Maruki listens intently, one hand gripping his chin with the clipboard now tucked underneath. His gaze shifts to the side, carefully adhering to the description she laid out about the rather...strange man. "I am really sorry to hear that," his eyes soften.
“Of course, my experiences weren’t anywhere near as harrowing as yours. But… I do understand the pain of being betrayed by someone you trusted.” His mind drifted briefly to his own past—his college professor, the mental shutdown cases, and how his research had been exploited by people with dark agendas. Even though he hadn’t physically taken part in those horrors, it still stung.
Ikutsuki’s actions, though, seemed like the stuff of dark fiction. A mentor posing as a guide, leading those who trusted him straight to doom. “He sounds like a rather despicable man,” Maruki said with a faint frown, his expression clouded. “All that effort—just to bring about the Fall? What a… dismal, meaningless cause.” Perhaps he misintepreted her or she still had reason to suspect him. Either way, Maruki didn't have any hidden agenda as melevolent like that.
He adjusts his glasses. They click on the bridge of his nose.
Still, the mention of Mitsuru Kirijo gnawed at the edges of his mind. He couldn’t say for sure who led the Kirijo Group in his own world—he had heard of her, but only vaguely, and many years ago. But Hamuko’s trust in her spoke volumes.
“I can’t say for certain where Kirijo-san stands in my world,” he admitted. “But if she’s as strong-minded as you say she is—carrying the weight of her family’s past while fighting to right those wrongs—then I believe she’s more than capable of steering the Kirijo Group down a better path.”
A faint smile touched his lips, lighter this time. “Honestly, I might refer to her for a citation if I ever make it back.”
That small levity didn’t last long.
Something shifted. The hairs on the back of Maruki’s neck prickled—a sudden, involuntary reaction, as though the air had changed. His breath hitched. He felt a strange pressure coil around him, like a low hum vibrating through his chest. Then, faintly…
1/2
“Of course, my experiences weren’t anywhere near as harrowing as yours. But… I do understand the pain of being betrayed by someone you trusted.” His mind drifted briefly to his own past—his college professor, the mental shutdown cases, and how his research had been exploited by people with dark agendas. Even though he hadn’t physically taken part in those horrors, it still stung.
Ikutsuki’s actions, though, seemed like the stuff of dark fiction. A mentor posing as a guide, leading those who trusted him straight to doom. “He sounds like a rather despicable man,” Maruki said with a faint frown, his expression clouded. “All that effort—just to bring about the Fall? What a… dismal, meaningless cause.” Perhaps he misintepreted her or she still had reason to suspect him. Either way, Maruki didn't have any hidden agenda as melevolent like that.
He adjusts his glasses. They click on the bridge of his nose.
Still, the mention of Mitsuru Kirijo gnawed at the edges of his mind. He couldn’t say for sure who led the Kirijo Group in his own world—he had heard of her, but only vaguely, and many years ago. But Hamuko’s trust in her spoke volumes.
“I can’t say for certain where Kirijo-san stands in my world,” he admitted. “But if she’s as strong-minded as you say she is—carrying the weight of her family’s past while fighting to right those wrongs—then I believe she’s more than capable of steering the Kirijo Group down a better path.”
A faint smile touched his lips, lighter this time. “Honestly, I might refer to her for a citation if I ever make it back.”
That small levity didn’t last long.
Something shifted. The hairs on the back of Maruki’s neck prickled—a sudden, involuntary reaction, as though the air had changed. His breath hitched. He felt a strange pressure coil around him, like a low hum vibrating through his chest. Then, faintly…