"I killed her myself. I think I have some idea, asshole. And I still don't have any empathy for you for doing what you did."
Maruki's pushes himself up, grasping the words his ears seemed to deduce through the haze of this madness that had only just begun to unfold before his eyes. “What the...you're," his lips quivered. "-you're serious." Despite how calmly he said those words, he might as well have spat them out, his voice raw and unsteady, every word dripping with disbelief. “You... you killed her? You killed your own sister?”
The words tasted bitter as he said them aloud, his chest heaving. He struggled to reconcile the image he had of Sumire—the gentle, kind-hearted girl he’d always known, who had already endured more than anyone her age should—with the cold-blooded murderer standing before him.
It didn’t make sense. It couldn’t.
...you're no better than some festering infection.
"She didn't understand what was happening, but the Shadow said some awful things, and she... lashed out, I suppose."
His breath hitched as the realization sank in. The codename on the board.
"Fawn, isn't it? That's you."
“You actually think that... that this is better?” he snarled, straightening up despite the throbbing pain. There was a sharpness in his voice now, one that wasn’t there before, cutting through the weight of his disbelief. “You think revenge and murder somehow make you... righteous? Like that’s some kind of better way to live? That’s rich. Really rich. I pity your lot.”
His lip curled slightly in disdain, but there was no satisfaction in it, only bitterness. “You people... you’re so blinded by your so-called justice that you can’t see how disgusting it all is. Trading one tragedy for another, thinking it’ll balance the scales." It makes him sick to the very core.
He let out a shaky breath, his glare faltering just slightly as something else pierced through his anger—concern. Genuine worry, despite everything. He hated it, but it was there, clawing at him from the edges of his thoughts.
"What do you mean help with her actualization?" he asked suddenly, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “What are you planning to do to Midnight? Hasn't she suffered enough from your judgement? At the hands of all of you?"
no subject
Maruki's pushes himself up, grasping the words his ears seemed to deduce through the haze of this madness that had only just begun to unfold before his eyes. “What the...you're," his lips quivered. "-you're serious." Despite how calmly he said those words, he might as well have spat them out, his voice raw and unsteady, every word dripping with disbelief. “You... you killed her? You killed your own sister?”
The words tasted bitter as he said them aloud, his chest heaving. He struggled to reconcile the image he had of Sumire—the gentle, kind-hearted girl he’d always known, who had already endured more than anyone her age should—with the cold-blooded murderer standing before him.
It didn’t make sense. It couldn’t.
...you're no better than some festering infection.
"She didn't understand what was happening, but the Shadow said some awful things, and she... lashed out, I suppose."
His breath hitched as the realization sank in. The codename on the board.
"Fawn, isn't it? That's you."
“You actually think that... that this is better?” he snarled, straightening up despite the throbbing pain. There was a sharpness in his voice now, one that wasn’t there before, cutting through the weight of his disbelief. “You think revenge and murder somehow make you... righteous? Like that’s some kind of better way to live? That’s rich. Really rich. I pity your lot.”
His lip curled slightly in disdain, but there was no satisfaction in it, only bitterness. “You people... you’re so blinded by your so-called justice that you can’t see how disgusting it all is. Trading one tragedy for another, thinking it’ll balance the scales." It makes him sick to the very core.
He let out a shaky breath, his glare faltering just slightly as something else pierced through his anger—concern. Genuine worry, despite everything. He hated it, but it was there, clawing at him from the edges of his thoughts.
"What do you mean help with her actualization?" he asked suddenly, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “What are you planning to do to Midnight? Hasn't she suffered enough from your judgement? At the hands of all of you?"