[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}
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. ]