Maruki’s fingers stilled, hovering just above the unseen controls before curling into a fist. His brow furrowed, subtle irritation breaking through his carefully maintained composure. He stared hard at the monitors now, the reflection of Kou’s movements flickering across his glasses.
“God?” Maruki muttered to himself, a faint edge to his voice. “You think I see myself as a god?”
He let out a short, humorless laugh—thin and brittle, lacking warmth. “Do you even know what you’re saying?” Maruki shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as though trying to stave off a headache. “I rejected that, Corvus-san. The throne. The power offered to me. The chance to shape the world however I wanted. You think I would have put you here if I had that absolute control you speak of? What is it you are so scared of? Living a normal life with the people you love and cherish?"
"And as per mythology, no god ever gives the people what they want. Do you think they would have been gods in the first place?”
"My reality can be just the way you like. Let me guide you."
He stops, eyes shut close as he curls in on himself- eyes widening as flashes appear. Yet again. Memories flood in and he's grown almost quiet- trying to contain his own frustration, helplessness and the power trip that had nearly blurred out his vision. Azathoth pulsed within his veins as black lines outstretched on the skin under the white visage- an ugly green running its branches on pale skin. He remembers Ren rendering his arm broken- riddling it with bullets. He remembers the hate spiralling on the boards. He remembers Kou's words.
"Yes. You finally understand."
But then he remembers Azathoth and how he had guided him to the bottom of mementos. How it was coercing the doctor from the start to use the maze on Kou and now he was doing just that. Kou was in the very walls of Azathoth- exactly as the persona planned.
"..."
Maruki is yet to even leave his lab at this point- stuck thinking about the what ifs of what would have happened if he stepped further and took the metaphorical map that resided in his hand.
He could have even changed this hate spiralling around him.
His voice sharpened slightly, the calm veneer cracking. “And yet, here you are, throwing the same accusation at me as though it’s so simple. As though this—all of this—is about some petty desire for control. You don’t understand a thing.”
Maruki exhaled deeply, his tone softening, though the edge of his irritation remained. “I tried to help you. I tried to speak to you like a reasonable person. But clearly, that isn’t going to work. So let’s drop the pretense, shall we?” He leaned back, his posture loosening, a familiar, practiced look settling on his face—one Kou might recognize from therapists he’s encountered before. Calm. Patient. Infuriating. What? He knows very well how therapists actually act. Hell when Shibusawa suggested an online one all Maruki thought about was just how cold they always were. Pretending like it was so easy to-
1/2
“God?” Maruki muttered to himself, a faint edge to his voice. “You think I see myself as a god?”
He let out a short, humorless laugh—thin and brittle, lacking warmth. “Do you even know what you’re saying?” Maruki shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as though trying to stave off a headache. “I rejected that, Corvus-san. The throne. The power offered to me. The chance to shape the world however I wanted. You think I would have put you here if I had that absolute control you speak of? What is it you are so scared of? Living a normal life with the people you love and cherish?"
"And as per mythology, no god ever gives the people what they want. Do you think they would have been gods in the first place?”
"My reality can be just the way you like. Let me guide you."He stops, eyes shut close as he curls in on himself- eyes widening as flashes appear. Yet again. Memories flood in and he's grown almost quiet- trying to contain his own frustration, helplessness and the power trip that had nearly blurred out his vision. Azathoth pulsed within his veins as black lines outstretched on the skin under the white visage- an ugly green running its branches on pale skin.
He remembers Ren rendering his arm broken- riddling it with bullets.
He remembers the hate spiralling on the boards.
He remembers Kou's words.
But then he remembers Azathoth and how he had guided him to the bottom of mementos. How it was coercing the doctor from the start to use the maze on Kou and now he was doing just that. Kou was in the very walls of Azathoth- exactly as the persona planned.
"..."
Maruki is yet to even leave his lab at this point- stuck thinking about the what ifs of what would have happened if he stepped further and took the metaphorical map that resided in his hand.
He could have even changed this hate spiralling around him.
His voice sharpened slightly, the calm veneer cracking. “And yet, here you are, throwing the same accusation at me as though it’s so simple. As though this—all of this—is about some petty desire for control. You don’t understand a thing.”
Maruki exhaled deeply, his tone softening, though the edge of his irritation remained. “I tried to help you. I tried to speak to you like a reasonable person. But clearly, that isn’t going to work. So let’s drop the pretense, shall we?” He leaned back, his posture loosening, a familiar, practiced look settling on his face—one Kou might recognize from therapists he’s encountered before. Calm. Patient. Infuriating. What? He knows very well how therapists actually act. Hell when Shibusawa suggested an online one all Maruki thought about was just how cold they always were. Pretending like it was so easy to-