[ Maruki has spent the lion's share of the time since Christmas Eve in his Palace. It's necessary for his work, of course, but more than that, it's comfortable. A home for all of the research he's spent so much of his life toiling over, a place with the means to throw himself into the work he was truly meant for – and everything so clean, so simple. Being in the Palace is like slipping beneath warm bathwater, subsumed and soothed. Who would ever want to leave?
But he has left, on occasion. It isn't strictly necessary for his work – the monitoring room, in all its splendor, shows him everything he could possibly need to see. No, it's simply for pleasure. It's one thing to see the effects of altered cognitions from on high, but another to walk among them. He finds it deeply gratifying to wander through familiar streets and see how blissful life has become for so many. Families who can fully enjoy their time together, friends whose bonds are never strained or tested. People sharing good news, celebrating dream careers and graduations, weddings and retirements. His heart nearly bursts to see it: all those pains from their previous lives, large and small, swept aside so they can finally experience true contentment.
Tonight, for the first time, his meandering has purpose.
He's given Akira and Akechi one week to immerse themselves in this new reality and see how wonderful life could be. When it comes to Akira, he's less concerned. Throughout their many conversations, two things became clear to Maruki: there is no one more dedicated to their friends, and no one more steadfast in their own convictions than Akira. A fascinating dichotomy, a fascinating young man. Both possibilities seem equally likely – Akira could stand on his principles and reject this reality, or he could realize how much happier his friends are with their newfound freedom and choose to honor that. Maruki doesn't know what he will choose in the end, but he at least knows what the possibilities are, and he knows that there are ways to convince Akira that what he's done is right.
On the other hand, Goro Akechi is his blind spot.
That uncertainty is what compels him to leave Odaiba and make his way to Kichijoji, weaving his way through crowds of happy couples and groups of friends and tourists who never get lost. As he settles into a comfortable seat in Jazz Jin and orders a cocktail, he taps one foot to the music and keeps one eye on the door.
Akechi made his stance perfectly clear in the Palace. He'd referred to this perfect reality as brainwashing, called it revolting – Maruki hadn't expected such a visceral reaction. Still, Akechi's view of it is valid, in his own way. Maruki has no interest in forcing him to change his mind, and even less interest in fighting him.
But he can't accept that there is nothing that could be done to help Akechi see how beneficial this new world could be for him. Surely there's something. There must be some small part of Akechi that wanted a fresh start. There must be a way to show him that he deserves a life devoid of suffering, just as everyone else does. Maruki wants him to want this, too. It's only a matter of finding out how to get Akechi to let himself want it.
When Akechi enters, Maruki feigns surprise and smiles genially at him. ]
Akechi-kun! I didn't expect to see you here.
[ A white lie, harmless. Maruki waves him over and gestures to the empty seat next to him. ]
Why don't you join me? The singer tonight is wonderful.
[There's experience gained in flitting on the edges of society's grasp - stuck on the edge of two worlds with no interest in either. Perception became key and observing second nature - supposed natural gifts he was lauded for in interviews, but it was life that molded it into a necessary survival skill.
Reality was wrong when he woke up. Confirmed true through investigation, alliances with rivals and dead turned living. People whose bodies wisped through his fingers, under his heel, standing tall in a world they don't belong in. The supposed culprit making himself known and the whirlwind of bullshit that followed was -
Exhausting in its tenacious hold. Maruki a puppet master under a new name, with a lofty goal held behind false altruism. Akira's resolve is strong. His own, untouchable. It's a matter of sifting through those who couldn't maintain their will. There are perks in gained arms and detriments in the time earning them. It leaves him restless - annoyed and tense when there's nothing to do outside of mindless research. Ammo from articles, books, notes - anything he could get his hands on.
But even that avenue is exhausted to its limit, much like his own patience and of all the worldly comforts he afford himself-
Jazz Jin was one. A place free of Shido's influence and a hole in the wall that fit neatly in spaces between two worlds. Muhen never asked too many questions and he was never asked to do more but sit. Listen. Be lulled into feigned peace from the soft edges of songs and dimmed lights.
It was his. Only his and now a disease has infiltrated his home. The man waving him over from a familiar table like they're passing acquaintances - comfortable and content.
Maruki's presence would've had less of an impact if he had been seated on his unused couch, holding a cup of expired instant coffee in the center of his apartment. The image is jarring - he was prepared for an infiltration, but not here.
Ramrod straight, he assess the sight before him from the doorway - momentarily blocking another person from coming in, who slides behind him with annoyance.
Akechi, for the briefest second, flits with the idea of finding Shido's old dealers in one of these dark alleyways and finishing this night with a bullet to the good doctor's skull.
But he doesn't. Continues to stand there for one, two, three seconds. This isn't an accident. Not a mistake. Maruki does not belong here and the frayed edges of reality seem more apparent than ever.]
Oh? Don't want to sit and wait in your ivory tower?
[Tense. On edge. Contorted and twisted - a tone barely held together. Muhen's gaze turning his way at the foreign sound out of Akechi's mouth and-
He moves to his table - Maruki plastered in Akira's common spot a factor he notes with great distaste as he seats himself. This is a place he refuses to be pushed out of. This is his.]
You and I both know this isn't an accident - don't insult me by acting like anything in your reality is mere coincidence. Spit out whatever you're here to say, but keep in mind I lack Kurusu's hesitation on how to deal with you and you're not safe simply because you left the Metaverse.
[ If Akechi did choose to turn about face and march straight back out the door, it wouldn't be too huge of a blow. True, Maruki knows just enough from sifting through the shimmering strands of the collective unconscious to know that this is the place most likely to get him to relax, if only minutely – and even that seems like a vanishing chance. But it's worth a try, and if Akechi left this place, there are others where Maruki could find him.
But he doesn't. He's all tightly corded tension as he crosses and seats himself, all acid when he speaks, but he's staying. That's a choice, a deliberate one. That's a good sign.
Maruki winces with a little laugh at the pinpoint accusation. ]
Guess it doesn't take a detective to see how bad of an actor I am, huh?
[ The threat boldly implicit in his words doesn't go unnoticed, and Maruki knows he's at a significant disadvantage here. He's never claimed to be a fighter or anything even close. Even in a perfect reality, sometimes he throws his back out just by sleeping wrong! It's a self-deprecating joke he'd make to one of the Shujin students to put them at ease, bring himself down to their level so they could speak casually to one another, but that clearly isn't the tack to take with Akechi.
He has no weapons on him, never has in his life. Not terribly skilled at throwing a punch or two without hurting himself just as much in the process, and not great at dodging or running away, either. Azathoth lingers in the back of his mind, somehow, but he can't summon shadows to fight for him here and hasn't had reason yet to try fighting for himself. There is so much about the other applications of this power that he doesn't understand just yet. He's easy prey outside the Metaverse, a sitting duck if Akechi decides he does want to deal with him.
So he holds up both hands in front of his chest and speaks honestly. ]
I have no fight with you, Akechi-kun. I mean that. I'm not here to force you to change your mind. That's never my intention.
[ Every word would drip sincerity if wrung out like a wet rag. Maruki has never known how to be anything but earnest, and hopefully Akechi can see that it isn't bullshit.
He drops his hands and folds them calmly on the table, smiles at the boy again. ]
Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to get to know you a little bit better? You're the only one of his friends that I never got the chance to meet.
[ Maybe friend isn't the right word. A detective and a phantom thief, diametrically opposed in a fated rivalry– but that isn't all that there is to it, right? What little he does know, he's gleaned from Akira's own experiences and cognitions. He'd like the opportunity to learn from Akechi himself.
Agency, choices. Maruki might be making the slow ascent to a sort of godhood, but even god provides free will. These things still matter. ]
[Instant and harsh, sharpened by a life spent acting to perfection and being thrown away because of it. No one wants to know Akechi Goro. He isn't interested in anyone trying. An image was all people wanted - one burned in a fiery explosion in the depths of a piece of shit's palace. Not even the ashes remain.
It's the other words that pique his interest - a curiosity from a past life and a desire to solve enough to keep him hanging on every putrid word. Every pathetic lie, despite the sincerity oozing. It's easy to fake in a normal world. He imagines that's child's play for a god to figure out tone and verbiage.
'I'm not here to force you to change your mind' is appeasement, but irrelevant. It won't happen and-
'You're the only one of his friends that I never got the chance to meet' elicits a bark of a laugh on the edge of frenzied and a hand presses into his forehead for the briefest moment.
This guy is an idiot. He doesn't know a goddamn thing and this is the person twisting, teasing, tearing apart reality. This is who managed to achieve the powers of a god.
He catches Muhen in his peripherals again and resituates himself in his chair, arms resting in his lap like normal and letting the soft voices around him soothe him like normal and keeps his eyes on a pseudo god invading his world like-
Not so normal. Not so easy to peel his eyes away from.
This is about getting intel from him to exploit Akira then - find out something about Akechi to wield against his golden idol, as if there's anything to be used. As if they aren't working together out of convenience and necessity. Akechi promised he wouldn't act rashly, alone or with a killer's intent in reference to this situation.
But Maruki came to him and he'll make him pay for it.]
Oh, but by all means - let's chat. In fact, I can tell you all you need to about me or rather-
[Saccharine and fake. Dangerous and unwieldy. A tone guarded and free all the same.]
I'm happy to provide that. I'm sure it will enlighten you greatly about my place in Kurusu's happy little world. After that, I suggest you leave and go hide in your goddamn palace until we come to end you.
