Thanatos laughing along with Hamuko like that...sure was a sight.
Maruki found himself staring at the two of them like a child frozen in front of a shark tank, watching as the massive creature glided just behind the glass. That was exactly how Thanatos felt to him right now—something vast, powerful, unquestionably dangerous, with Hamuko as the only fragile barrier keeping it from tearing through.
And yet, the way both of them laughed—soft, in sync, natural—put him at ease and terrified him in equal measure.
“I mean...I’ve had my fair share of unsettling conversations before.” His voice wavered slightly, but he tried for something lighthearted, even if his nerves betrayed him. “Granted, most of them didn’t revolve around death quite so literally—but they did make me question how people go about their lives after they leave my office."
His gaze flickered back to the coffins, then to Hamuko again.
“...Now I’m really concerned that if I do open one of these, you might have a, um—visceral reaction to it.” He let out a breath, rubbing at the back of his neck. “But I think… I sort of understand it. How death presides over you.”
A pause.
His brow furrowed slightly, his grip tightening over his clipboard as he hesitated before adding, quieter:
“And with you.”
Because that was what truly unsettled him. Not just that she carried Death, but that she carried it so easily. Like a constant companion, like something familiar.
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Maruki found himself staring at the two of them like a child frozen in front of a shark tank, watching as the massive creature glided just behind the glass. That was exactly how Thanatos felt to him right now—something vast, powerful, unquestionably dangerous, with Hamuko as the only fragile barrier keeping it from tearing through.
And yet, the way both of them laughed—soft, in sync, natural—put him at ease and terrified him in equal measure.
“I mean...I’ve had my fair share of unsettling conversations before.” His voice wavered slightly, but he tried for something lighthearted, even if his nerves betrayed him. “Granted, most of them didn’t revolve around death quite so literally—but they did make me question how people go about their lives after they leave my office."
His gaze flickered back to the coffins, then to Hamuko again.
“...Now I’m really concerned that if I do open one of these, you might have a, um—visceral reaction to it.” He let out a breath, rubbing at the back of his neck. “But I think… I sort of understand it. How death presides over you.”
A pause.
His brow furrowed slightly, his grip tightening over his clipboard as he hesitated before adding, quieter:
“And with you.”
Because that was what truly unsettled him. Not just that she carried Death, but that she carried it so easily. Like a constant companion, like something familiar.
Like it had never truly left her at all.