[ There's so much desperation into Maruki's gaze. He wants to believe Eren. More than anything, he wants to believe that there's any possibility of the Akira that he knows still being somewhere in the boy who's found himself here. Actualization can be broken, after all – in another life, another reality, Yoshizawa unchained herself and railed against him with all she had. It's possible...
But that's supposing that it is Maruki's fault. And that's his fear, yes, but there's another one competing with it. In many ways, it terrifies him more. ]
I know. [ Whispered, then stronger. ] No, I know... But it could also be that we really are from different realities. [ His stomach lurches; he's pale, clammy. ] So, if that's the case...
[ Maruki falls quiet, the words refusing to come forth, and then he laughs. Wet and choking and without a single hint of mirth. One hand slips up beneath his glasses, heel of his palm digging into his eye as another bark of a laugh escapes. ]
I don't understand. How could we have never met?
[ It feels impossible. It should be impossible. His guiding light. ]
[Because not everyone is as inevitable as Maruki and Eren. Because not everyone meets their best friend in every reality. Because Kurusu isn't a god, capable of skipping through timelines and warping the very fabric of reality however he so chooses. Because Kurusu is not Eren, and so he's not Maruki, and so, they can only ever be separate, when everything ends, when there's only a wretched place like this left.
[That being said...]
You're meeting now. You get it, don't you? Think about it.
Even if this Kurusu is from a reality where you never met, he found you here. You found each other.
You and I...it's different with us, but...
Hythlodaeus followed us here too. If two people are meant to meet - if you believe that like I do, like we've talked about, then...
[It makes sense. He isn't placating Maruki. He wouldn't.]
This is where the story starts. He still needed you. He found you.
[ If I won in a world without you in it, I'll never lose in one that has you.
This is where the story starts. He still needed you. He found you.
It hurts. Worse than spilling his heart out about Rumi on a couch in the farmhouse, on a darkened path through the woods, in a bathhouse, on a starlit cliff. Worse than having his back gouged by a fallen kaiju, or his throat collapsing as a rock beats down against it, or being impaled and shredded by Rashomon. It hurts, sudden and visceral and blinding.
Maruki yanks off his glasses, sets them down on the floor somewhere beside them. Covers both eyes now, palms digging in, fingers winding up into his hair and hanging on tight. There's a burning in his chest as his teeth grit tight enough to shatter, and he tries to breathe, because it does make sense. It does. It makes sense. Maruki knows it does. But– ]
I don't want this.
[ Small, wretched, miserably selfish. Maruki shakes his head, grinds his palms against the heat rising up behind his eyes, clutches at his head like he used to during the migraines that preceded Azathoth.
It's not strictly true. Of course he wants to start their story again. Of course he wants anything to do with Akira, even if it's painful. Of course he will.
But there's an irrational part of him that he never allows to surface. Always tempered, always logical, always setting aside his own emotions to do what's right. That part of him doesn't want to have to rebuild something that's supposed to be so foundational. It's hard, and it hurts, and he doesn't want to do something so hard, he doesn't want to hurt. He doesn't want to hurt.
Another shake of his head, another pitiful admission through a wet, choked-off voice. ]
[Maruki's misery is laid out so plainly in front of Eren, and it hurts.
[Maruki, ever strong, ever steady, crumbling on the dusty floor of a nigh-abandoned windmill with only Eren's body there to anchor him. Eren has never seen his friend in a state like this.
[He shifts closer, pulling Maruki close against his chest, cradling his head as if he were a child, pressing his nose into his hair.]
I know. [Whispered. Fingers trail over Maruki's spine.]
I know. [He hasn't experienced it himself. It's difficult to imagine, given that, but he tries - tries to think of how it would feel to see Armin walk through town, not a hint of recognition on his face as their eyes meet--
[Eren takes a long, deep breath. He breathes against Maruki. He breathes so he can feel it. He breathes so his friend can breathe too.]
I know. [What else can he say? He closes his eyes. He kisses the top of Maruki's head, gentle, lingering. It's what Eren's mother would do for him. It's what Maruki would do for Eren.
