Hamuko's drive was infectious for sure. On the first few months of his arrival the only thing that had driven him up a wall is to gain his memories back so he could realize his true potential. His goal to remove the very flaws that wrung their reality dry and seek the root of his memories. Ones that Azathoth had flashed in his mind- fuelling his drive to tear through the different levels of Mementos so that he could make it to the bottom floor.
Things had changed from then.
If he approached this correctly, he should be able to benefit from this whole ordeal. Even if it didn't serve in the end results of his research, Maruki would never deny the opportunity to learn about people's metaphorical hearts.
Though his expression falls a little from the mention of shooting. "I don't think that peashooter would even be able to make it to any of the shadows." Yes he was still sulking from the gun now residing in his pockets. If it wasn't there, its probably lost in his pants.
Still-! No time to argue. "Roger that, leader," he answers dutifully as he looks on ahead, his left pupil once again glowing as he casually holds his clipboard from the top and follows Hamuko's lead.
She was a ghost. Someone who had just fought through hell itself probably and yet she was here, standing tall- leading him. There was something deeply moving about it all and all Maruki felt was the punctuated weight of her sheer will. It was passionate.
And so damn intriguing.
Listen… To my voice My shouting, bellowing voice
Here I am Pouring my blood into my words Yelling at the very edge of the world
I am the little mermaid… Unable to return, the little mermaid… Fated to foam, the little mermaid…
"Fated to foam, huh?" he grimaces- quite sure Hamuko could hear that voice just as clearly as he did. "There's a degree of helplessness here that is reflected upon the entirety of this place."
"That could explain why we have the worst weapons and zero items to our disposal." This is quite literally a physical manifestation of depression.
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Things had changed from then.
If he approached this correctly, he should be able to benefit from this whole ordeal. Even if it didn't serve in the end results of his research, Maruki would never deny the opportunity to learn about people's metaphorical hearts.
Though his expression falls a little from the mention of shooting. "I don't think that peashooter would even be able to make it to any of the shadows." Yes he was still sulking from the gun now residing in his pockets. If it wasn't there, its probably lost in his pants.
Still-! No time to argue. "Roger that, leader," he answers dutifully as he looks on ahead, his left pupil once again glowing as he casually holds his clipboard from the top and follows Hamuko's lead.
She was a ghost. Someone who had just fought through hell itself probably and yet she was here, standing tall- leading him. There was something deeply moving about it all and all Maruki felt was the punctuated weight of her sheer will. It was passionate.
And so damn intriguing.
"Fated to foam, huh?" he grimaces- quite sure Hamuko could hear that voice just as clearly as he did. "There's a degree of helplessness here that is reflected upon the entirety of this place."
"That could explain why we have the worst weapons and zero items to our disposal." This is quite literally a physical manifestation of depression.