[ For that time when Akira speaks with his eyes shut tight, Maruki watches him closer than ever before. There's such a profound weigh of understanding to his words, empathy that can only come from someone else who knows what it's like to hold the fragile, wonderful cognition of someone in their hands.
That's the thing, though–
Akira's eyes open, train on his again, and Maruki nods. ]
It was, but... I didn't grasp the full scope of what I was doing.
[ Something that still stings in a particular way to admit, even now. If he'd known the cost, would he still have done it?
Maruki can't imagine any reality where the answer to that is no.
He inhales, deep, and tries to reason. ]
You have to understand... I was already deep into my research on cognitive psience. I had the hypothesis that it was possible to directly interact with a person's cognition, but I had no proof of that. No way of figuring out how.
[ An old, familiar pain radiates at the base of his skull, stretches up into his temples, down to wrap around his jaw. ]
I'd been getting terrible migraines all throughout my research. They came on again as Rumi was suffering in that hospital room, and when she told me she wanted to forget...
[ He trails off, throat constricting. He has to look away from Akira for a moment, gather himself up before tying the rotten bow on this story. ]
I heard Azathoth's voice in my head for the first time. [ I shall echo your blasphemous fury with reality so that we may change the world. ] I begged it to help me heal Rumi, and– it did. [ A beat. ] I did. [ Azathoth is strong because you are strong. Azathoth can rewrite a person's mind because Maruki can. ] She forgot anything terrible ever happened to her parents. She was free.
[ The smile he offers up to Akira is water thin, eyes a bit too telltale bright behind thick lenses. ]
Unfortunately... she also forgot me. Our life together. I lost her, just like that. [ Is he still smiling? Everything's gone numb. He can't feel his face, can't tell. The hands in his lap have unwound, clenched into tight fists in the fabric of his pants, and Maruki's not aware at all. ] She's not dead. I know I speak about her as if she is, but she's not. She's happy now. That's what matters. Isn't it?
[ It's a genuine question, plaintive and searching. Isn't it? ]
cw brainwashing..................................... sigh
That's the thing, though–
Akira's eyes open, train on his again, and Maruki nods. ]
It was, but... I didn't grasp the full scope of what I was doing.
[ Something that still stings in a particular way to admit, even now. If he'd known the cost, would he still have done it?
Maruki can't imagine any reality where the answer to that is no.
He inhales, deep, and tries to reason. ]
You have to understand... I was already deep into my research on cognitive psience. I had the hypothesis that it was possible to directly interact with a person's cognition, but I had no proof of that. No way of figuring out how.
[ An old, familiar pain radiates at the base of his skull, stretches up into his temples, down to wrap around his jaw. ]
I'd been getting terrible migraines all throughout my research. They came on again as Rumi was suffering in that hospital room, and when she told me she wanted to forget...
[ He trails off, throat constricting. He has to look away from Akira for a moment, gather himself up before tying the rotten bow on this story. ]
I heard Azathoth's voice in my head for the first time. [ I shall echo your blasphemous fury with reality so that we may change the world. ] I begged it to help me heal Rumi, and– it did. [ A beat. ] I did. [ Azathoth is strong because you are strong. Azathoth can rewrite a person's mind because Maruki can. ] She forgot anything terrible ever happened to her parents. She was free.
[ The smile he offers up to Akira is water thin, eyes a bit too telltale bright behind thick lenses. ]
Unfortunately... she also forgot me. Our life together. I lost her, just like that. [ Is he still smiling? Everything's gone numb. He can't feel his face, can't tell. The hands in his lap have unwound, clenched into tight fists in the fabric of his pants, and Maruki's not aware at all. ] She's not dead. I know I speak about her as if she is, but she's not. She's happy now. That's what matters. Isn't it?
[ It's a genuine question, plaintive and searching. Isn't it? ]