[He rests his cheek there afterward, holding tight. Eren is not built to soothe, but he tries. He tries...]
[ It isn't a stretch to say this is one of the most phenomenal kindnesses Maruki has been shown in his life, in any reality. Eren holds him, lets him make himself as small and miserable as he feels, lets him repeat that selfish desire again and again, quiet and muffled into his chest until he feels the salt sting of tears beginning to make his throat hoarse.
He goes quiet after a bit. Goes still, heartbeat hammering against his ribs, like a slowly calming prey animal that hasn't yet learned to trust. Breathes, matches his breath to Eren's. He's held. Eren has got him.
They stay like that for some time. Eren would be forgiven for thinking Maruki has worn out already, taken one hit too many and collapsed silently in on himself, held upright only by two strong arms. If the pain was too great for Maruki to speak another word for the rest of the day, he knows that he would be allowed that silence.
But that bottomless despondent pit in his soul wasn't what manifested his persona, neither as a voice in his head in a hospital room, nor as a wavering vision of its true form while the sky above Tokyo turned dark and crimson. Maruki lives in grief, spends every day mired in sorrow – but when the chips were down, it was rage that propelled him forward first. ]
I don't have anything.
[ Still quiet, still muffled into the fabric of Eren's shirt. But it strikes somewhere deep in his chest, steel against flint, and he finds himself sitting up. ]
In the true reality. I have nothing.
[ Somewhere in the very back of his mind, there is a memory of a memory of a memory, like fogged glass submerged in water: Broken and beaten, high above Odaiba, mask thrown away, letting years worth of pain bubble up and burst forth by screaming at the person he trusted most.
The parallels hit him first; the bitter irony hits him next. He's wanted Akira here for a thousand different reasons. Chief among them to ask him about that, on the off chance he came from that future of theirs – to be able to talk to someone who was there for him at the lowest moment that he's yet to experience, who saw him at his worst.
Akira has lived beyond that without ever living it. He'll never know.
And now it's Eren who faces him as he boils over. He's already helped Maruki kill every last one of his regrets. He shouldn't have to do this too.
And yet.
There's no self-pity in his words. Only frustration, pent up tight for years, exacerbated by being in this fucking place, coalescing rapidly into anger. Eren hasn't heard him like this. No one has. ]
I have no family. No friends. No colleagues. No future for my career. No purpose. Nothing. Whether my future is inevitable or not, I'll go back to nothing– you won't be there. Akechi will die. Rumi doesn't remember me.
[ His voice breaks on her name, but it doesn't stop the fury from steadily compounding with every word. Somewhere along the line, he's pushed himself far enough back to face Eren on the floor, no longer wrapped in his arms. One of his hands presses hard into the center of his own sternum. He can't feel it. ]
I threw it all away– for nothing. [ The word has ripped out of him more viciously with every repetition, and it's all bloodied barbs now. ] I thought– if nothing else, there'll always be Kurusu– but even that isn't guaranteed, is it? Is it!?
[ If there was more to come after that, neither of them will ever know. Coherency dies as his rage hits its zenith, and all at once, Maruki buries his head down into his hands, one palm half-clasped over his mouth as he cries out, a sob and a scream all at once.
[Eren knows rage. Maruki only needs to sit up and shift away for the scent to hit his nostrils like a shark smelling blood. It doesn't matter that he's never seen it before. It doesn't matter that it's shocking. It doesn't matter that it's Maruki, and that Maruki isn't meant to get upset - Maruki isn't meant to scream, and cry, and condemn, and hate, and feel, and be, but Eren doesn't shy away.
[No, Eren would never shy away. Would never look upon him with disgust, or surprise, or disappointment.
[No.
[No.
[Because Eren knows very well who Takuto Maruki is. Eren knows very well who they are. Eren knows that a man does not bring the world to a ruin of his vision without hatred and misery in his heart.
[Maruki's rage would shock a weaker person, a stupider person, a person more easily tricked, but not Eren.
[Not. Eren.
