Maruki sat back deeper into the unseen void, the weight of Kou's words pressing down on him like a heavy fog. The all-seeing eyes that he couldn't even see- hovering above and beside him with pupils that dilated and pulsed as they followed each move the doctor committed. For once, he didn't respond immediately—his lips parted slightly, but the words failed to come. His gaze, still focused on the monitors, flickered with something unreadable. Frustration, perhaps, or maybe something closer to...
...Closer to regret.
He tried to speak, faltered, then let the silence stretch again.
“…Despicable,” he repeated softly, as if turning the word over in his mind. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but he caught himself before his expression could betray any real irritation. There was a stillness to him now, a sort of resignation that seeped into his posture. Let's say even if he didn't manifest the labyrinth- even if he simply gave the tape to Kou after being impaled by multiple arrows manifested with Almighty energy...who's to say that would have stopped Corvus to kill him anyway?
“You think I want this?” Maruki finally said, his voice low—so quiet it was almost swallowed by the groaning maze. He hesitated, fingers twitching faintly as they hovered near the controls before curling inward. “Do you think… I’m sitting here, orchestrating all of this for my own satisfaction? After months—months—of being left in the dark, not knowing what you’ve done, what you could have done…? What if what you’re doing right now—what you’ve already done—is just history repeating itself? Another cycle of destruction, another path paved with ruin, and you would never even know.”
“Tell me, Kou-san—can you tell me why I did what I did to you?” His tone hovered between challenge and plea, as if searching for something he couldn’t name. “Would you even bother to give me an answer?”
Another pause. This time, the faintest chuckle escaped him—not sharp or mocking, but brittle and worn, like a fraying thread.
“…You will make me regret it either way, won’t you?” he said softly, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His gaze—though Kou couldn’t see it directly—fell slightly, as if Maruki were speaking to himself rather than to the young man. “Even if I let you go now, even if I handed you that tape and opened every door… you’d still come back, wouldn’t you?”
The silence that followed wasn’t oppressive. It was mournful. Maruki’s fingers danced briefly on the air in front of him, like he was tracing something invisible.
A faint sigh escaped Maruki, his shoulders slumping as he finally sat up straight. His hands fell limp for a moment before curling into his lap. “There is no treatment,” he said plainly, the words carefully enunciated yet hollow in tone, as if he were admitting something dreadful. “Nothing is going to happen to you.”
Unless you force my hand.
It lingered there, a statement stripped bare of pretense.
The monitors reflected Kou’s relentless march forward, blade still ready, fury still unquenched. Maruki watched him quietly, perhaps waiting for some crack to appear—some flicker of hesitation in Kou’s eyes. But none came.
“Proceed,” Maruki murmured finally, resigned, as though he were surrendering to the inevitability of it all. He adjusted his glasses with a single deliberate motion, then gestured faintly at the screen. “The maze has manifested something for you. Just ahead.”
On the floor, illuminated by the faint, sickly light of the labyrinth, sat a pack of cigarettes.
Maruki’s expression remained neutral, but there was an unmistakable weight to his next words.
no subject
...Closer to regret.
He tried to speak, faltered, then let the silence stretch again.
“…Despicable,” he repeated softly, as if turning the word over in his mind. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but he caught himself before his expression could betray any real irritation. There was a stillness to him now, a sort of resignation that seeped into his posture. Let's say even if he didn't manifest the labyrinth- even if he simply gave the tape to Kou after being impaled by multiple arrows manifested with Almighty energy...who's to say that would have stopped Corvus to kill him anyway?
“You think I want this?” Maruki finally said, his voice low—so quiet it was almost swallowed by the groaning maze. He hesitated, fingers twitching faintly as they hovered near the controls before curling inward. “Do you think… I’m sitting here, orchestrating all of this for my own satisfaction? After months—months—of being left in the dark, not knowing what you’ve done, what you could have done…? What if what you’re doing right now—what you’ve already done—is just history repeating itself? Another cycle of destruction, another path paved with ruin, and you would never even know.”
“Tell me, Kou-san—can you tell me why I did what I did to you?” His tone hovered between challenge and plea, as if searching for something he couldn’t name. “Would you even bother to give me an answer?”
Another pause. This time, the faintest chuckle escaped him—not sharp or mocking, but brittle and worn, like a fraying thread.
“…You will make me regret it either way, won’t you?” he said softly, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His gaze—though Kou couldn’t see it directly—fell slightly, as if Maruki were speaking to himself rather than to the young man. “Even if I let you go now, even if I handed you that tape and opened every door… you’d still come back, wouldn’t you?”
The silence that followed wasn’t oppressive. It was mournful. Maruki’s fingers danced briefly on the air in front of him, like he was tracing something invisible.
A faint sigh escaped Maruki, his shoulders slumping as he finally sat up straight. His hands fell limp for a moment before curling into his lap. “There is no treatment,” he said plainly, the words carefully enunciated yet hollow in tone, as if he were admitting something dreadful. “Nothing is going to happen to you.”
Unless you force my hand.
It lingered there, a statement stripped bare of pretense.
The monitors reflected Kou’s relentless march forward, blade still ready, fury still unquenched. Maruki watched him quietly, perhaps waiting for some crack to appear—some flicker of hesitation in Kou’s eyes. But none came.
“Proceed,” Maruki murmured finally, resigned, as though he were surrendering to the inevitability of it all. He adjusted his glasses with a single deliberate motion, then gestured faintly at the screen. “The maze has manifested something for you. Just ahead.”
On the floor, illuminated by the faint, sickly light of the labyrinth, sat a pack of cigarettes.
Maruki’s expression remained neutral, but there was an unmistakable weight to his next words.
“Perhaps we’ll find your answers there.”