For Mako’s birthday I’m introducing y’all to my trash ship Mako/Taiki, in just under a thousand words. This is in a Kakyuu-died Stars AU, though outside of a few lines it’s not super different (though I want to write a bunch in AU).

———

Taiki had pictured Makoto living is a small but quaintly luxurious house, even after she’d figured out it must be wrong, even after Usagi had mentioned she’d lived alone. It was still strange to her how people here filed their lives into cabinet buildings, assigning numbers so that one could tuck themselves into the right folder every night. It didn’t seem right to her, especially for someone like Makoto. Makoto reminded her sometimes of a Kinmokunian, a bright flower of life, too alive to be shoved away in some dark drawer of an apartment.

Did Galaxia keep Kakyuu’s star seed in a drawer? The other Starlights? The souls of every planet she’d taken? It was absurd and sad all at once, and when Makoto opened the door Taiki took a second too long to notice.

“What are you doing here?” Makoto crossed her arms over a well-worn apron. The smell of baking bread wafted around her.

“Oh, If you’re busy I can go. I just. I got you this.” Taiki shoved a shopping bag at her. It was supposed to be a custom, here on Earth, to bring a gift when you visited, but Makoto looked baffled. “I, um. I would like to come in, if you would have me.”

She looked at her with slight suspicion, but stepped aside. “Yeah, okay. Are you hungry?”

“I’m not sure.” Taiki knew it wasn’t the right answer, but she couldn’t think. She watched as Makoto pulled the tea kettle she’d bought from the bag and set it next to the one she already had on the stove.

Perhaps Taiki should have done more research for this. But it had felt so urgent, like she was drowning in the Three Lights’ flat, there hadn’t been time to be more thorough. She fingered the receipt still in her pocket. “I can take that back, sorry, I didn’t know–”

“It’s good to have an extra,” Makoto said firmly, though she smiled for the first time that night. “Thank you. Now, would you like some tea?”

“I’m okay, thank you.”

Makoto shook her head. “If you show up at my door, you have to let me serve you something. Sit down, we’ll have tea.”

Taiki sat uncomfortably at the edge of the couch while Makoto busied herself in the kitchen. There were picture frames on almost every surface, mostly of Makoto’s friends, but some Taiki assumed to be family. Those photos were clearly older than the rest. That would explain some of it, wouldn’t it? Makoto understood. Maybe she had lived in a luxurious house once, with big windows that let in the sunlight and a sprawling yard, and flowers, flowers growing everywhere, red fireball blooms and—

Makoto set a tea cup on a side table coaster with a small plink. “So why are you here?” She sat in a chair across from Taiki, nursing her own cup.

“My planet was destroyed.”

“Here as in my apartment, Kou, not Earth.”

“Yes. I know.” Taiki leaned forward to look at the floor instead of making eye contact. Makoto had placed a mat beneath the living room furniture, perhaps to delineate it from the kitchen in the same room. “Kinmoku was a planet of warmth, and flowers, and sometimes Earth doesn’t seem so different and sometimes it’s so foreign I can’t get my bearings. I like the school greenhouses, because they let me pretend I’m home.”

Makoto frowned. “If this is about the gardening club—“

“No, I just—“ Taiki breathed deep. They hadn’t done well, to foster so much animosity. Makoto’s defensiveness was no less than what Taiki deserved, but it made her ache. “I’ve seen you there, sometimes. You talk to the plants while you care for them. You’re very kind to them. And with everything… I just wanted to be around that kindness for a little while.’

Makoto didn’t respond for a long while. When Taiki looked up, she was staring off towards her photographs, pensive as she’d ever seen her. “Who are you missing, tonight?” She asked finally.

“Everyone,” Taiki breathed. “And everything. I should miss our princess most but…”

Makoto looked back and smiled gently. “There isn’t a most, most of the time, is there?” She stretched and sighed. “Sometimes I feel stupid, because when my parents died, we’d had a cat, and it got put in a shelter while I was shuffled around the system, and sometimes I miss the cat as much as mom and dad. Even though I can’t remember its name.”

Taiki found the cat in one of the photographs, held by a small girl struggling to keep it still for the picture. “Sometimes I just miss the way the air smelled. Sometimes I feel like if I were just home, everything would be okay.”

Makoto hummed, soft and sad. “We haven’t given you much credit, considering all you’ve lost.”

“We haven’t given you much reason to.”

“That’s true. But then again, my reputation as a delinquent wasn’t from nothing.” She pursed her lips for a moment, and then moved to sit next to Taiki on the couch. “Sometimes, people should get second chances.”

Taiki let herself sit back a little. “Sometimes, maybe.”

“But only if you’ll stop being such a goddamn prick about everything.”

A laugh escaped before Taiki could remember to be somber. Makoto smiled a sly smile. “Those are fair terms.”

“You’re getting off easy.” Makoto leaned back with her hands behind her head. “I beat the shit out of Haruka a few times before we called a truce.”

Taiki smiled. “Think you could give Seiya a taste of that?”

“I wouldn’t want to deny Haruka the pleasure.” Mako put a hand on Taiki’s shoulder. “You guys are gonna be alright.”

It sounded real, coming from Mako. She’d carved her place in the lonely world, and they could too.

And under the warmth of her hand, the world didn’t seem so lonely anyway.