Chapter Text
Chains of Obedience
Part I: Unsettlement
Kobeni stared at her reflection in the fogged-up bathroom mirror, her hairbrush slowly combing through her wet hair as a towel wrapped around her otherwise naked body. The silence of the apartment pressed in around her, heavier than it had any right to be.
She had always thought it strange how a place with so many dogs could be so eerily quiet sometimes.
Makima had been absent for a few days on one of the many mysterious missions she had to carry out, leaving Kobeni alone with only her thoughts for company.
Being left alone in a place that wasn’t hers was something she didn’t appreciate, even if she did live there and cared for it as if it were her own. Regardless, the apartment was too clean (Makima’s requirement, especially because of her pets), beautiful, and perfect for Kobeni to feel at home.
No matter how much time passed, she felt like a stranger, completely out of place amongst the expensive things around her—things she had not been accustomed to while growing up.
She had tried asking Makima for permission to change things a bit, to make the place look less ostentatious and more homely, but her companion would always smile at her sweetly and shake her head in that ethereal slow way that was very hers.
Silly Kobeni. You know you have no taste or practical knowledge in decorating; what could you improve here?
Well, Kobeni had no idea if she had any taste for anything at all since she never really had any money to spend on herself or her surroundings, but the fact alone that Makima didn’t even allow her to try and explore her ability always made her feel crestfallen and a little frustrated.
Makima was her first serious relationship—or at least she thought what they had was serious—and while Kobeni knew little about relationships, she didn’t think cutting off someone’s wings with something so simple should be a part of it.
Those thoughts were dangerous, always circling back to the same questions she didn’t have answers to.
Kobeni’s hand stopped combing her hair as she looked at herself properly. She wondered if the woman staring back at her, with hollow eyes and tired lines around her face, was still the same Kobeni who had joined Public Safety not so long ago.
Her body and hair smelled amazing. She now used the most expensive products money could buy and ate the highest-quality food, and while, at the beginning, the novelty of it all had marveled her, now she felt as if it meant nothing.
Yes, she slept in a highly comfortable bed and had access to things she didn’t have previously.
But none of it was truly hers, and all of it came with a price.
That apartment was a reflection of Makima’s world—expensive, immaculate, and aesthetic. Every corner was impeccably curated, from the minimalist furniture to the carefully chosen art pieces. It was the kind of space where nothing was ever out of place, much like the woman herself. Makima never allowed chaos or clutter, neither in her environment nor in her life.
Kobeni felt a familiar weight settle in her chest, the same one that crept up whenever she was left alone for too long. It wasn’t something she could understand well, but it resided inside her nonetheless.
She glanced at the pretty watch she had left over the sink, her anxiety rising as it always did. It was almost time to leave for the grocery store.
Her tasks were small, insignificant things Makima left for her to do. At the same time, she was gone—errands that made her feel useful, yet somehow made her feel even more like a child in an adult’s world, which was absurd because, after all, she was a working woman, a Devil Hunter of all things. Even if she wasn’t in love with her profession, she still fought and put her life on the line to make her own money.
But she still had an agenda that Makima expected her to fulfill without fail, and Kobeni always did it out of a sense of duty and also obedience, simply because she feared the consequences if she didn’t and Makima found out.
She didn’t know why this was, or why there was even fear involved. Makima had never hurt her or yelled at her, and yet she did have a way of admonishing her that was... particular.
Kobeni didn’t like it. It made her feel miserable and useless; inadequate and guilty.
Most of the days it didn’t bother her—or rather, perhaps she was simply used to it already—but when she was alone, her mind raced inevitably and she couldn’t help but wonder.
Was she not a good lover, a good partner, or a good housewife? Did she not do what she was told? Was she as dumb as she thought she was and never did anything right?
Taking a deep, shaky breath, Kobeni finished drying herself off and quickly headed to the bedroom to get dressed.
It was her day off but she still had many things to do, and time was running out. If Makima returned, she would have to find everything exactly as she expected.
000
The feeling of being trapped gnawed at her as she stepped out of the apartment, the crisp air hitting her face. She walked down the street toward the grocery store, trying to shake the pressure on her chest.
The sound of people laughing as they passed her on the street snapped her out of her thoughts for just a moment. She tried to focus, but it seemed that this was one of those days when she couldn’t escape her anxiety.
Luckily she was functional all the same—she had no choice.