[These are two men who cannot hide from each other - foolish that Maruki ever tried; Eren forgives him. The man raises up across from Eren, and Eren shifts onto his knees in return, mirroring his friend's height as his voice raises, disturbing birds nesting in the rafters of the windmill.
[They face each other. Eren holds Maruki's gaze, eyes burning, alight with shared fire, all the same vitriol for the world that destroyed him.
[No family, because Eren's ripped them apart, left their bodies strewn, bloody, wherever he found them; they left Maruki alone.
[No friends, because Eren has ground them all up between his mollars, tongue salted with viscera; they left Maruki alone.
[No colleagues, because Eren has razed their offices to rubble, bodies crushed beneath it, limbs sticking out at all the wrong angles, no better than bugs; they left Maruki alone.
[No Akira Kurusu, because Eren
will not
allow Maruki
to be crushed
again.
[If he cannot destroy, he will stalk, and prowl, and watch, and wait...
[For as long as it takes.
Forever.
[In this reality
and all realities.
[Because Maruki is wrong. He doesn't have nothing. He doesn't have no one.
[Eren's voice rumbles out low and vicious, more beast than man.]
You have me.
[Maruki is silent, his cry still echoing in Eren's ears. Eren brings a hand to his face, tender, deadly.]
Don't. Forget.
There is one guarantee in this place, that place, any place. [He spits the words.]
I am your inevitability. I am your guarantee.
And I will not. Leave your side.
There is no Hell strong enough to keep me from you.
None. [A new echo off of the stone walls.]
You know me well, Maruki, but even if you don't know the full reach of my power. [A thumb strokes lovingly over his cheek.]
He stays quiet save for his hunched shoulders heaving with every gasping breath as his body catches up to the millions of miles his mind ran without it. Keeps his face in his hands, the feeling slowly returning as his blood reduces to a simmer. Shame and embarrassment rise up hot and sharp before anything else, but–
Even that is tempered, because Maruki is listening.
He understands how Eren could raze the world. When he first found out about it, he'd felt a lot – shock, terror, despair, an unmistakable curiosity to know more – but he'd never felt a spark of kinship. Not until now, the worst rot of his soul having been laid bare in front of Eren over and over again, accepted and reflected back to him tenfold.
And in the end, it's what he needs to hear. It's more than reassurance, and the words aren't empty. It's very nearly a vow.
A hand against his cheek. He still doesn't lift his head, not until that singular promise echoes, and when he does–
I'll rip apart every last reality there is.
Maruki doesn't doubt it. Not at all.
He exhales, shaking so hard that it catches in his chest. Swipes angrily at each teary eye with the back of his wrist, shaking his head. ]
I haven't forgotten. I won't...
[ He blinks, tries to clear the blurred fog from his eyes. Eren is still a little out of focus without his glasses, and he squints to try to sharpen it, feeling pathetic. Rage propels him when he needs it most, yes, but it also mellows back down into misery the moment the heat gets turned down. ]
[ It's stated as a simple fact. A confirmation more than anything. No resignation or despair in it – Maruki just wants to reaffirm what he already knows to be true. At times, that's more of a comfort than anything else. ]
He wants to fall backwards. Lay on this dusty floor, stare up at the rafters, and let the world go on without him for a moment.
It should start snowing in Somnius soon, shouldn't it? Time really is a funny thing...
Instead, he tips forward again. Rests himself back into his best friend's arms, head thunking down onto his shoulder, fingers scrabbling against his back to twist in the fabric of his coat. ]
I'm sorry. I know I don't have to apologize, just... let me.
[ Rage begets misery begets exhaustion. There's nothing left now, only emptiness. He could sleep for hours. Maybe he will, before he has to return home and face whatever there is to be faced. ]
[Eren doesn't acknowledge the apology. Maruki asks to be allowed it, so it's allowed, but that's all. Eren takes the man easily back into his arms. His heart still pounds against his chest, full of its own righteous rage, but he tempers it down. He can do that now.]
Just rest a while, now.
There's a space upstairs, when you can make it. [Pillows and blankets that Eren brought up for Aubrey either days, months, or years ago; they should still be there, unless someone else has taken them.]