[ Oh, Akechi. OhhhhHHHH Akechi. Thank you for playing right into his hand, you're a good sport.
Maruki weathers the barbed words coated in a sugary veneer well. He hasn't been delusional enough to believe that any conversation with Akechi would be easy; he expects nothing but verbal skewerings on his end and won't let it deter him.
When his brows knit together and the corners of his mouth turn down, it isn't because he takes any offense to what Akechi's implying about his motives. It's more to do with the growing clarity of the deep well of pain that Akechi draws from in his every movement, every word. It's one thing to have vague perceptions of his true nature outside of the media, informed only by what he's been able to skim off the surface of Akira's well-guarded mind. It's something else entirely to witness it in full color and motion, right in front of him.
There's a tugging, constricting feeling in his ribcage. Warm sympathy flooding his nerves. He can't imagine what could have happened to a person so young to make them think so little of themself. He's tried to help as best he can with what he knows, wiping Akechi's crimes from this reality's history – but it must run so much deeper than that. He could do more to give Akechi the life that he truly deserves, devoid of any suffering, if only he knew–
Maruki leans back in his seat, regards him contemplatively for a moment longer before he speaks. ]
I don't see you as a plaything for Kurusu-kun's world, you know.
[ There's no need to mince words. If anyone should happen to overhear and have cause for concern or confusion, he'll simply smooth it over later when he returns to the laboratory. ]
This fresh start is for you just as much as it is for him. And even if he wasn't involved, I would still think that you deserve it. So why don't we leave him out of this?
[ And then he smiles again, his serious tone sliding back into that of a friendly counselor. ]
Unless you want to talk about him, of course. I'm all ears for whatever's on your mind.
[Every word heard over the singer is a flick against a shoddy lighter next to a gasoline coated fuse. Each spark makes his fingers clench in his lap until that knuckle white grip twists into his palms, soft leather protecting flesh. An unwavering expression plastered on the man next to him, as if staring down Maruki long enough will erase him from the seat he's occupying. As if he'll fade into the background of dimmed lights. A temporary hallucination.
But he doesn't.
He sits, illuminated by it - a mockery of an ethereal glow. An image that nauseates him. Kurusu's name oil in a torch. It doesn't matter that he brought it up. Maruki downplaying the ultimate goal of the conversation is borderline insulting - of course Kurusu is the target. Leave him out of this as if every carefully chosen word won't be used against him in the future. A sentimental idiot whose capacity to care is a detriment - despicable and exploitable.]
Fine then. Only a plaything in your world.
[Instant. Quick. Sharp. Agreement doesn't matter when he already knows the intent. Maruki playing the part of a liar - an act that needs some work under the merciless rule of another. It makes sense he doesn't know how to twist truths effectively, when he's the thumb everyone's under.]
How magnanimous of a deity to forgive a murderer for all their crimes, for no reason at all. It makes me wonder how many others are running free right now, staining your perfect little world in blood.
[A blade pressed to his throat, a white hot muzzle against his skull, a tight wound noose around his neck - words can't match the effect, but he's making every attempt to do so.]
My, the fact I'm allowed to walk the same streets as Okumura and Isshiki shows so much disdain towards their children, I almost wonder if you hate them. I guess they didn't make the cut on your list of favorites. It's quite sad.
[ Akechi can keep attacking him all he wants – every word he spits through that carefully constructed veneer of calm only serves to make Maruki's sympathetic heart pity him more and more. The pain within him is vast, limitless. If they had been able to meet under happier circumstances, Maruki would have liked to have had the time to set him at ease, gentle him into opening up about even a fraction of the darkness gnawing at him. There is no one on this earth that should have to bear burdens severe enough to turn them into a person like this.
Maruki hums thoughtfully, rests a hand against his chin as he takes it in. The implication that he could ever hate Haru or Futaba, ever wish them ill enough will to hurt them by bringing Akechi into this reality alongside their parents, wrenches his heart further. It's incredible, really, just how backwards Akechi has all of this.
But he raises a good point, somewhere in that simmering, roiling mess of rage. Maruki mulls it over a moment longer before leaning forward again, picking up his drink to take a sip. ]
I think your viewpoint is fascinating. May I challenge it?
[ It's a rhetorical question. He sets the glass down, idly runs one finger in meaningless patterns through the condensation. ]
Do you believe that there's no substantial difference between someone who commits crimes with malicious intent and someone who is forced into criminal action by their circumstances? Both are causing pain for others, I won't argue with you on that, but only one of them is doing it purposefully.
[ Hypotheticals and thought experiments are all well and good, but he respects Akechi enough to be as direct as Akechi has been with him. ]
If it had ever been up to you, Akechi-kun, you wouldn't have even touched Okumura or Isshiki. I don't want to forgive your crimes. I want to give you a world where you were never forced into them. You didn't deserve that.
[ It's stated in a tone that is soft but plainly factual. This is the strongest pillar at the very foundation of Maruki's beliefs, of this reality. Akechi can rail against it if he'd like, if it makes him feel better to get it out of his system – it will take a lot more than that to break it down. ]
[Picking at open wound is a hobby - a well crafted skill honed by time and effort. Rubbing salt on festering rot is satisfying. Not in the same way as wringing his fingers around Shido's neck would've been, but close enough. Safe enough. It's reserved for those who want to claim they know him and-
Maruki is challenging. No sense of ire or displeasure on his face as he sips at the drink - as if they're conversing over the weather, philosophy, gossip over a sudden change in lifelong news anchors. As if it's mundane, normal and wanted. He isn't taking the bait. A godhood perk, he images, but everyone has a limit.
He'll find it.
Akechi bristles - his own words used against him like a misplaced spell to a makarakarn shield. He's gone through a bizarre acceptance of Shido's manipulation over him, but that doesn't change a thing.]
It was up to me.
[Blunt. Icy. Decisive.]
And I made the decision to do it. The gun I held to the heads of others wasn't ever held to mine.
[Shido's cabal and cleaner aside, he could have stopped. Lied. Didn't need to end the lives of so many for a man he despised. Cognitive research wasn't far enough to prove otherwise. He may have found himself at the end of a bullet sooner, when his use wore out a few years earlier, but Akechi would've taken that man with him. He wasn't thinking - did what he was supposed to do, lapped up that false praise and accepted the a benevolent benefactor in sparsely decorated apartments and easily manipulated freedom.]
I was forced into nothing, so your argument is invalid. I could have lived my pathetic little life as other forgotten children do. A simple, quiet existence of being ignored by society. Many people do, easily, without staining their hands.
[The buzz of a lightbulb forces his eyes upwards - a soft calming hum in a dark room. A second to recalibrate and-]
Perhaps I'll do it after our meeting to prove a point. Maybe I'll go for Okumura first this time.
[A steady voice doesn't belie his bluff and he keeps his eyes on the humming, buzzing bulb until thin bright lines cover his vision. Maruki temporarily distorted out of his vision when he finally pulls his gaze down. A pleasant surprise that lasts only a few seconds.]
Edited (what if............i could use words..........what if........wouldn't that be amazing. anyway do you know about pauxatawny phil and the groundhog potion he drinks. ) 2024-04-25 00:54 (UTC)
If Akechi's looking to draw a reaction out of him beyond friendly curiosity or placid concern, that'll do it. For a moment, Maruki's eyes widen behind his glasses and his hand stills. It isn't fear, necessarily – more the full body shock that would briefly paralyze you if you were walking down the street, turned the corner, and came face to face with a bull. The moment before it charges, before you run, when all your mind can supply as it tries to catch up to reality is this isn't supposed to be here.
In the back of his mind, Maruki does wonder what he would do if Akechi made good on that threat. Fix it, obviously. But would it even be permitted to happen? He can't imagine that it would. The idea that he has somehow managed to create this world of perfect contentment but left it open for such a simple destruction– he would never forgive himself.
No, he wouldn't allow it. He's always been opposed to any use of force, but perhaps there are exceptions after all.
When he speaks, his voice is steady. ]
I wouldn't suggest trying that.
[ There is no part of Maruki that believes a person as brilliant as Akechi genuinely wanted to commit those murders, or would genuinely want to again. The cognitive dissonance between how he speaks of himself and what Maruki knows to be true from being tapped into the pain of the collective unconscious is a great, gaping chasm. Too wide to build a bridge over at the moment. Regroup.
He sighs, runs a hand through the hair flopped gracelessly over his forehead – he's gotten so used to having it pushed away from his face in the Palace. When a waitress passes by, he smiles and gestures for another drink. They're ridiculous, purple and fizzy and far too sweet, but maybe it'll be more to Akechi's taste than his own. ]
Sorry, I should have offered earlier. It's on me, don't worry. Not that I think you would!
[ HE CAN JOKE ABOUT WHAT AN UNSETTLING KID YOU ARE, AKECHI. HE CAN LAUGH!!! SEE WE'RE HAVING FUN WE'RE LAUGHING oh god
Beyond the threat, something else Akechi said sticks in his mind. And he did say that he'd tell Maruki anything he wanted to know, so– ]
When you said 'forgotten children' – what did you mean by that?
Edited (u ever reread what u wrote before bed and go wow bitch learn clarity) 2024-04-25 07:01 (UTC)
[There's respite gained from that shift in expression - a victory in words hitting their mark against someone who was starting to feel untouchable. Sentimental doesn't describe Maruki. Lofty ideals too warped and grotesque to put him on the same level as Kurusu, but that-
He notes it. Tucks it away as a potential last resort. A Hail Mary plan. The implicit warning in his response means he's onto something. There's not a single part of him interested in dirtying his hands with that rotten CEO or anyone else on Shido's previous hit list.