As she reached the grocery store, her steps were too slow. The tasks Makima left for her were always simple, easy things that didn’t require much thought, but even in these small errands, Kobeni felt Makima’s presence, controlling her even from afar. Every item she picked up and every step she took felt like it was being watched, evaluated, and judged.
She knew it was an insane thought, but regardless, her lover seemed to always know what she was up to. Always.
As she gathered the groceries Makima had asked for, Kobeni couldn’t help but wonder for the umpteenth time why she felt so uncomfortable at times. Nothing was fundamentally wrong, and yet she was so on edge she felt the constant urge to flee and disappear.
The thought was terrifying, for some reason, but it lingered in the back of her mind as she finished her shopping and headed back to the apartment.
Her relationship with Makima was a secret, carefully hidden from everyone at Public Safety. It had been months now, and she still didn’t know how to feel about it because, in all truth, the two women had stumbled upon each other, and Kobeni couldn’t understand how they had reached this point.
It all started with Kobeni starting her job as Devil Hunter with Makima as her superior, and one moment she was taking orders from her at work, and the other one she was cleaning up Makima’s apartment for extra cash to help her family financially.
Makima was a stunning woman, and in her home, Kobeni was able to see all of her glory multiple times.
Admittedly, Kobeni had shyly observed her with growing interest and awe, and Makima, intelligent as she was, had noticed and had willingly exposed her body to lure Kobeni in.
Liking other women was something Kobeni had accepted about herself, but even through Makima’s obvious exposure, the younger girl had thought that her superior was merely jesting her.
This is to say that she had not, for the life of her, expected to ever find herself with knickers down and skirt up against Makima’s kitchen counter being fingered multiple times until she almost passed out from the best orgasms of her life as Makima kissed her all over as if she were the tastiest thing alive.
A strictly professional relationship had turned into a very sexually fulfilling one in hidden corners of the Public Safety building, not to mention the several times Makima had jumped Kobeni in her apartment.
The next thing Kobeni knew, Makima had asked her to move in with her.
Come live with me, she had said, and Kobeni had obliged without much thought because she wanted to escape her parents’ constant demands, and there seemed to be so many perks to it.
Besides, she felt wanted and was happy to a certain extent. The sex was amazing, and Makima was not only gorgeous but also a very good provider. Add this to the fact that Kobeni could finally escape her abusive parents and all the weight of responsibility they placed upon her, and it seemed heaven on earth.
However, she quickly understood that things were sort of balanced, yet not.
On the surface, Makima was her superior, the leader of Division 4, commanding and authoritative. But behind closed doors, things were different. Or, at least, they were supposed to be.
Kobeni was supposed to be Makima’s lover, and yet, even if at the beginning it felt that way, now she wasn’t that sure.
There were times when Makima was so soft and tender with her that it almost felt real. But there were also times when Makima’s touch was cold, calculated, a reward for good behavior rather than an expression of affection. That duality kept Kobeni on edge, and yet she kept finding excuses within herself to see things from a different perspective.
They were two very different people from two very different backgrounds. They had been together for several months now, but Kobeni still knew so little about her. Every time she tried to learn more, Makima would redirect the conversation or effectively shut her up.
The truth was, she wasn’t sure if she even knew what love was supposed to feel like.
Despite their secret relationship, Makima had never treated her differently on missions or during work in general. There was no special protection, no favoritism; if anything, Makima was harder on her than the others, sending her into dangerous situations without hesitation. Kobeni couldn’t count how many times she’d nearly died because of a mission Makima had assigned to her.
And each time she wondered.
Did Makima even care if she made it out alive?
It was a bit twisted, but it made sense that there could be no sign of favoritism. It had to be this way. But still, Kobeni found herself wondering just how much Makima truly cared for her, if at all.
Kobeni didn’t understand why they were together or why Makima had chosen her out of all the people. She knew Makima found her interesting to some degree, but why? What did Makima see in her that made her worth this odd kind of attention? And why was Kobeni herself drawn to someone she didn’t truly know?
Because she was drawn to Makima, not only because of her strength and beauty but also because of how freakishly mysterious she was.
Makima felt like the most difficult puzzle in the world.
Makima was powerful, beautiful, and commanding. Kobeni admired her, feared her even, but love? Could one love someone when you didn’t even know who they were? Or was this something else—something darker?
Kobeni wanted to know everything about her, and yet her gut feeling told her she was better off not knowing.
Why did she allow herself to be seduced into this kind of life?