[ Space upstairs– he doesn't even question it. Just nods. When he can make it. Eren isn't rushing him along; he never has. Maruki is allowed to simply be for the moment, and isn't that the greatest kindness of all?
It's quiet again, until it isn't. ]
He's the same as I remember him, though.
[ Soft, pained– but fond, undeniably so. ]
It isn't his fault. It's either my fault, or it's simply a matter of different realities messing with us. He's the same... That's a relief, at least.
[ Bless him, but he can find the silver lining in anything. ]
Everything I told you about him before is still true. I think you two would get along. I hope you get to know him too.
has a breakdown over a man and then being like "but he's so genuine" GIRL!!!
[Eren feels nothing but distaste at Maruki's pitiful endorsement. On some level, he must realize that he'd only say the same about Armin, were the situations reversed; then again, maybe he'd be angry. Maybe he'd be betrayed. Maybe he'd show some of that same rage that Maruki just showed him - Eren hates to know that it's pointed more at himself than anything, but, of course it is...
[He tries to force his voice into something even, but there's a definite edge to it. He keeps a tight hold of his friend.]
I won't interfere. [That's all he can promise right now, and he doesn't mean it one bit.]
[ Oh, Maruki hears that edge. It doesn't surprise him, either. He knows Eren like he knows his own soul. He knows how he feels about all the people who have hurt Eren, even if it was entirely unintentional on their part. They're the same, he knows...
It's not something he'll press. Eren can feel however he feels. It won't change the fact that he'll do anything to build a new relationship with this Akira. Eren's words from before still ring true: Akira found him here, so he must need him. No matter how painful it is for Maruki, maybe it was meant to happen this way for both of them.
It also won't change another, much more pertinent fact. Maruki doesn't know if it's something he needs to state outright, but–
It can't hurt.
He picks his head up, leans back enough to be able to look Eren in the eye again. ]
I want to say something important.
[ Before, he'd ask if that was okay, or tell Eren to please hear him. They're not things that need to be done anymore. ]
Even if we manage to become as close as we were back in my reality– or closer, even...
[ It feels impossible, but Maruki knows better than to bet against anything here. He and Akira will go through things that he never could have dreamed of back in Tokyo. Their relationship will be different, inevitably. Maybe stronger. Maybe not. He doesn't know. Either way, though– ]
You're important to me. More than anyone else. [ Words Eren has said to him, repeated firmly, with all the conviction he can grasp through his exhaustion. ] I've never had a friend like you in any reality. In every reality, even.
[ And despite everything that's transpired, despite that horrific well of rage and pain he's put on display for Eren now, despite how miserable the coming days and weeks and months will be as they're put through hell after hell–
Maruki smiles. It's nothing less than entirely genuine. ]
It's special. You are, I mean. Nothing will change that.
[Maruki's words are...disquieting, if only for the fact that Eren hadn't fully realized he needed to hear them. He has no reason to feel threatened - doesn't feel threatened when Jean is with Dolph, or when Aubrey and Akechi hang out alone (at least, not anymore). Jealousy is not a pretty or proud emotion, and certainly not one he wants to own up to.
[Maruki and Eren are impossibly close. They may as well be one person, split into two pillars. 'I've never had a friend like you in any reality. In every reality.'
[Eren feels the same. Even when it comes to Armin, the two can't truly compare; equally important, but so irreconcilably different.
[So, he gets it. But he still feels...
[Young. Lonely. A boy who had trouble making friends. He can't quite look at Maruki.
[And then he hears the word "special". He closes his eyes for a long moment.]
"Special"...
No. That's wrong...
[He opens his eyes.]
I remember what you told me about Kurusu. He's a special person. He's the type of person that might save the world, right?
I've known special people too. Someone like me, though...
[ Maruki's brows crease in brief, mild confusion – it's simply factual that they are both special, it's not as if normal people can manipulate reality at will – but then again, he gets it. Or he thinks he does, anyway. How many people has he told that he's a normal, regular man, even after they've seen what he can do? In the end, he wants to be treated the same as anyone else.