But, for fun, he'll take the opportunity to seek out Okumura tomorrow and play chicken on how much their boundaries can overlap, now that it's been spoken between them. It's research and something reportable now that all his current leads are dead. Akechi looks all too satisfied by his reaction and-
There's a drink in front of him now, ushered out by a waitress who knows his tastes as well as Kurusu does. The ratios are different than Maruki's own and the carbonation looks minimal in comparison. One he doesn't touch yet - not willing to give him the satisfaction of taking a handout.]
I wonder-
[One leg slides over the other - a comfort brewing in these minor moments that feel like winning. The buzz above him starts to fade, the singer's tenor takes over what that distracting hum leaves behind. He shared too much with Kurusu and wasn't sure how much their new puppet master gleaned. Not everything and-
What's left is his - dangling legs hovering over a tipped chair, visible only through a small crack in a door that never shut quite right and-
Blurred edges of homes that spoke with silence and fists, dirt and rot. It's his own. Protected. His mother is forgotten in a world full of wrongs - ease pulls back tension at the thought.]
You know, there are a great deal of people who are caretakers and parents simply for the accolades and money. Some even enjoy tormenting those weaker than them. In a perfect, ideal world twisted around those-
I wonder if your disgusting reality created a nightmare for a great deal of others. It's fascinating to think about how that's going to be accounted for.
[Said in a tone too light, too airy. Tension oozes out of his shoulders - a moment to relax against the chair's back.]
In fact, it's quite funny to think about who will gain priority and whose misery who be considered a necessity for the greater 'good' of society. I suppose some things never change.
Edited 2024-04-25 13:56 (UTC)
akechi baby i am so sorry, you got him to villain monologue
[ Well, that's pretty much the non-answer he expected. As nice as it would be for Akechi to freely give up the details of his life, Maruki's not surprised he sticks to oblique references. He feels a bit like a cat whose owner is dangling a toy just out of reach over his head; Akechi clearly enjoys having the upper hand, taunting him with just enough information to generate a dozen more questions that will go unanswered. It's not a game Maruki is particularly interested in playing. He's never been in the business of forcing someone to say more than they're ready to.
Unwittingly, though, he's only furthering Maruki's belief that his criminal acts were no fault of his own. Sure, a gun was never held to Akechi's head as an ultimatum – but that doesn't mean he wasn't forced into a corner by a steadily snowballing series of circumstances. Even if it's true that he and he alone made the conscious decision to hurt, to maim, to murder– isn't that choice only the end result of a young life that's known nothing but pain?
Maruki doesn't need to know the specifics, from Akira's cognition or from Akechi himself. He knows enough now. ]
I'm well aware that the world is full of people like that. Maybe I haven't seen the same ugliness in my own life that you have in yours, but I hope you know that I haven't been blind to it either.
[ Shibusawa was entirely in the right when he suggested that Maruki reorient his career around counseling rather than research. With a wide open bleeding heart and endless patience to meet people where they're most comfortable, it was a natural fit. What he couldn't have predicted was how directly interfacing with people – young people at that, many who have suffered so much more than anyone ought to – would only make his desire to find a cure for emotional wounds more feverishly intense. Instead of gently drawing him away from his obsessive research, it rocketed him further into the gnarled, twisted heart of it.
If they met and had this same conversation any time before Christmas Eve, Maruki would be able to keep the conversation theoretical – segue into a discussion about an experiment, perhaps, or stick to open-ended questions to keep Akechi talking. But everything that has transpired since then – and especially since the dawning of this new year, this new life – has made him too shrewd for such an approach anymore.
He doesn't mirror Akechi's movement, relaxing back into the chair. He rests both elbows on the table, clasps his hands and speaks with a quiet, plaintive intensity. ]
If someone's ideal life meant inflicting pain on others, it would be in direct opposition to the world I'm creating. And that won't happen – I wouldn't allow it to. I mean that quite literally. Akechi-kun, don't you wonder what drives people to treat others so horribly? Is it part of their intrinsic nature? Something they're born with?
[ He closes his eyes for a moment, as if the mere idea causes him pain, and shakes his head. ]
I don't think so. Not at all. If someone enjoys tormenting those weaker than them, as you said, it must be because they've been tormented themselves. There are some pains that are too great to bear, so they pass that pain on to others. But if all pain is removed from the world, they would never have experienced whatever it was that made them act that way. That is what I'm aiming for. These imbalances you're speaking of for the good of society– they just won't exist.
[ And then a desperately hopeful smile, an offer extended. ]
You would never be hurt because the people who hurt you wouldn't have the desire to. Please, won't you let me give you that?
villains???? monologues????? to hell with THAT [will power plays in the distance]🎵🎶🎵🎶
To his credit, not a single word passes his lips during the exposition, not a single muscle twitches out of line. Every single word piercing in its intent. The geniality oozing, as if he means it. The false compassion from another egotistical maniac has a different background than the smoke filled walls of a politician's office, but the concept is the same - I know better, I am better and I will guide better.
A captain. A messiah. All coated in fool's gold.
A heavy exhale escapes him - releasing smoke from the fire in small doses. This place is his and he won't mar it with a violent reaction. With being kicked out. Even if Maruki warped it back to normal afterwards, Akechi would never return of his own volition in respect for the real wishes of the club owner.
In another time, this conversation would be enjoyable - he could see it, briefly. Bitterly. A back and forth over good and evil, thesis and antithesis, nature vs nurture and -
It annoys him to realize it. Makes him unloop his legs back. Puts him on guard with straightened posture and fingers clenching the edge of the table, as if that simple act will ground him.]
No, I will not turn into a puppet or become an Akechi Goro that isn't real. I refuse. My actions are mine. My life is mine. The consequences are mine to live with and I will do so until it's not possible.
[Arms cross and uncross. It's uncomfortable without the guise of the Metaverse coating him protective armor and masks - schooling his face takes effort. Keeping a steady tone is brutal. Cross and uncross. Table to lap. The fabric of his pants feeling the brunt of his intense grip.]
You're delusional in your intent. Even if a cycle of torment were to end on the surface, it will always remain within a person. You're arrogant if you think all human misery can be ended by removing what you perceive as pain. By pretending every bad person in the world is that way because of the people around them. In your world, you would find the truest, and most brutal, form of evil. Or so I would imagine, if you had any hope of succeeding.
[It's an interesting concept - one that won't be seen to fruition. If any other person were to utter this concept to him, at a point prior to his untimely death, he would have discussed it endlessly. Happily. Content in theoretical concepts and logical arguments.]
Even in a paradise, someone will always bite the apple. Your perfect world will never be a utopia and all you will have done is spit in the face of everyone you've warped to an image you deem acceptable.
[ Maruki watches him so, so carefully throughout his grit-teeth tirade. His smile fades, expression shifting into the open fascination of a scientist observing their test subject. Oh, he couldn't disagree more with Akechi – wants so badly to challenge his assertion that a life without the consequences of his pain would turn him into a puppet, rather than the wholly actualized version of himself that he was always meant to be – but he won't. There will be time for that later. For now, it's much more interesting to take in Akechi as he is, so fiercely insistent on this view of himself, his world.
When he's finished speaking, Maruki lets the silence between them linger for a moment before he nods, a faint smile returning. ]
Ah. I see.
[ A little resigned, but mostly– respectful. He didn't honestly expect one conversation to change Akechi's mind, so there's no disappointment to be found. As much as he would like to wipe this immense pain off the pages of his history, give him the fresh start he so clearly deserves – he would like nothing more than that, really – it was never going to happen tonight. It very well still could in what little future they have left, he does believe that.
Because ultimately, it isn't up to Akechi, is it?
Extending the offer to Akechi to make the decision for himself is a courtesy. One he wishes with his entire heart that Akechi would accept – and more so than ever now that he knows just how cruel it is that Akechi's fate doesn't rest in his own hands. ]
We may disagree on– well, on just about everything! But I admire how strong you are in your convictions, Akechi-kun. I really do.
[ He doesn't expect Akechi to believe that. He clearly hasn't believed a word Maruki has said all night. But it is the truth.
One of his first meetings with Akira floats through his mind. How commendable it was that he could reckon his internal reality with the external one, and just how quickly that became apparent. That radical acceptance of his own circumstances, as terrible as they were. It seemed almost inconceivable that someone so young could have developed such an iron clad sense of self – but here it is again, playing out before him just the same.
The two of them, like faces on a card, mirrored in opposite directions but otherwise similar. He's certain beyond even the tiniest sliver of a shadow of a doubt now that they were not meant to be pitted against one another and separated by an unforgiving reality.
He nods again and hums a little noise of reaffirmation. ]
Mm. I'm starting to truly understand exactly why it is you're so important to him.
[ Though preternaturally skilled at keeping his composure, every tense twitch of Akechi's body language reads danger to Maruki. He knows he's on borrowed time. Continuing this conversation much longer would be unwise – and unfair to Akechi. He deserves to be able to unwind this evening, enjoy this place that he loves, and it's clear that he won't be able to do so with Maruki here.
So he finishes off what little is left of his drink, carbonation gone flat and warm, and sets it aside in a silent gesture of we'll be done here soon. ]
Edited (last edit i swear good lord. brain soup) 2024-04-26 05:06 (UTC)
what ryuji doesn't know is any persona can be a bike if u aren't A COWARD
['Ah. I see' isn't accompanied with a blooming sense of victory. An argument won for the moment, but not due to his own vicious words - Maruki is pulling back out of his own volition, without a fight. A battle ongoing in his relent and Akechi willing to bite until there's nothing left of Maruki. He got him once - twice isn't a stretch, now that he has a starting point.