To escape her miserable life, of course. It seemed like such a breath of fresh air when the opportunity arose, and yet now she couldn’t say that she felt better or happier than she was before
She often felt like she was being trained, like a pet learning to follow commands. When she did well, Makima rewarded her. When she faltered, Makima would remind her—gently, but firmly—of her place.
It wasn’t all that different from how her family had treated her, now that she thought about it. Her parents had always controlled her life, making decisions for her and pushing her in directions she didn’t want to go. The difference was that Makima was kinder about it and more subtle in her... coercion.
However, the result was the same. Kobeni felt like a puppy, eagerly waiting for approval, desperate to avoid punishment.
Makima had wrapped herself around Kobeni’s life so completely that it was hard to see where Makima ended and she began. There were moments—fleeting, rare moments—where Kobeni felt like things might be okay, like Makima’s soft touches and whispered words might mean something.
Kobeni didn’t know how much longer she could keep living this way, unsure of her place in the world or what this relationship truly was. All she knew was that the uncertainty, the fear, and the longing were slowly eating away at her, and she didn’t know how to stop it.
000
The sun had barely begun to set as Kobeni hurried down the street, her heart racing as she made her way home with quick footsteps. Her mission had taken longer than expected to complete—another taxing fight that had left her drained, both physically and emotionally. She was a mess, her clothes soiled with blood and dirt, ripped in places even, and while she would usually head back to Public Safety and shower, she had no time for that today.
The note she found a few minutes earlier in her purse had completely thrown her off guard and instantly filled her with a sense of urgency, and she knew she couldn’t go about the rest of her day as planned.
What was even a normal day anymore?
Home at 7. Dinner is Osso Buco.
As soon as she read the note, she checked her watch. It was 6:30 pm, and her heart had sunk. There was no way she’d make it back in time to have dinner prepared, and such a complicated meal of all things.
The panic that had gripped her was almost instinctual.
Makima had never been harsh with her, never raised her voice or struck her, but there were always consequences when Kobeni didn’t meet expectations. Said expectations were high.
Kobeni often wondered if she was right or wrong in feeling as though some people were entitled to expectations while others had to unavoidably meet them.
Makima was her superior in every aspect. She was her boss, intelligent and efficient in ways Kobeni could only dream of ever being, and probably one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen, or would ever see in her life.
Everybody wanted Makima, and everyone wanted to be Makima.
Makima also held a form of power unlike anything else that Kobeni knew. She hadn’t exactly seen the exact level, but she knew it, and she could feel it.
Her lover was not a Devil Hunter like all the others Kobeni knew. Despite her gracious frame and ethereal beauty, there was something in Makima’s tourmaline eyes that was dark and intimidating beyond reason, and while Kobeni had never personally witnessed her full power, her every instinct told her not to try and find out.
It wasn’t something Kobeni could explain, and in many ways, the fact that Makima often didn’t seem human was very terrifying.
Makima spoke and looked like an angel, yet people feared her for a reason, and Kobeni was no exception.
Despite this, Kobeni also knew sides of Makima that were hidden from others. The soft touches, the unexpected pampering, the overwhelming generosity, and her surprising ability to always know what Kobeni wanted and needed at the right moment.
It was a constant struggle between gratitude, contentment, exhaustion, and fear that Kobeni didn’t know how to interpret.
As she reached their apartment, sweating from running all the way there and short of breath, Kobeni fumbled with the key, her hands trembling as she pushed the door open. The apartment was as pristine and perfect as ever, but its comfort was not meant for her as she realized she had less than ten minutes to get everything ready.
The dogs immediately surrounded Kobeni with excitement, making it difficult for her to move, but she still did her best to pet them as she took off her shoes and hung her bag on the coat hanger on the wall. Trying to shoo some of them away and step over a few others, Kobeni eventually darted to the kitchen, quickly heading for the fridge to scan for ingredients, but it was hopeless. Osso Buco took hours to prepare, and there was simply no time.
To make matters worse, even if she had a lot of fresh produce ready for her to use, her brain was made of mush, and she couldn’t for the life of her come up with something fancy to put together at the last minute to try and make up for her failure, even if just a little bit.
Kobeni bit her on her lower lip, her mind running desperately in search of solutions—something, anything to avoid disappointing Makima.
The (not really) unexpected sound of the door unlocking startled her out of her thoughts.
Makima was home.
Kobeni’s heart raced as she stood rooted to the spot, stiff as a board and barely able to breathe, listening intently to the rustling of clothes that seemed too loud.
