[ For all of their Sameness, Maruki and Eren are not actually the same.
It's a stone he's turned over countless times in his own mind: If given the chance to change what happened to him, what happened to Rumi, to her family, he wouldn't. It's his greatest regret, the great loss that will haunt him across all realities, and there isn't a single thing he would do differently. Everything had to happen as it did to bring him to where he is now in his life, the gossamer thin veil shrouding reality from the collective unconscious a hair's breadth from his grasp. His goal may have changed, but his other self will always have the power of a god, and that isn't something he can ever lose.
But Maruki had no hand in those events. They happened to him, not because of him.
Learning that Eren was the one to set in motion not only the undoing of his reality, but of himself, of what– who he loved most–
It only makes sense, in the worst way. And it's something Maruki can never begin to understand, not really. Not in practice.
But he can accept. He can breathe, chest rising and falling deep and even where it's pressed against Eren's. He can wipe away hot tears and hold the gaze of the person he adores with every last scrap of his soul, not in spite of the horrible things Eren tells him, but because of them.
He can love. ]
I understand what you're saying now. [ Impossibly soft, unbearably gentle. ] You had to, no matter the consequences. You had to. But, Eren...
[ Maruki shifts to gather Eren up in his arms, pulls him in as close as they can get, holds him tight. Tighter. ]
Even if it was your fault. You're still allowed to hurt.
[ And then, through a kiss pressed to his forehead: ]
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It's a stone he's turned over countless times in his own mind: If given the chance to change what happened to him, what happened to Rumi, to her family, he wouldn't. It's his greatest regret, the great loss that will haunt him across all realities, and there isn't a single thing he would do differently. Everything had to happen as it did to bring him to where he is now in his life, the gossamer thin veil shrouding reality from the collective unconscious a hair's breadth from his grasp. His goal may have changed, but his other self will always have the power of a god, and that isn't something he can ever lose.
But Maruki had no hand in those events. They happened to him, not because of him.
Learning that Eren was the one to set in motion not only the undoing of his reality, but of himself, of what– who he loved most–
It only makes sense, in the worst way. And it's something Maruki can never begin to understand, not really. Not in practice.
But he can accept. He can breathe, chest rising and falling deep and even where it's pressed against Eren's. He can wipe away hot tears and hold the gaze of the person he adores with every last scrap of his soul, not in spite of the horrible things Eren tells him, but because of them.
He can love. ]
I understand what you're saying now. [ Impossibly soft, unbearably gentle. ] You had to, no matter the consequences. You had to. But, Eren...
[ Maruki shifts to gather Eren up in his arms, pulls him in as close as they can get, holds him tight. Tighter. ]
Even if it was your fault. You're still allowed to hurt.
[ And then, through a kiss pressed to his forehead: ]
You're still allowed to grieve.