But making him give up-
Is no longer a priority. He's counting on a powerful foe's pride to keep their own status quo. It would be too anticlimactic to have his corpse drug from the ashes of a forgotten palace only to disappear peacefully after a conversation in a dimly lit club. After a life of battle, the end should mirror the story and-
Time spent traveling with Akira - a rival with a tenacious spirit and a consistent, assured strength in every brutal victory-
Time with Yoshizawa, who is still in this man's thrall-
Both who accept Akechi Goro without batting an eye, with only some offhand comments that hold no bitterness and animosity. In another world, this whole experience would have been enjoyable.
He doesn't think about it. Ignores it. Pushes it back down because the dead are irrelevant and he wants nothing. Dreams of wrapping his fingers around Shido's throat don't even occur anymore. There's no wish to exploit.
What he does think about is how Maruki speaks - confident and genuine over Akechi's vocal discontent. A comment that mimics praise in a way that flutters through his body accompanied with a wave of disgust. There are no favors gained from that anymore.
But he says you're so important to him with a glass pushed to the side. It does something to him - a bizarre, unplaceable emotion. One that forces him to stare down the condensation running down his glass, the toppings melting into an untouched drink into an array of muted purple tones. He can't think about it.]
You don't know anything about it. If he finds value in the person who shot him in the head, then he's an idiot. If you're trying to find blackmail, do it with one of his little sycophants instead. I'm sure you have a list handy.
[ Are you sure you don't wish for anything, Akechi :)
Are you suuuuure your heart's desire isn't just a nice companionate chess match by a sunny window in Leblanc :))))
Maruki lets out a little laugh before he can catch himself, then waves an apologetic hand. ]
I'm sorry, I wasn't laughing at you. It's only that– the circumstances are sort of funny, when you put it that way.
[ Especially funny because Maruki was the one to say they should set Akira to the side for the evening. Difficult at best, when he's the lynchpin for his plan and the thorn in his side all at once – so now the topic circles cleanly back around to him, and it's Maruki who pushes it further along.
He takes his glasses off to clean them against his sweater as he speaks, as quietly assured as he's been all evening. ]
He's a difficult person to read, don't you think? We had so many conversations last year, and every time I walked away thinking to myself, hmm, I barely know any more about him than I did before and now he knows practically everything about me! He has a way of getting people to open up. He'd make a great counselor.
[ He replaces the glasses on his face, blinks into his sharpened vision and turns his attention fully back toward Akechi. HIs drink untouched, his shoulders tense, fierce conviction still coming off him in waves so strong they could strip the paint off the shimmering cognitive edges of this reality. ]
You don't have to talk to most people for very long to find out what they want. It's not selfish, it's just human nature. It was easy to know how to make Takamaki-san and Sakamoto-kun and all the others happy. They telegraphed it right away. But Kurusu-kun…
[ A huff of breath, a shake of his head. Fondly exasperated and admiring at the same time. ]
All that time and he never even hinted at what he wanted. He was always so focused on the people around him. I wonder if it's easier for him that way. Sometimes, when you're used to life treating you poorly, it's more hurtful to let yourself think about what you wish you could have instead.
[ HINT HINT MOTHERFUCKER HE SEES YOU ]
But I digress. I just found it funny – you say that I don't know anything about it, when I had to dig so much deeper into his mind than any of the others to be able to give him what he wants. I think I know quite a bit about what value he finds in you.
[ Of course, he didn't expect what Akira wanted to be someone just as stubbornly defiant as him, giving him double the manpower right away to resist this reality– but that's his own failure of imagination. He couldn't have known how alike they are before he saw them in action. ]
Edited (you ever leave off an entire paragraph like an idiot) 2024-04-27 01:17 (UTC)
just vibe on the tentacles, use them at the store 2 carry ur heavy bags
[A laugh, a barrage of words, a fondness and affection over the unsurprising topic.
A memory come to light in the form of late night calls - a question of why passing his lips after truths flowed through them all afternoon. Unprompted yearnings to speak and watch eyes affix to him, even through the mask of fake glasses. It doesn't shock him more people wondered why. There was a point where he told himself it was for the plan, that it didn't matter with his imminent death and-
He doesn't know what it was now. A confessional in human form and even false idols can't hone in on that ability. It's among the many reasons he's special. Annoying. Irritating. How many shades of gold can be layered over him before it curdles into itself. Turns to rust, rot and muck.
Caustic and scathing - Akechi's own pursed, furrowed brow expression lands on Maruki somewhere around life treating you poorly to value he finds in you.
Why should he give a single shit about that?
A thought turned blade slicing through his mind - the death of a weak willed shadow under his feet. Air returns. Thoughts return. Logic returns. A manipulation tactic warped and weaponized. He would never fall for it - wants to tell Maruki we're done, but-
That's winning. Exploitable. Another taunt dangled above him by those more powerful, in the hopes of watching him jump.
It takes a second to realize he's not breathing again. Another one to fix that. A second to readjust his body to show feigned neutrality. Disinterest. Tension impossible to remove when wound up, but he rests his hands, folded and neat, on the tabletop.
Maruki will regret coming here tonight. We're done swallowed down. Barbs and thorns ready to take their place. A mask from a prince's facade, taped and plastered up with a tone almost cloying.]
I don't care what he thinks or about the sentimental shit you found. Imagine being so desperate to have people approve of you, to adore you, to worship you, that you invade every part of their life under the guise of helping. All you want is your own ego satisfied. [Tone falls - taped up. Expression twisted - taped up.] Are those that do 'good deeds' for their own benefit truly good at all? In fact, I would argue those actions are far too cruel to be considered even remotely benevolent. You pry because your pathetic life is filled with nothing-
[He doesn't know a lot. Research. Lost funding. Shido. But it's a baseless attack, slashing against air until a weakness is hit and its form writhing around a blade's tip.]
I'll kill your golden boy too, for the record. It wouldn't be the first time, or the second for that matter. You set him up for hell should he ever falter to you.
[Nausea. Headache. A memory crimson drip, drip, dripping on a tabletop. Pounding, pounding, pounding and he's dizzy, in that moment, in that memory, in that sensation of heart pounding adrenaline, viscera stained on the ground like ink blotted paintings and-
Staring down, staring down, Loki's thrall a blessing when he was staring down, staring everyone down, and a gun to the head again, maybe, Akira's and then his own and-]
I'll make sure you're forced to watch it, if that happens.
[ When Mementos fuses with this world, there will be no more need for him.
It's understandable why Akechi views his motives as purely selfish. Surely there are many people who would. Maruki isn't about to argue with him on it. No good can come of that, not with someone whose heels are permanently dug in – and anyway, in the end it won't matter. Whether Akechi and Akira see him as saint or sinner, he'll be wiped clean from their minds either way.
Adoration, worship – those have never been Maruki's goals. He knows his purpose in this world, and it's not to be revered. When humanity's pains dissipate into the ether and everyone is free to live their dreams as they deserve, they won't thank him for it. They won't praise his name – they won't even know it. If his role is to take on the suffering of the world, but the world he creates in its place is one where suffering never existed at all, where does that leave him? It's a nice little loophole, a clean escape.
In no time at all, everyone will wake up on a clear morning to a life that has always brought them joy, peace, love, security – everything they've ever wanted. And that will be enough for him. He will still exist, still be able to walk among them as just another friendly stranger, but his purpose will be fulfilled. Then there's only nothing, bright and brilliant and painless nothing.
Maruki watches Akechi railing on in that sugary-sick tone and feels only an immense swell of pity. A boy who has only ever known himself in terms of what use others can wring out of him can't possibly understand someone acting selflessly for him. He doesn't see it here, and he doesn't see it with Akira. Not yet, at any rate.
There are so many things he could say. Would say, in another life, another world.
You bring up a valid point about good deeds. There's been a lot of research recently about how we view and judge prosocial behaviors. I think the term you kids use is– humble bragging? That's an extreme example, but the phenomenon of a good deed's shine wearing off if it's witnessed is very real. I could recommend some papers you might find interesting, we could discuss them–
or: Desperation to be needed and loved… let's talk about that. Isn't that human nature too? Extrinsic motivation isn't a bad thing at all, if it's used properly. You work hard training as an athlete so you can win a prize. You put in extra hours at work to be recognized and praised by your boss. You do random acts of kindness for others because you want to be seen as a good, caring person. All of that is normal. It can become unhealthy, of course… I'm sure we've both experienced what it's like to bend and twist ourselves into the shape we think someone wants only to be rejected. It can be easy to start to lose yourself if you only act in ways that you think will make others love you. Have you ever felt that way, Akechi-kun?
or: I can tell that you're lashing out just to try to hurt me. Let's take a few deep breaths together. There's nothing worse than cooling down and regretting that you said something you didn't mean. What reaction are you looking for when you start to attack me? Fear? Obedience? You seem willing to say or do anything to retain control. It's not an uncommon coping mechanism in someone who is used to being controlled themselves. I don't think you've enjoyed much freedom in your life, have you? We could work on that, if you'd let me help you.
In the world that is about to be born, there will be no need for conversations like these. A distant part of his mind wishes he could have had them sooner with Akechi.
Instead, he holds Akechi's dark gaze and says the only thing that needs to be said. ]
No, you won't.