She was in trouble.
“Kobeni?” Makima’s even, almost sweet voice called out, but it offered Kobeni no reassurance.
“I… I’m in the kitchen,” Kobeni replied, meekly, unable to move as she waited for Makima to meet her.
True to form, Makima stepped inside the kitchen with a finger hooked in the knot of her tie as she loosened it, graceful as always, her gaze sweeping the place before settling on Kobeni.
Makima’s smile was soft and sweet, the kind that would have fooled anyone else. But Kobeni knew better—it didn’t reach her eyes.
“It doesn’t smell like Osso Buco here.” Her words were gentle, almost affectionate, but they sent a jolt of panic through Kobeni.
Kobeni flinched slightly, feeling her nerves light up like sparks. “No, I…”
Makima’s expression remained unchanged as she stepped closer, her voice dropping an octave. “Kobeni,” she said softly, the disappointment clear in her tone. “You’re late, aren’t you? How unfortunate.”
The words hung heavy in the air, and Kobeni felt her throat tighten. “I'm sorry,” she stammered, lowering her eyes and bowing her head like a scolded child. “I just got home. I didn’t have time…”
Makima’s hand touched her cheek, silencing her on the spot. Her fingers were cool yet impossibly soft against Kobeni’s flushed skin as she motioned for Kobeni to straighten up and look at her, which Kobeni did, even if all she wanted was to look away.
The touch was deceptively gentle, but there was no warmth in it. “No excuses, my darling,” she whispered, her thumb tracing the line of Kobeni’s jaw. “You knew what time I’d be home.”
Kobeni swallowed, a mixture of guilt and frustration shaking her. “I’ll start dinner now,” she said quickly, hoping to make amends to somehow fix her mistake.
Makima’s smile widened, but it wasn’t reassuring. Something was unsettling in the way her lips curled—something that made Kobeni’s stomach twist with dread. “No,” Makima said quietly, her hand falling away as she walked past Kobeni with the same effortless grace she always had. “I’ll take care of my dinner. You, however, won’t be eating tonight.”
The words stung and came as a shock, shaking Kobeni’s already chaotic state of nerves.
She bit down on her lower lip, her eyes dropping to the floor.
Of course, this was fair.
She hadn’t prepared the meal. She had failed. This was her fault, and by now, Kobeni knew Makima well enough to know not to defend herself—she would only end up losing the argument because her lover always knew what to say and which points to touch on to make her feel at a loss.
Makima moved around the kitchen with ease, humming a soft tune to herself as she prepared her dinner as if nothing had happened. Kobeni, however, remained where she was, her body tense with anxiety, her stomach growling audibly.
She knew she had to stand there and wait for Makima to tell her what to do next or dismiss her.
The silence between them was unbearable, broken only by the occasional clink of utensils or the soft scrape of a knife against a cutting board. It irked Kobeni how peaceful and seemingly carefreely Makima went about her affairs as if she felt nothing and was completely heartless towards Kobeni’s distress.
But well, this was part of the punishment, too.
Even the dogs seemed to feel the ominous tension because they didn’t dare step inside the kitchen.
Time ticked by, and soon enough, Makima sat down at the dining table with her perfectly plated meal. Kobeni stood by the kitchen counter, watching her, unsure of what to do, too anxious to move, still too ashamed to speak, and feeling also a little on the angry side but not brave enough to speak up.
The sound of Makima’s fork against her plate seemed deafening in the stillness of the kitchen.
“Kobeni,” Makima called out suddenly. “Come sit with me.”
Kobeni’s feet felt heavy as she made her way to the table, feeling somewhat like a dog herself, and it was the strangest thought—one she never had before.
Slowly, she sat across from Makima, her hands fidgeting in her lap. She wanted to apologize again, to explain herself, but the words got stuck in her throat.
Makima took another bite, chewing slowly and thoughtfully. “You’ve been distracted lately,” she said, her voice smooth and casual, but there was a dangerous hint of mock curiosity to it.
Kobeni’s heart sank. She knew exactly what Makima was talking about. She had tried to hide it, to pretend like nothing was wrong, but clearly, Makima had noticed.
She always noticed.
Eyes falling to Makima’s plate, Kobeni’s stomach churned again as her mouth watered. She was so hungry, having fought all day long without a chance to rest, eat, or drink, and the food teasing her looked very, very appetizing.
It was pure torture.
Shaking her head to clear it, she swallowed. There was no way she could lie because Makima would see through it as if Kobeni was made of clear glass.
