[ Something restless in the depths of Maruki's soul that he can't quite put a finger on settles. Reassured. Safe. It makes sense that Azathoth inspires those feelings in Akira when it's only ever showed up to protect him, when they're more aligned than ever before– yet a prickled nerve smooths out anyway to hear it.

There's an ache at his nape, a stabbing pain. It comes and goes, always has ever since he awoke in this reality, but it comes far more often than it goes these days. ]

I've never doubted that, Kurusu. You're my ally. I trust you– you and Arsène with my life.

[ He watches Akira begin to slowly circle him, and as much as he'd like to continue the conversation, the time for talking is through.

Maruki doesn't fight physically. Can't, really. Any time it comes down to that against Akechi, it means he's on the back foot being pushed toward a cliff's edge. If Akira lunges for him with whatever weapons are on his person, he can't fight back in kind–

So, perhaps it's playing dirty to try to take that option out at the top, but Maruki didn't learn to fight fair. ]

That doesn't mean I'll go easy on you tonight, though.

[ He braces himself, adrenaline surging as all at once, several tentacles rise up around Akira as if from the sand itself, clawed hands making a grab for him to restrain him as best they can. ]