[ Simple, decisive. Non-judgmental, even as he's threatening one of the most important people in Maruki's life. It's empty and Maruki knows it, so it isn't worth worrying over. Okumura or Isshiki, maybe – those are targets he does genuinely feel the need to watch out for. But Akira?
He shakes his head, gives him a smile sadder than any other that's crossed his face all evening. ]
I know that you wouldn't do that.
[ Akechi won't say they're done, but Maruki has no problem saying it himself. It is not a concession of defeat for him. He stands, pulls on the coat slung over the back of the chair, and looks to Akechi once more. ]
['You won't' this and 'you wouldn't' that - full of conviction that didn't exist when he threatened Okumura on a whim.
He hates Maruki and-
He hates Akira more.
An exploit in his own impervious armor laid bare in those statements and the non-existent retort that refuses to raise through his throat. It lingers in his chest, brimming and ready to be unleashed, but-
He doesn't and it feels like a betrayal from his own mind and body. He won't try to kill Akira again - not willingly, for anything. An urge that never existed to begin with, but was vital. It's no longer vital. Akira won't waver - not for a moment. If he does, he'll beat the shit out of him until he gets back to normal because only a subterfuge of the mind from an enemy would make him relent. Belief in another is unnatural in his chest. He ignores it.]
The ninth.
[The syrupy feigned pleasantry melting back into a normal tone, a voice more natural on his lips these days. They'll be there, bright, early and with an assortment of goddamn bells on. Yoshizawa will be returned, Maruki defeated in full and reality will warp back to what it should be and for him-
This will be nothing more than a vision lost to a darkened void. Nothing to acknowledge, nothing to deal with. A finality he was prepared for.
And it's only when Maruki finally leaves his place that his shoulders unclench, tension soaking from body to chair in the way he leans back - the resounding vocals overriding any other thought in his head.
The drink is good too, actually - carbonation settling his stomach. A little too sweet, but tempered back enough to be enjoyable. A gift from Muhen, an attentive waitress, and not a twisted world created for convenience. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hello from the third semester where everything is great :) sometime between 1/2 and 1/9!
But he has left, on occasion. It isn't strictly necessary for his work – the monitoring room, in all its splendor, shows him everything he could possibly need to see. No, it's simply for pleasure. It's one thing to see the effects of altered cognitions from on high, but another to walk among them. He finds it deeply gratifying to wander through familiar streets and see how blissful life has become for so many. Families who can fully enjoy their time together, friends whose bonds are never strained or tested. People sharing good news, celebrating dream careers and graduations, weddings and retirements. His heart nearly bursts to see it: all those pains from their previous lives, large and small, swept aside so they can finally experience true contentment.
Tonight, for the first time, his meandering has purpose.
He's given Akira and Akechi one week to immerse themselves in this new reality and see how wonderful life could be. When it comes to Akira, he's less concerned. Throughout their many conversations, two things became clear to Maruki: there is no one more dedicated to their friends, and no one more steadfast in their own convictions than Akira. A fascinating dichotomy, a fascinating young man. Both possibilities seem equally likely – Akira could stand on his principles and reject this reality, or he could realize how much happier his friends are with their newfound freedom and choose to honor that. Maruki doesn't know what he will choose in the end, but he at least knows what the possibilities are, and he knows that there are ways to convince Akira that what he's done is right.
On the other hand, Goro Akechi is his blind spot.
That uncertainty is what compels him to leave Odaiba and make his way to Kichijoji, weaving his way through crowds of happy couples and groups of friends and tourists who never get lost. As he settles into a comfortable seat in Jazz Jin and orders a cocktail, he taps one foot to the music and keeps one eye on the door.
Akechi made his stance perfectly clear in the Palace. He'd referred to this perfect reality as brainwashing, called it revolting – Maruki hadn't expected such a visceral reaction. Still, Akechi's view of it is valid, in his own way. Maruki has no interest in forcing him to change his mind, and even less interest in fighting him.
But he can't accept that there is nothing that could be done to help Akechi see how beneficial this new world could be for him. Surely there's something. There must be some small part of Akechi that wanted a fresh start. There must be a way to show him that he deserves a life devoid of suffering, just as everyone else does. Maruki wants him to want this, too. It's only a matter of finding out how to get Akechi to let himself want it.
When Akechi enters, Maruki feigns surprise and smiles genially at him. ]
Akechi-kun! I didn't expect to see you here.
[ A white lie, harmless. Maruki waves him over and gestures to the empty seat next to him. ]
Why don't you join me? The singer tonight is wonderful.
everything is great :) happy : ) so good : )
Reality was wrong when he woke up. Confirmed true through investigation, alliances with rivals and dead turned living. People whose bodies wisped through his fingers, under his heel, standing tall in a world they don't belong in. The supposed culprit making himself known and the whirlwind of bullshit that followed was -
Exhausting in its tenacious hold. Maruki a puppet master under a new name, with a lofty goal held behind false altruism. Akira's resolve is strong. His own, untouchable. It's a matter of sifting through those who couldn't maintain their will. There are perks in gained arms and detriments in the time earning them. It leaves him restless - annoyed and tense when there's nothing to do outside of mindless research. Ammo from articles, books, notes - anything he could get his hands on.
But even that avenue is exhausted to its limit, much like his own patience and of all the worldly comforts he afford himself-
Jazz Jin was one. A place free of Shido's influence and a hole in the wall that fit neatly in spaces between two worlds. Muhen never asked too many questions and he was never asked to do more but sit. Listen. Be lulled into feigned peace from the soft edges of songs and dimmed lights.
It was his. Only his and now a disease has infiltrated his home. The man waving him over from a familiar table like they're passing acquaintances - comfortable and content.
Maruki's presence would've had less of an impact if he had been seated on his unused couch, holding a cup of expired instant coffee in the center of his apartment. The image is jarring - he was prepared for an infiltration, but not here.
Ramrod straight, he assess the sight before him from the doorway - momentarily blocking another person from coming in, who slides behind him with annoyance.
Akechi, for the briefest second, flits with the idea of finding Shido's old dealers in one of these dark alleyways and finishing this night with a bullet to the good doctor's skull.
But he doesn't. Continues to stand there for one, two, three seconds. This isn't an accident. Not a mistake. Maruki does not belong here and the frayed edges of reality seem more apparent than ever.]
Oh? Don't want to sit and wait in your ivory tower?
[Tense. On edge. Contorted and twisted - a tone barely held together. Muhen's gaze turning his way at the foreign sound out of Akechi's mouth and-
He moves to his table - Maruki plastered in Akira's common spot a factor he notes with great distaste as he seats himself. This is a place he refuses to be pushed out of. This is his.]
You and I both know this isn't an accident - don't insult me by acting like anything in your reality is mere coincidence. Spit out whatever you're here to say, but keep in mind I lack Kurusu's hesitation on how to deal with you and you're not safe simply because you left the Metaverse.
no subject
But he doesn't. He's all tightly corded tension as he crosses and seats himself, all acid when he speaks, but he's staying. That's a choice, a deliberate one. That's a good sign.
Maruki winces with a little laugh at the pinpoint accusation. ]
Guess it doesn't take a detective to see how bad of an actor I am, huh?
[ The threat boldly implicit in his words doesn't go unnoticed, and Maruki knows he's at a significant disadvantage here. He's never claimed to be a fighter or anything even close. Even in a perfect reality, sometimes he throws his back out just by sleeping wrong! It's a self-deprecating joke he'd make to one of the Shujin students to put them at ease, bring himself down to their level so they could speak casually to one another, but that clearly isn't the tack to take with Akechi.
He has no weapons on him, never has in his life. Not terribly skilled at throwing a punch or two without hurting himself just as much in the process, and not great at dodging or running away, either. Azathoth lingers in the back of his mind, somehow, but he can't summon shadows to fight for him here and hasn't had reason yet to try fighting for himself. There is so much about the other applications of this power that he doesn't understand just yet. He's easy prey outside the Metaverse, a sitting duck if Akechi decides he does want to deal with him.
So he holds up both hands in front of his chest and speaks honestly. ]
I have no fight with you, Akechi-kun. I mean that. I'm not here to force you to change your mind. That's never my intention.
[ Every word would drip sincerity if wrung out like a wet rag. Maruki has never known how to be anything but earnest, and hopefully Akechi can see that it isn't bullshit.
He drops his hands and folds them calmly on the table, smiles at the boy again. ]
Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to get to know you a little bit better? You're the only one of his friends that I never got the chance to meet.
[ Maybe friend isn't the right word. A detective and a phantom thief, diametrically opposed in a fated rivalry– but that isn't all that there is to it, right? What little he does know, he's gleaned from Akira's own experiences and cognitions. He'd like the opportunity to learn from Akechi himself.
Agency, choices. Maruki might be making the slow ascent to a sort of godhood, but even god provides free will. These things still matter. ]
no subject
[Instant and harsh, sharpened by a life spent acting to perfection and being thrown away because of it. No one wants to know Akechi Goro. He isn't interested in anyone trying. An image was all people wanted - one burned in a fiery explosion in the depths of a piece of shit's palace. Not even the ashes remain.
It's the other words that pique his interest - a curiosity from a past life and a desire to solve enough to keep him hanging on every putrid word. Every pathetic lie, despite the sincerity oozing. It's easy to fake in a normal world. He imagines that's child's play for a god to figure out tone and verbiage.