“I’ve been... thinking about my family a lot lately,” Kobeni admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “They haven’t been answering my calls. It’s like they’ve cut me off, and no matter how much I think about it, I can’t understand why.”
Makima set her fork down delicately without making a sound before leaning forward slightly as she regarded Kobeni with an unreadable expression. Her eyes were sharp and calculating, but her face remained soft, almost sympathetic.
“Your family,” she uttered, her perfect nose twisting as if the words in her tongue were distasteful. “Tell me, my Kobeni... are you unhappy living here with me?”
The question was soft, but it was a trap, and Kobeni could feel it as if it was closing in around her. Her breath got caught in her throat, her mind racing, looking for the right answer. “No!” she said quickly, shaking her head vigorously. “No, it’s not that. I just… I miss my siblings... my little sister, she…”
Makima’s smile didn’t waver, but the coldness in her gaze grew sharper, and it effectively cut Kobeni’s words.
“Your family,” she repeated, her voice still soft but tinged with something darker. “The same people who wanted you to prostitute yourself for money? Who didn’t care about your well-being as long as you were useful to them?”
Kobeni flinched, the truth of Makima’s words slicing through her like a knife.
Her parents had pushed her into Public Safety as an alternate option for prostitution, never caring about what it did to her as long as there was money arriving. They didn’t care about her, and Kobeni knew this.
But they were still her family. Also, her younger siblings were not to blame.
“I know,” Kobeni whispered, her voice shaky, her hands trembling in her lap. “But... they’re still my family, Makima-san. I just don’t understand why they won’t talk to me.”
Makima sighed, shaking her head in mock disappointment. “Kobeni,” she said, her voice like velvet, smooth and soft. “You’re being very naïve, my darling, and I would daresay, ungrateful, too.”
The word hit Kobeni like a physical blow.
Ungrateful. Was she being ungrateful?
While she understood what the other woman meant, she didn’t feel like this was fair. Yes, Makima had offered to share the apartment, and indeed, she had allowed Kobeni to share the basic expenses, even if she made sure to take care of the most expensive things, plus, everything regarding the dogs was on her. Regardless, they were a balanced deal between them because Kobeni took care of the house and all the chores, so whatever Makima secured for them financially, Kobeni repaid with labor.
Still, Kobeni couldn’t speak to voice the frustration in her heart and the thoughts in her mind.
Why couldn’t she speak up? Why did she have to feel as if her every move was wrong—as if she was always in the wrong?
Was she always in the wrong?
Makima reached between them, taking Kobeni’s trembling hand in hers. The touch was gentle, soothing even, but there was an undeniable weight behind it that kept Kobeni rooted in place, her lips tightly shut.
“I’ve given you everything,” Makima continued, her tone sweet, almost affectionate. “I provide for you. I take care of you. I make sure you’re safe and that you don’t need to be abused and shoved around by your so-called family. You have a home here, with me. Isn’t that enough?”
Kobeni nodded quickly, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes but she was suddenly assaulted by doubt as conflicting thoughts and emotions overwhelmed her. “It is,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry, I just...”
“Your family doesn’t deserve you,” Makima said quietly, her thumb brushing against the back of Kobeni’s hand, lovingly, for a moment reminding Kobeni of why she had been so easily lured in by the woman’s charm. “They never did. They’re not the kind of people you want to return to, are they?”
The question felt like a trap, but Kobeni couldn’t bring herself to argue because, in a way, she was right. “No,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “No, they’re not.”
Makima had been a beam of light when Kobeni had been drowning in darkness. Never having experienced love or affection, Kobeni had been instantly enamored and infinitely grateful for Makima’s caring demeanor and the loving physical proximity they had. Her soft hands had always been kind, warm, and alluring, her eyes soft, curious, and attentive.
No matter what Kobeni thought or all the doubts that plagued her in times like this, she knew for a fact that she was truly wanted by Makima. This type of longing, however, took many forms, and not all of them were romantic or even sexual.
Kobeni was a physical personification of all of the things Makima wanted in a lover, and yet Makima didn’t want just a lover or just any lover.
She wanted a pet that could be a little more interesting than dogs—someone to groom just the right way, someone to keep her company, to satisfy her every whim, and someone she could use the way she saw fit.
Kobeni saw through it all, yet she was still confused. It all seemed a little cruel, and yet it was a mutual game of self-interest between them.
