The emptiness of the café is neither unexpected nor surprising, but it carries something Maruki hadn't anticipated. The usual urge to order coffee—a comforting ritual—fades quickly. The thought crosses his mind, half-serious, that Ren might have poisoned it. Or maybe just salted it out of spite.
Either way, no coffee today.
He steps further into the room, the warm smell of curry brushing past him like a distant memory, but the atmosphere feels colder than the winter air outside. He surveys Ren’s expression, the young man’s posture, the glint of suspicion in his eyes. No pretenses here. Ren isn’t masking his feelings, nor is he trying to play nice.
Believable. He respects it.
He exhales quietly and moves to take a seat as instructed, his demeanor shifting from cautious to composed in a heartbeat. There’s a faint, lingering smile on his face—not quite warm, but not hostile either. Calculated. Neutral. The kind of look one adopts when walking a razor-thin line that was drawn out of caution.
"So," Maruki begins, his tone calm but edged in a way as if he were proposing his thesis to the professors. His voice has a practiced rhythm to it like someone who once stood on a podium convincing others of the impossible—and did succeed. Alas, at the cost of everything else. “This is quite the situation, isn’t it? I can’t say I expected my... expertise to be sought out in matters such as this.”
He tilts his head slightly, studying Ren as if sizing him up—not as an opponent, but as a potential collaborator. “Which begs the question: I don't see you asking Phoenix to approach me...did he do it out of his own volition?"
no subject
Either way, no coffee today.
He steps further into the room, the warm smell of curry brushing past him like a distant memory, but the atmosphere feels colder than the winter air outside. He surveys Ren’s expression, the young man’s posture, the glint of suspicion in his eyes. No pretenses here. Ren isn’t masking his feelings, nor is he trying to play nice.
Believable. He respects it.
He exhales quietly and moves to take a seat as instructed, his demeanor shifting from cautious to composed in a heartbeat. There’s a faint, lingering smile on his face—not quite warm, but not hostile either. Calculated. Neutral. The kind of look one adopts when walking a razor-thin line that was drawn out of caution.
"So," Maruki begins, his tone calm but edged in a way as if he were proposing his thesis to the professors. His voice has a practiced rhythm to it like someone who once stood on a podium convincing others of the impossible—and did succeed. Alas, at the cost of everything else. “This is quite the situation, isn’t it? I can’t say I expected my... expertise to be sought out in matters such as this.”
He tilts his head slightly, studying Ren as if sizing him up—not as an opponent, but as a potential collaborator. “Which begs the question: I don't see you asking Phoenix to approach me...did he do it out of his own volition?"