'I'm not here to force you to change your mind' is appeasement, but irrelevant. It won't happen and-
'You're the only one of his friends that I never got the chance to meet' elicits a bark of a laugh on the edge of frenzied and a hand presses into his forehead for the briefest moment.
This guy is an idiot. He doesn't know a goddamn thing and this is the person twisting, teasing, tearing apart reality. This is who managed to achieve the powers of a god.
He catches Muhen in his peripherals again and resituates himself in his chair, arms resting in his lap like normal and letting the soft voices around him soothe him like normal and keeps his eyes on a pseudo god invading his world like-
Not so normal. Not so easy to peel his eyes away from.
This is about getting intel from him to exploit Akira then - find out something about Akechi to wield against his golden idol, as if there's anything to be used. As if they aren't working together out of convenience and necessity. Akechi promised he wouldn't act rashly, alone or with a killer's intent in reference to this situation.
But Maruki came to him and he'll make him pay for it.]
Oh, but by all means - let's chat. In fact, I can tell you all you need to about me or rather-
[Saccharine and fake. Dangerous and unwieldy. A tone guarded and free all the same.]
I'm happy to provide that. I'm sure it will enlighten you greatly about my place in Kurusu's happy little world. After that, I suggest you leave and go hide in your goddamn palace until we come to end you.
no subject
Maruki weathers the barbed words coated in a sugary veneer well. He hasn't been delusional enough to believe that any conversation with Akechi would be easy; he expects nothing but verbal skewerings on his end and won't let it deter him.
When his brows knit together and the corners of his mouth turn down, it isn't because he takes any offense to what Akechi's implying about his motives. It's more to do with the growing clarity of the deep well of pain that Akechi draws from in his every movement, every word. It's one thing to have vague perceptions of his true nature outside of the media, informed only by what he's been able to skim off the surface of Akira's well-guarded mind. It's something else entirely to witness it in full color and motion, right in front of him.
There's a tugging, constricting feeling in his ribcage. Warm sympathy flooding his nerves. He can't imagine what could have happened to a person so young to make them think so little of themself. He's tried to help as best he can with what he knows, wiping Akechi's crimes from this reality's history – but it must run so much deeper than that. He could do more to give Akechi the life that he truly deserves, devoid of any suffering, if only he knew–
Maruki leans back in his seat, regards him contemplatively for a moment longer before he speaks. ]
I don't see you as a plaything for Kurusu-kun's world, you know.
[ There's no need to mince words. If anyone should happen to overhear and have cause for concern or confusion, he'll simply smooth it over later when he returns to the laboratory. ]
This fresh start is for you just as much as it is for him. And even if he wasn't involved, I would still think that you deserve it. So why don't we leave him out of this?
[ And then he smiles again, his serious tone sliding back into that of a friendly counselor. ]
Unless you want to talk about him, of course. I'm all ears for whatever's on your mind.
no subject
But he doesn't.
He sits, illuminated by it - a mockery of an ethereal glow. An image that nauseates him. Kurusu's name oil in a torch. It doesn't matter that he brought it up. Maruki downplaying the ultimate goal of the conversation is borderline insulting - of course Kurusu is the target. Leave him out of this as if every carefully chosen word won't be used against him in the future. A sentimental idiot whose capacity to care is a detriment - despicable and exploitable.]
Fine then. Only a plaything in your world.
[Instant. Quick. Sharp. Agreement doesn't matter when he already knows the intent. Maruki playing the part of a liar - an act that needs some work under the merciless rule of another. It makes sense he doesn't know how to twist truths effectively, when he's the thumb everyone's under.]
How magnanimous of a deity to forgive a murderer for all their crimes, for no reason at all. It makes me wonder how many others are running free right now, staining your perfect little world in blood.
[A blade pressed to his throat, a white hot muzzle against his skull, a tight wound noose around his neck - words can't match the effect, but he's making every attempt to do so.]
My, the fact I'm allowed to walk the same streets as Okumura and Isshiki shows so much disdain towards their children, I almost wonder if you hate them. I guess they didn't make the cut on your list of favorites. It's quite sad.
no subject
Maruki hums thoughtfully, rests a hand against his chin as he takes it in. The implication that he could ever hate Haru or Futaba, ever wish them ill enough will to hurt them by bringing Akechi into this reality alongside their parents, wrenches his heart further. It's incredible, really, just how backwards Akechi has all of this.
But he raises a good point, somewhere in that simmering, roiling mess of rage. Maruki mulls it over a moment longer before leaning forward again, picking up his drink to take a sip. ]
I think your viewpoint is fascinating. May I challenge it?
[ It's a rhetorical question. He sets the glass down, idly runs one finger in meaningless patterns through the condensation. ]
Do you believe that there's no substantial difference between someone who commits crimes with malicious intent and someone who is forced into criminal action by their circumstances? Both are causing pain for others, I won't argue with you on that, but only one of them is doing it purposefully.
[ Hypotheticals and thought experiments are all well and good, but he respects Akechi enough to be as direct as Akechi has been with him. ]
If it had ever been up to you, Akechi-kun, you wouldn't have even touched Okumura or Isshiki. I don't want to forgive your crimes. I want to give you a world where you were never forced into them. You didn't deserve that.
[ It's stated in a tone that is soft but plainly factual. This is the strongest pillar at the very foundation of Maruki's beliefs, of this reality. Akechi can rail against it if he'd like, if it makes him feel better to get it out of his system – it will take a lot more than that to break it down. ]
no subject
Maruki is challenging. No sense of ire or displeasure on his face as he sips at the drink - as if they're conversing over the weather, philosophy, gossip over a sudden change in lifelong news anchors. As if it's mundane, normal and wanted. He isn't taking the bait. A godhood perk, he images, but everyone has a limit.
He'll find it.
Akechi bristles - his own words used against him like a misplaced spell to a makarakarn shield. He's gone through a bizarre acceptance of Shido's manipulation over him, but that doesn't change a thing.]
It was up to me.
[Blunt. Icy. Decisive.]
And I made the decision to do it. The gun I held to the heads of others wasn't ever held to mine.
[Shido's cabal and cleaner aside, he could have stopped. Lied. Didn't need to end the lives of so many for a man he despised. Cognitive research wasn't far enough to prove otherwise. He may have found himself at the end of a bullet sooner, when his use wore out a few years earlier, but Akechi would've taken that man with him. He wasn't thinking - did what he was supposed to do, lapped up that false praise and accepted the a benevolent benefactor in sparsely decorated apartments and easily manipulated freedom.]
I was forced into nothing, so your argument is invalid. I could have lived my pathetic little life as other forgotten children do. A simple, quiet existence of being ignored by society. Many people do, easily, without staining their hands.
[The buzz of a lightbulb forces his eyes upwards - a soft calming hum in a dark room. A second to recalibrate and-]
Perhaps I'll do it after our meeting to prove a point. Maybe I'll go for Okumura first this time.
[A steady voice doesn't belie his bluff and he keeps his eyes on the humming, buzzing bulb until thin bright lines cover his vision. Maruki temporarily distorted out of his vision when he finally pulls his gaze down. A pleasant surprise that lasts only a few seconds.]
no subject
If Akechi's looking to draw a reaction out of him beyond friendly curiosity or placid concern, that'll do it. For a moment, Maruki's eyes widen behind his glasses and his hand stills. It isn't fear, necessarily – more the full body shock that would briefly paralyze you if you were walking down the street, turned the corner, and came face to face with a bull. The moment before it charges, before you run, when all your mind can supply as it tries to catch up to reality is this isn't supposed to be here.
In the back of his mind, Maruki does wonder what he would do if Akechi made good on that threat. Fix it, obviously. But would it even be permitted to happen? He can't imagine that it would. The idea that he has somehow managed to create this world of perfect contentment but left it open for such a simple destruction– he would never forgive himself.
No, he wouldn't allow it. He's always been opposed to any use of force, but perhaps there are exceptions after all.
When he speaks, his voice is steady. ]
I wouldn't suggest trying that.
[ There is no part of Maruki that believes a person as brilliant as Akechi genuinely wanted to commit those murders, or would genuinely want to again. The cognitive dissonance between how he speaks of himself and what Maruki knows to be true from being tapped into the pain of the collective unconscious is a great, gaping chasm. Too wide to build a bridge over at the moment. Regroup.
He sighs, runs a hand through the hair flopped gracelessly over his forehead – he's gotten so used to having it pushed away from his face in the Palace. When a waitress passes by, he smiles and gestures for another drink. They're ridiculous, purple and fizzy and far too sweet, but maybe it'll be more to Akechi's taste than his own. ]
Sorry, I should have offered earlier. It's on me, don't worry. Not that I think you would!
[ HE CAN JOKE ABOUT WHAT AN UNSETTLING KID YOU ARE, AKECHI. HE CAN LAUGH!!! SEE WE'RE HAVING FUN WE'RE LAUGHING oh god
Beyond the threat, something else Akechi said sticks in his mind. And he did say that he'd tell Maruki anything he wanted to know, so– ]
When you said 'forgotten children' – what did you mean by that?
tw: suicide mention, implied neglect/abuse
He notes it. Tucks it away as a potential last resort. A Hail Mary plan. The implicit warning in his response means he's onto something. There's not a single part of him interested in dirtying his hands with that rotten CEO or anyone else on Shido's previous hit list.
But, for fun, he'll take the opportunity to seek out Okumura tomorrow and play chicken on how much their boundaries can overlap, now that it's been spoken between them. It's research and something reportable now that all his current leads are dead. Akechi looks all too satisfied by his reaction and-
There's a drink in front of him now, ushered out by a waitress who knows his tastes as well as Kurusu does. The ratios are different than Maruki's own and the carbonation looks minimal in comparison. One he doesn't touch yet - not willing to give him the satisfaction of taking a handout.]