Weren’t all humans selfish? Just as Makima wanted a pet, Kobeni wanted security and affection, companionship, and perhaps this was why she always felt guilty, like she was always in the wrong for wanting more of this and less of that, because she’d had nothing from the start.
Makima’s smile returned, softer now, more intimate. “Good girl,” she murmured, squeezing Kobeni’s hand gently. “You belong here, with me.”
Kobeni wanted to believe her. She wanted to believe that this life, this relationship, was enough and that it made some sort of sense, twisted as it was. However, whenever she looked into Makima's beautiful eyes, she still felt alert, and her every instinct told her she was just kidding herself by believing she was safe.
Even if she had come from a dysfunctional family, they were still her family, and she still possessed no wish to simply break their bond forever.
Kobeni knew nothing about Makima’s family or if she even had one, and yet something inside her told her that she simply could not argue about this or try to explain her feelings to her lover, simply because, seemingly empathetic as Makima was, she would not be able to understand.
But in a way, she didn’t want Makima to feel like she was less important than her family.
“I miss them,” Kobeni still uttered, her voice barely audible. “Even if they don’t care about me anymore... I miss them. Some of them. It’s not that I’m unhappy with you, but I’ve always been surrounded by people and sometimes it just feels... strange to not be there anymore. It hurts to be cast away, I…”
Makima’s eyes darkened, her smile fading just slightly. “This conversation feels unfair,” she said, slowly but clearly, her voice carrying a note of warning. “I’ve done everything for you, and now you’re questioning it?”
Kobeni’s stomach twisted with guilt again. “I’m not… I just…”
“You’re being ungrateful,” Makima repeated, her tone gentle but firm. “And that’s disappointing. That I’m not enough for you. That you can’t be happy with all I am and all I do. That you don’t consider us a family.”
The words crushed Kobeni, the shame washing over her like a tidal wave.
Kobeni bowed her head, her chest tight with regret. “That’s not what I meant! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” she whispered.
Makima stood, and Kobeni closed her mouth, body stiff as her lover made her way to her and rested a hand on her shoulder, a light touch that felt too heavy. “I think you should go to bed,” she said coldly, her voice eerily calm. “You need time to think about this.”
Kobeni took a sharp intake of breath and immediately nodded, standing. The underlying threat in Makima’s tone left no further space for arguing, and she didn’t want to get into trouble—she'd messed things up enough already.
She didn’t dare meet Makima’s eyes as she bowed down and walked away, her heart heavy with sadness and frustration at not being able to stand up for herself and try to fight this unfair battle. Still, her mind was swirling with confusion, and a stupid voice inside her told her that it was all her fault to begin with and that Makima was right.
Nevertheless, as she lay in bed in the guest room that night, staring up at the ceiling, one thought lingered in her mind, clear and unwavering.
She had to visit her family and at least know what was happening so she could make peace with it, or apologize if it must.
No matter what Makima said or how much guilt weighed on her, she needed to know the truth.
000
Kobeni’s plan had felt flimsy from the start, like something fragile she had to hold close to her chest or risk losing entirely. Even as she slipped quietly out of bed that morning for some reason—Makima wasn’t even home anymore since she was an early riser and her work schedule always started before Kobeni’s and finished after Kobeni's—her heart was pounding in her throat; she knew that this wasn’t going to end the way she wanted it to.
Every step she took toward the door felt wrong, heavy with that sinking feeling that Makima was always, always watching. Still, the need to understand what had happened with her family surpassed the fear consuming her.
She tiptoed out of the apartment, barely daring to breathe as she moved, as though Makima would sense even the smallest movement even if she wasn’t around. The early morning air hit her like a splash of cold water once she made it outside and it perked her up slightly.
Tightening her jacket around herself, Kobeni clutched the fabric like a lifeline as she started walking towards the strain station. She had rehearsed this moment in her mind so many times, but standing there, out in the open, dread settled back in.
It's okay, Kobeni tried to reassure herself, even if she felt anything but relieved. She doesn’t know.
But something in the pit of her stomach twisted.
She didn’t make it very far though, because as she was halfway down the block, a sound made her freeze—a soft hum that sent ice flooding her veins. The hum of a very familiar car engine—Makima’s.
Kobeni’s body stiffened as if her legs had turned to lead, and she forced herself to turn around. The sleek black car she knew well was parking right beside her.
Heart skipping several uncoordinated beats, she watched as the passenger window slowly slid down, revealing Makima's lovely face, serene as ever, her eyes gleaming with that faint spark of knowing.
