. "Again."
I blinked. "What?"
"We spar until you can beat me," she said simply. "If you're going to lead me, Master, then you need to be stronger. And now…" Her smirk deepened. "I'm not easy prey."
Her tone wasn't challenging — it was worshipful. As if the idea of me being stronger than her was the most natural, beautiful truth in the world.
I accepted her hand, letting her pull me up. "Careful what you wish for," I said, though the John Wick instincts thrumming in my blood told me I'd need more than one spar to catch up to this version of Maki.
The next hour blurred into a cycle of attacks, counters, and the sound of bodies colliding with the mat. She was relentless, every movement efficient, every strike sharp. And yet… each time she had the upper hand, she left openings — small, deliberate — as if inviting me to exploit them. Teaching me.
By the time we stopped, sweat slicked both our bodies, breaths coming heavy. My muscles burned in the best way.
Maki reached for a towel, tossing it to me. "You learn quickly," she said, pride softening her voice.
I smirked, wiping my face. "Maybe I just have a good teacher."
Her gaze lingered a moment too long, the corner of her lip lifting. "You have more than that."
I didn't ask what she meant. I already knew.
We left the private gym together, Maki walking half a step behind me — not out of deference, but out of instinct, her eyes constantly scanning the hallway, every passerby measured and judged in an instant. I could feel her presence like a shadow stitched to my own.
And as we stepped into the cool evening air outside the building, I realized something:
Maki wasn't just stronger now. She wasn't just mine.
She was my weapon.
And marvel universe wouldn't know what hit it next.
We stepped out of the private gym, the hall lights warm against the cool tile floor. My muscles hummed from the sparring, every nerve still alive with that adrenaline-laced satisfaction you only get from a fight that tests you.
Maki walked just behind me, a silent shadow — but there was something lighter in her eyes now. Less guarded. Like she'd gotten exactly what she wanted tonight.
I caught sight of our reflection in the glass doors as we passed: me, hair a little mussed from training, skin still faintly flushed; her, gaze fixed solely on me like the rest of the world didn't exist.
A laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it.
Maki tilted her head. "What's funny, Master?"
"Nothing," I said, still smiling. "Just… I'm in a good mood."
Her lips curved in response, soft but satisfied. "Then we should do something about it."
"Oh? And what do you suggest?" I asked, glancing over my shoulder.
"Whatever makes you happiest," she said simply — and there wasn't a trace of irony or teasing in her voice. She meant it.
I slowed my pace, the idea taking root. Vegas at night was still alive beyond these walls, pulsing with light, music, and the scent of expensive temptation. And I had money — a lot of it. Enough to bend the city's will if I wanted.
"You know what?" I said, turning fully toward her. "We're going to celebrate."
Her brows lifted just slightly. "Celebrate?"
"Yeah," I said, already picturing the view from a penthouse balcony, the Strip glittering beneath us. "Big wins deserve big nights."
Maki's smile widened, that subtle possessiveness threading through it again. "Then I'll make sure nothing — and no one — gets in the way."
"Good girl," I murmured, brushing past her toward the exit. "Let's make the city remember us."
And just like that, my night had a new purpose.