I wonder-
[One leg slides over the other - a comfort brewing in these minor moments that feel like winning. The buzz above him starts to fade, the singer's tenor takes over what that distracting hum leaves behind. He shared too much with Kurusu and wasn't sure how much their new puppet master gleaned. Not everything and-
What's left is his - dangling legs hovering over a tipped chair, visible only through a small crack in a door that never shut quite right and-
Blurred edges of homes that spoke with silence and fists, dirt and rot. It's his own. Protected. His mother is forgotten in a world full of wrongs - ease pulls back tension at the thought.]
You know, there are a great deal of people who are caretakers and parents simply for the accolades and money. Some even enjoy tormenting those weaker than them. In a perfect, ideal world twisted around those-
I wonder if your disgusting reality created a nightmare for a great deal of others. It's fascinating to think about how that's going to be accounted for.
[Said in a tone too light, too airy. Tension oozes out of his shoulders - a moment to relax against the chair's back.]
In fact, it's quite funny to think about who will gain priority and whose misery who be considered a necessity for the greater 'good' of society. I suppose some things never change.
akechi baby i am so sorry, you got him to villain monologue
Unwittingly, though, he's only furthering Maruki's belief that his criminal acts were no fault of his own. Sure, a gun was never held to Akechi's head as an ultimatum – but that doesn't mean he wasn't forced into a corner by a steadily snowballing series of circumstances. Even if it's true that he and he alone made the conscious decision to hurt, to maim, to murder– isn't that choice only the end result of a young life that's known nothing but pain?
Maruki doesn't need to know the specifics, from Akira's cognition or from Akechi himself. He knows enough now. ]
I'm well aware that the world is full of people like that. Maybe I haven't seen the same ugliness in my own life that you have in yours, but I hope you know that I haven't been blind to it either.
[ Shibusawa was entirely in the right when he suggested that Maruki reorient his career around counseling rather than research. With a wide open bleeding heart and endless patience to meet people where they're most comfortable, it was a natural fit. What he couldn't have predicted was how directly interfacing with people – young people at that, many who have suffered so much more than anyone ought to – would only make his desire to find a cure for emotional wounds more feverishly intense. Instead of gently drawing him away from his obsessive research, it rocketed him further into the gnarled, twisted heart of it.
If they met and had this same conversation any time before Christmas Eve, Maruki would be able to keep the conversation theoretical – segue into a discussion about an experiment, perhaps, or stick to open-ended questions to keep Akechi talking. But everything that has transpired since then – and especially since the dawning of this new year, this new life – has made him too shrewd for such an approach anymore.
He doesn't mirror Akechi's movement, relaxing back into the chair. He rests both elbows on the table, clasps his hands and speaks with a quiet, plaintive intensity. ]
If someone's ideal life meant inflicting pain on others, it would be in direct opposition to the world I'm creating. And that won't happen – I wouldn't allow it to. I mean that quite literally. Akechi-kun, don't you wonder what drives people to treat others so horribly? Is it part of their intrinsic nature? Something they're born with?
[ He closes his eyes for a moment, as if the mere idea causes him pain, and shakes his head. ]
I don't think so. Not at all. If someone enjoys tormenting those weaker than them, as you said, it must be because they've been tormented themselves. There are some pains that are too great to bear, so they pass that pain on to others. But if all pain is removed from the world, they would never have experienced whatever it was that made them act that way. That is what I'm aiming for. These imbalances you're speaking of for the good of society– they just won't exist.
[ And then a desperately hopeful smile, an offer extended. ]
You would never be hurt because the people who hurt you wouldn't have the desire to. Please, won't you let me give you that?
villains???? monologues????? to hell with THAT [will power plays in the distance]🎵🎶🎵🎶
To his credit, not a single word passes his lips during the exposition, not a single muscle twitches out of line. Every single word piercing in its intent. The geniality oozing, as if he means it. The false compassion from another egotistical maniac has a different background than the smoke filled walls of a politician's office, but the concept is the same - I know better, I am better and I will guide better.
A captain. A messiah. All coated in fool's gold.
A heavy exhale escapes him - releasing smoke from the fire in small doses. This place is his and he won't mar it with a violent reaction. With being kicked out. Even if Maruki warped it back to normal afterwards, Akechi would never return of his own volition in respect for the real wishes of the club owner.
In another time, this conversation would be enjoyable - he could see it, briefly. Bitterly. A back and forth over good and evil, thesis and antithesis, nature vs nurture and -
It annoys him to realize it. Makes him unloop his legs back. Puts him on guard with straightened posture and fingers clenching the edge of the table, as if that simple act will ground him.]
No, I will not turn into a puppet or become an Akechi Goro that isn't real. I refuse. My actions are mine. My life is mine. The consequences are mine to live with and I will do so until it's not possible.
[Arms cross and uncross. It's uncomfortable without the guise of the Metaverse coating him protective armor and masks - schooling his face takes effort. Keeping a steady tone is brutal. Cross and uncross. Table to lap. The fabric of his pants feeling the brunt of his intense grip.]
You're delusional in your intent. Even if a cycle of torment were to end on the surface, it will always remain within a person. You're arrogant if you think all human misery can be ended by removing what you perceive as pain. By pretending every bad person in the world is that way because of the people around them. In your world, you would find the truest, and most brutal, form of evil. Or so I would imagine, if you had any hope of succeeding.
[It's an interesting concept - one that won't be seen to fruition. If any other person were to utter this concept to him, at a point prior to his untimely death, he would have discussed it endlessly. Happily. Content in theoretical concepts and logical arguments.]
Even in a paradise, someone will always bite the apple. Your perfect world will never be a utopia and all you will have done is spit in the face of everyone you've warped to an image you deem acceptable.
is that a persona? no dude........ that's a bike
When he's finished speaking, Maruki lets the silence between them linger for a moment before he nods, a faint smile returning. ]
Ah. I see.
[ A little resigned, but mostly– respectful. He didn't honestly expect one conversation to change Akechi's mind, so there's no disappointment to be found. As much as he would like to wipe this immense pain off the pages of his history, give him the fresh start he so clearly deserves – he would like nothing more than that, really – it was never going to happen tonight. It very well still could in what little future they have left, he does believe that.
Because ultimately, it isn't up to Akechi, is it?
Extending the offer to Akechi to make the decision for himself is a courtesy. One he wishes with his entire heart that Akechi would accept – and more so than ever now that he knows just how cruel it is that Akechi's fate doesn't rest in his own hands. ]
We may disagree on– well, on just about everything! But I admire how strong you are in your convictions, Akechi-kun. I really do.
[ He doesn't expect Akechi to believe that. He clearly hasn't believed a word Maruki has said all night. But it is the truth.
One of his first meetings with Akira floats through his mind. How commendable it was that he could reckon his internal reality with the external one, and just how quickly that became apparent. That radical acceptance of his own circumstances, as terrible as they were. It seemed almost inconceivable that someone so young could have developed such an iron clad sense of self – but here it is again, playing out before him just the same.
The two of them, like faces on a card, mirrored in opposite directions but otherwise similar. He's certain beyond even the tiniest sliver of a shadow of a doubt now that they were not meant to be pitted against one another and separated by an unforgiving reality.
He nods again and hums a little noise of reaffirmation. ]
Mm. I'm starting to truly understand exactly why it is you're so important to him.
[ Though preternaturally skilled at keeping his composure, every tense twitch of Akechi's body language reads danger to Maruki. He knows he's on borrowed time. Continuing this conversation much longer would be unwise – and unfair to Akechi. He deserves to be able to unwind this evening, enjoy this place that he loves, and it's clear that he won't be able to do so with Maruki here.
So he finishes off what little is left of his drink, carbonation gone flat and warm, and sets it aside in a silent gesture of we'll be done here soon. ]
what ryuji doesn't know is any persona can be a bike if u aren't A COWARD
But making him give up-
Is no longer a priority. He's counting on a powerful foe's pride to keep their own status quo. It would be too anticlimactic to have his corpse drug from the ashes of a forgotten palace only to disappear peacefully after a conversation in a dimly lit club. After a life of battle, the end should mirror the story and-
Time spent traveling with Akira - a rival with a tenacious spirit and a consistent, assured strength in every brutal victory-
Time with Yoshizawa, who is still in this man's thrall-
Both who accept Akechi Goro without batting an eye, with only some offhand comments that hold no bitterness and animosity. In another world, this whole experience would have been enjoyable.
He doesn't think about it. Ignores it. Pushes it back down because the dead are irrelevant and he wants nothing. Dreams of wrapping his fingers around Shido's throat don't even occur anymore. There's no wish to exploit.
What he does think about is how Maruki speaks - confident and genuine over Akechi's vocal discontent. A comment that mimics praise in a way that flutters through his body accompanied with a wave of disgust. There are no favors gained from that anymore.
But he says you're so important to him with a glass pushed to the side. It does something to him - a bizarre, unplaceable emotion. One that forces him to stare down the condensation running down his glass, the toppings melting into an untouched drink into an array of muted purple tones. He can't think about it.]