“Going somewhere?”
Makima’s voice was nothing but smooth, a mix of affection and something else—something Kobeni couldn’t quite name.
Kobeni opened her mouth, but her throat tightened, and the words died on her lips. Her feet felt rooted to the ground, cold sweat breaking out on the back of her neck.
“Why don’t I drive you?” Makima suggested without waiting for her reply; her smile was soft and innocent, but her gaze pierced right through Kobeni.
Every muscle in Kobeni’s body screamed at her to refuse, to say no, to run, but the familiar weight of Makima’s presence made her limbs heavy, sluggish, and useless. She didn’t stand a chance, and she knew for a fact that was in trouble already.
“I… I was just going to visit my family,” Kobeni admitted, her voice barely a whisper. She hated how small she sounded.
Makima tilted her head, her smile never faltering. “Of course,” she said sweetly.
“You don’t have to drive me, I…”
“Get in.”
Makima’s voice was controlled, calm, and almost inviting, but the assertiveness in her tone left no room for argument.
There was no choice. There never had been.
Kobeni silently nodded and walked around the car, silently opening the door and slipping into the passenger seat, her hands trembling as she fumbled with the seatbelt. The car's interior smelled faintly of leather and something floral, but it did little to calm her pounding heart.
As they drove, the silence felt thick and suffocating. She couldn’t dare to look at Makima, even though she could feel the woman’s presence beside her—cool, collected, entirely in control. Always.
Vaguely, she wondered if she should tell Makima where her family lived, but the woman seemed to know the way. Perhaps she had checked her files at Public Security.
Kobeni swallowed. How long had Makima been aware that she was planning on seeing her family in secret?
Makima didn’t ask questions, didn’t pry—she didn’t need to.
Her ever-present smile spoke volumes, the subtle curve of her lips letting Kobeni know that no matter what she did, no matter how far she thought she could run, Makima would always be two steps ahead.
It wasn’t a matter of control anymore; it was something far deeper, something that knotted in the pit of Kobeni’s stomach and twisted her insides into a sickening mess.
Control. That was the best word one could use to describe her powerful lover, and Kobeni didn’t understand why this made her feel so overwhelmed and weird.
When they pulled up in front of the old house that belonged to Kobeni’s family, Makima’s smile only widened as she turned to her. “Take your time, my love,” she said, her tone as light as ever. “I’ll wait.”
Kobeni swallowed again, the words doing nothing to make her feel better because Makima only used loving terms when something was seriously wrong.
Her throat dry, Kobeni nodded and stepped out of the car.
She took a moment to observe her family’s home and noticed that it looked peculiarly smaller and older than she remembered. It hadn’t been that long since she’d last been there, and yet, time and new perspectives had made her perceive things differently, it seemed.
The small yard was painfully overgrown and neglected, and the flowers Kobeni used to tend to were nowhere to be seen among the dirt.
No one cared for these details anymore.
Her legs trembled as she made her way to the door, every step feeling like it might give way beneath her.
She knocked once, then twice. Her heart pounded in her chest, and the silence on the other side of the door gnawed at her because she knew they had a large family where silence was never a thing.
Were they not home?
She knocked harder, her desperation rising.
And then, after what felt like an eternity, the door creaked open, revealing her younger sister, Akari.
Akari was twelve, almost thirteen, but seemed younger due to her stature and bowl-cut hair. She and Kobeni had always been close, so the older woman could not help but feel grateful that she was the one opening the door.
Kobeni’s breath hitched at the sight of her as her chest swelled with love—that was her favorite sister, after all. The girl’s brown eyes, once full of innocent curiosity, now looked hollow, burdened by something far too heavy for her young frame to carry. Kobeni wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull her to her chest, but she stopped herself.
“Akari,” Kobeni whispered, her voice barely audible. Her hands shook, so she closed them into fists. “How are you?”
The girl didn’t reply, staring at her with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth as if she couldn’t utter a word.
“Akari, close the door right now!”
It was their mother’s dry, harsh voice, and even if Kobeni hadn’t missed it at all, it still brought a pang of nostalgia and longing to her heart.
“Why… why haven’t you guys replied to my letters, and why do you keep hanging up my calls?” Kobeni persisted, confused. “Why won’t anyone talk to me?”
Akari’s gaze then shifted past Kobeni, and for the first time, Kobeni noticed how her sister stiffened, her knuckles turning white where they gripped the edge of the door.
