If Kou weren't so wound up, he might've paused. He might've rolled his eyes, even, har dee har, showing the smoker a pack of cigarettes- or is it a metaphor for how he's slowly killing himself with his grief? How he's substituting Maruki's 'treatment' for something else that's 'worse' than his brainwashing, than his blatant disrespect for the dead?

As it stands, though, Kou only glares at the cigarettes, approaching it warily with his sword drawn, ready to defend himself. He doesn't trust this for shit- does Maruki think him stupid enough to fall for his traps?

"Any answers you're hoping to find," he sneers, "are not going to come from me."

(God, he craves a cigarette.)

His legs are trembling in a way he refuses to acknowledge as he slowly walks by, eyes not leaving the pack for even a moment. It's just an ordinary pack of cigarettes- his favorite brand, even, but with the way Maruki said that, there's clearly something else going on.

And he doesn't have to wait long for the other shoe to drop- as soon as he crosses an invisible boundary, the cigarettes ripple, the form changing-

Kou freezes, ever so briefly.

A gun sits in their place. But not just any gun.

That's the gun Goro and his cognitive versions were holding.

The gun that- that-

Kou twists his head away, letting out a low, angry (or is it despairing?) noise. His chest aches, remembering the faded scar Goro showed him, one that had healed for too quickly to be natured, one that should have killed, but Goro was alive- alive- except he wasn't, it was just his corpse, brought back by Maruki, remolded and reworked, ready to be used against-

"You've got some nerve." Kou grits his teeth. "Asking me for answers when you keep doing shit like this."

He forces himself to keep walking.