You don't know anything about it. If he finds value in the person who shot him in the head, then he's an idiot. If you're trying to find blackmail, do it with one of his little sycophants instead. I'm sure you have a list handy.
riding on vohu manah's shoulders vroom vroom
Are you suuuuure your heart's desire isn't just a nice companionate chess match by a sunny window in Leblanc :))))
Maruki lets out a little laugh before he can catch himself, then waves an apologetic hand. ]
I'm sorry, I wasn't laughing at you. It's only that– the circumstances are sort of funny, when you put it that way.
[ Especially funny because Maruki was the one to say they should set Akira to the side for the evening. Difficult at best, when he's the lynchpin for his plan and the thorn in his side all at once – so now the topic circles cleanly back around to him, and it's Maruki who pushes it further along.
He takes his glasses off to clean them against his sweater as he speaks, as quietly assured as he's been all evening. ]
He's a difficult person to read, don't you think? We had so many conversations last year, and every time I walked away thinking to myself, hmm, I barely know any more about him than I did before and now he knows practically everything about me! He has a way of getting people to open up. He'd make a great counselor.
[ He replaces the glasses on his face, blinks into his sharpened vision and turns his attention fully back toward Akechi. HIs drink untouched, his shoulders tense, fierce conviction still coming off him in waves so strong they could strip the paint off the shimmering cognitive edges of this reality. ]
You don't have to talk to most people for very long to find out what they want. It's not selfish, it's just human nature. It was easy to know how to make Takamaki-san and Sakamoto-kun and all the others happy. They telegraphed it right away. But Kurusu-kun…
[ A huff of breath, a shake of his head. Fondly exasperated and admiring at the same time. ]
All that time and he never even hinted at what he wanted. He was always so focused on the people around him. I wonder if it's easier for him that way. Sometimes, when you're used to life treating you poorly, it's more hurtful to let yourself think about what you wish you could have instead.
[ HINT HINT MOTHERFUCKER HE SEES YOU ]
But I digress. I just found it funny – you say that I don't know anything about it, when I had to dig so much deeper into his mind than any of the others to be able to give him what he wants. I think I know quite a bit about what value he finds in you.
[ Of course, he didn't expect what Akira wanted to be someone just as stubbornly defiant as him, giving him double the manpower right away to resist this reality– but that's his own failure of imagination. He couldn't have known how alike they are before he saw them in action. ]
just vibe on the tentacles, use them at the store 2 carry ur heavy bags
A memory come to light in the form of late night calls - a question of why passing his lips after truths flowed through them all afternoon. Unprompted yearnings to speak and watch eyes affix to him, even through the mask of fake glasses. It doesn't shock him more people wondered why. There was a point where he told himself it was for the plan, that it didn't matter with his imminent death and-
He doesn't know what it was now. A confessional in human form and even false idols can't hone in on that ability. It's among the many reasons he's special. Annoying. Irritating. How many shades of gold can be layered over him before it curdles into itself. Turns to rust, rot and muck.
Caustic and scathing - Akechi's own pursed, furrowed brow expression lands on Maruki somewhere around life treating you poorly to value he finds in you.
Why should he give a single shit about that?
A thought turned blade slicing through his mind - the death of a weak willed shadow under his feet. Air returns. Thoughts return. Logic returns. A manipulation tactic warped and weaponized. He would never fall for it - wants to tell Maruki we're done, but-
That's winning. Exploitable. Another taunt dangled above him by those more powerful, in the hopes of watching him jump.
It takes a second to realize he's not breathing again. Another one to fix that. A second to readjust his body to show feigned neutrality. Disinterest. Tension impossible to remove when wound up, but he rests his hands, folded and neat, on the tabletop.
Maruki will regret coming here tonight. We're done swallowed down. Barbs and thorns ready to take their place. A mask from a prince's facade, taped and plastered up with a tone almost cloying.]
I don't care what he thinks or about the sentimental shit you found. Imagine being so desperate to have people approve of you, to adore you, to worship you, that you invade every part of their life under the guise of helping. All you want is your own ego satisfied. [Tone falls - taped up. Expression twisted - taped up.] Are those that do 'good deeds' for their own benefit truly good at all? In fact, I would argue those actions are far too cruel to be considered even remotely benevolent. You pry because your pathetic life is filled with nothing-
[He doesn't know a lot. Research. Lost funding. Shido. But it's a baseless attack, slashing against air until a weakness is hit and its form writhing around a blade's tip.]
I'll kill your golden boy too, for the record. It wouldn't be the first time, or the second for that matter. You set him up for hell should he ever falter to you.
[Nausea. Headache. A memory crimson drip, drip, dripping on a tabletop. Pounding, pounding, pounding and he's dizzy, in that moment, in that memory, in that sensation of heart pounding adrenaline, viscera stained on the ground like ink blotted paintings and-
Staring down, staring down, Loki's thrall a blessing when he was staring down, staring everyone down, and a gun to the head again, maybe, Akira's and then his own and-]
I'll make sure you're forced to watch it, if that happens.
no subject
It's understandable why Akechi views his motives as purely selfish. Surely there are many people who would. Maruki isn't about to argue with him on it. No good can come of that, not with someone whose heels are permanently dug in – and anyway, in the end it won't matter. Whether Akechi and Akira see him as saint or sinner, he'll be wiped clean from their minds either way.
Adoration, worship – those have never been Maruki's goals. He knows his purpose in this world, and it's not to be revered. When humanity's pains dissipate into the ether and everyone is free to live their dreams as they deserve, they won't thank him for it. They won't praise his name – they won't even know it. If his role is to take on the suffering of the world, but the world he creates in its place is one where suffering never existed at all, where does that leave him? It's a nice little loophole, a clean escape.
In no time at all, everyone will wake up on a clear morning to a life that has always brought them joy, peace, love, security – everything they've ever wanted. And that will be enough for him. He will still exist, still be able to walk among them as just another friendly stranger, but his purpose will be fulfilled. Then there's only nothing, bright and brilliant and painless nothing.
Maruki watches Akechi railing on in that sugary-sick tone and feels only an immense swell of pity. A boy who has only ever known himself in terms of what use others can wring out of him can't possibly understand someone acting selflessly for him. He doesn't see it here, and he doesn't see it with Akira. Not yet, at any rate.
There are so many things he could say. Would say, in another life, another world.
You bring up a valid point about good deeds. There's been a lot of research recently about how we view and judge prosocial behaviors. I think the term you kids use is– humble bragging? That's an extreme example, but the phenomenon of a good deed's shine wearing off if it's witnessed is very real. I could recommend some papers you might find interesting, we could discuss them–
or: Desperation to be needed and loved… let's talk about that. Isn't that human nature too? Extrinsic motivation isn't a bad thing at all, if it's used properly. You work hard training as an athlete so you can win a prize. You put in extra hours at work to be recognized and praised by your boss. You do random acts of kindness for others because you want to be seen as a good, caring person. All of that is normal. It can become unhealthy, of course… I'm sure we've both experienced what it's like to bend and twist ourselves into the shape we think someone wants only to be rejected. It can be easy to start to lose yourself if you only act in ways that you think will make others love you. Have you ever felt that way, Akechi-kun?
or: I can tell that you're lashing out just to try to hurt me. Let's take a few deep breaths together. There's nothing worse than cooling down and regretting that you said something you didn't mean. What reaction are you looking for when you start to attack me? Fear? Obedience? You seem willing to say or do anything to retain control. It's not an uncommon coping mechanism in someone who is used to being controlled themselves. I don't think you've enjoyed much freedom in your life, have you? We could work on that, if you'd let me help you.
In the world that is about to be born, there will be no need for conversations like these. A distant part of his mind wishes he could have had them sooner with Akechi.
Instead, he holds Akechi's dark gaze and says the only thing that needs to be said. ]
No, you won't.
[ Simple, decisive. Non-judgmental, even as he's threatening one of the most important people in Maruki's life. It's empty and Maruki knows it, so it isn't worth worrying over. Okumura or Isshiki, maybe – those are targets he does genuinely feel the need to watch out for. But Akira?
He shakes his head, gives him a smile sadder than any other that's crossed his face all evening. ]
I know that you wouldn't do that.
[ Akechi won't say they're done, but Maruki has no problem saying it himself. It is not a concession of defeat for him. He stands, pulls on the coat slung over the back of the chair, and looks to Akechi once more. ]
So, I'll see both of you on the ninth?
no subject
He hates Maruki and-
He hates Akira more.
An exploit in his own impervious armor laid bare in those statements and the non-existent retort that refuses to raise through his throat. It lingers in his chest, brimming and ready to be unleashed, but-
He doesn't and it feels like a betrayal from his own mind and body. He won't try to kill Akira again - not willingly, for anything. An urge that never existed to begin with, but was vital. It's no longer vital. Akira won't waver - not for a moment. If he does, he'll beat the shit out of him until he gets back to normal because only a subterfuge of the mind from an enemy would make him relent. Belief in another is unnatural in his chest. He ignores it.]
The ninth.
[The syrupy feigned pleasantry melting back into a normal tone, a voice more natural on his lips these days. They'll be there, bright, early and with an assortment of goddamn bells on. Yoshizawa will be returned, Maruki defeated in full and reality will warp back to what it should be and for him-
This will be nothing more than a vision lost to a darkened void. Nothing to acknowledge, nothing to deal with. A finality he was prepared for.
And it's only when Maruki finally leaves his place that his shoulders unclench, tension soaking from body to chair in the way he leans back - the resounding vocals overriding any other thought in his head.
The drink is good too, actually - carbonation settling his stomach. A little too sweet, but tempered back enough to be enjoyable. A gift from Muhen, an attentive waitress, and not a twisted world created for convenience. ]