Kobeni’s pulse quickened. She followed Akari’s gaze back toward the car, where Makima waited, perfectly still, gazing at her perfect nails without a care. Her heart sank.
“Is… is that her?” Akari’s voice was small and fragile, but the fear and revulsion laced in it was unmistakable.
Kobeni blinked, confused. “What? Her?”
Akari’s lips trembled, her wide eyes brimming with unshed tears. “Makima,” she whispered, her voice quivering. “It’s the first time I’m seeing her, but father... Mother and father told us we couldn’t talk to you anymore.”
Kobeni felt her blood run instantly cold. “What are you talking about?”
“She came here,” Akari continued, her voice cracking as her tears finally spilled over. “She told them that you belonged to her now. She said we couldn’t talk to you ever again. If we did, we’d be in trouble.”
Kobeni felt like the world was collapsing around her. Her legs felt weak, her mind racing as Akari’s words slammed into her, one after the other, like blows she couldn’t defend against. Belonged? The word rattled in her brain, echoing alongside the nauseating twist in her stomach. “I don’t understand.”
“She paid for you, so we’d never speak to you again!” The younger girl said, shaking her head. She looked so angry and sad, so frustrated that it tore at pieces of Kobeni’s soul that she didn’t even know existed.
“Paid them?” Kobeni repeated as if this was something she couldn’t register, and yet, a part of her had acknowledged the atrocity. “And they… accepted?”
“What do you think?” Akari hissed, clearly anguished, as she whipped her runny nose on her sleeve. “You left, so no one was bringing money in! Of course, they’d take the chance, Nee-san!”
“But… but I am still sending them money, even if not as much." Kobeni gasped in disbelief.
Akari shook her head and lowered her trembling voice, even if it still shook. “You know how they are,” she sniffed, utterly crestfallen. “Don’t send us any more money, Kobeni-nee-san. They’re just using you, even if that... that woman paid them.”
Yes, Kobeni knew, and that was why she had been happy to move out and live with Makima. Still, it was too much to process, and she didn’t know how to feel other than horrified and devastated.
“I miss you, Kobeni, and I’m sorry for everything. But that woman isn’t good, and you should walk away from her as soon as possible,” Akari whispered, her small voice so full of pain that it shattered whatever composure Kobeni had left. “We can’t talk to you anymore. Not ever. I’m so sorry.”
Before Kobeni could respond, before she could process the wave of shock and grief that threatened to drown her, Akari slammed the door shut, leaving her standing there, broken, trembling, and utterly lost.
The sound of the door closing echoed in her ears, muffling everything else. She stared at it as if willing it to open again, but deep down, she knew it wouldn’t. Tears blurred her vision as she stumbled back to the car, her body moving on autopilot, numb with shock.
Makima was waiting, her face serene, as if nothing had changed, as if she hadn’t just ripped Kobeni’s world apart—as if she was completely at peace with the permanent damage she had done.
And for what?
“All done?” Makima asked casually once Kobeni got in the car, her tone light, unbothered.
Kobeni’s throat felt tight, the weight of everything pressing down on her. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. The betrayal burned deep, and the anger that simmered beneath her skin flared up in a way she had never felt before.
Unmoved by Kobeni’s tears, Makima peacefully started the car.
They drove in silence for several minutes, during which Kobeni sobbed, sniffed, and gasped, but this time, Kobeni wasn’t just filled with sadness or fear. She was furious.
And Makima’s silence during her distress was nothing but unnerving.
Didn’t she care at all? Why didn’t she ask what was wrong, or at least pretend that she didn’t know and that she cared about her?
Taking a deep breath, Kobeni snapped. “Stop the car.”
The words left her mouth aggressively before she could stop them, her voice sharp and shaking with barely contained fury. Makima’s eyes flickered, but she obliged, pulling the car smoothly to the side of the road.
Kobeni unbuckled her seatbelt, her heart pounding in her ears as she turned to face her lover, her body trembling with anger. “We need to talk. Right now.”
Makima turned to her elegantly, her smile never faltering. But this time, there was something different—something darker, infinitely amused. She tilted her head slightly, her expression almost playful as her eyes gleamed with that unsettling glimmer that made Kobeni’s skin crawl.
“I’m all ears, pet,” Makima purred, her voice dripping with false sweetness, a chill running down Kobeni’s spine.
And for the first time in her life, standing there in the stillness of the car, Kobeni felt the full weight of what it meant to be under Makima’s control.
TBC...