Still, though... ]
Whether or not either of us are special, you're still special to me. That's all I meant.
[ He thinks he should say something more, falters, squeezes one of Eren's arms instead. ]
[ It isn't the first time Eren has told him that. It is the first time since his return, though.
Quite honestly, Maruki never expected to hear it again, and he could live with that. It's the same as not needing to see Eren smile or laugh to know when he feels like he wants to – he's never doubted his friend's love for him. Not since the night they broke away from a festival to sit in a circle of flickering lantern light and share the greatest pains of this power; certainly not since Eren kept his promise and came back.
So to hear it now, of all times–
It's painful, isn't it? Like rubbing antiseptic into a wound. Healing as it hurts. It shouldn't be possible for Maruki to be loved without reservation or condition and not lose it in the end. It shouldn't have taken a false reality to prove otherwise. Yet here they are.
He won't lose Eren. He'll return to the true reality, he'll have nothing, but he still won't lose Eren. There's always the next life.
Maruki reaches out, pulls his best friend into him. Tucks his head against his chest, a mirror of what Eren did for him earlier. Hugs him tight, tighter. ]
I believe you.
[ Which is a bigger thing than he can put into words. He thinks Eren knows, though.
Face tucked down to bury into Eren's hair, muffled, quiet: ]
It's the same for me. I love you, exactly as you are.
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no subject
But that's supposing that it is Maruki's fault. And that's his fear, yes, but there's another one competing with it. In many ways, it terrifies him more. ]
I know. [ Whispered, then stronger. ] No, I know... But it could also be that we really are from different realities. [ His stomach lurches; he's pale, clammy. ] So, if that's the case...
[ Maruki falls quiet, the words refusing to come forth, and then he laughs. Wet and choking and without a single hint of mirth. One hand slips up beneath his glasses, heel of his palm digging into his eye as another bark of a laugh escapes. ]
I don't understand. How could we have never met?
[ It feels impossible. It should be impossible. His guiding light. ]
no subject
[That being said...]
You're meeting now. You get it, don't you? Think about it.
Even if this Kurusu is from a reality where you never met, he found you here. You found each other.
You and I...it's different with us, but...
Hythlodaeus followed us here too. If two people are meant to meet - if you believe that like I do, like we've talked about, then...
[It makes sense. He isn't placating Maruki. He wouldn't.]
This is where the story starts. He still needed you. He found you.
no subject
This is where the story starts. He still needed you. He found you.
It hurts. Worse than spilling his heart out about Rumi on a couch in the farmhouse, on a darkened path through the woods, in a bathhouse, on a starlit cliff. Worse than having his back gouged by a fallen kaiju, or his throat collapsing as a rock beats down against it, or being impaled and shredded by Rashomon. It hurts, sudden and visceral and blinding.
Maruki yanks off his glasses, sets them down on the floor somewhere beside them. Covers both eyes now, palms digging in, fingers winding up into his hair and hanging on tight. There's a burning in his chest as his teeth grit tight enough to shatter, and he tries to breathe, because it does make sense. It does. It makes sense. Maruki knows it does. But– ]
I don't want this.
[ Small, wretched, miserably selfish. Maruki shakes his head, grinds his palms against the heat rising up behind his eyes, clutches at his head like he used to during the migraines that preceded Azathoth.
It's not strictly true. Of course he wants to start their story again. Of course he wants anything to do with Akira, even if it's painful. Of course he will.
But there's an irrational part of him that he never allows to surface. Always tempered, always logical, always setting aside his own emotions to do what's right. That part of him doesn't want to have to rebuild something that's supposed to be so foundational. It's hard, and it hurts, and he doesn't want to do something so hard, he doesn't want to hurt. He doesn't want to hurt.
Another shake of his head, another pitiful admission through a wet, choked-off voice. ]
I don't want this. I want him here.
[ I want my friend. ]
no subject
[Maruki, ever strong, ever steady, crumbling on the dusty floor of a nigh-abandoned windmill with only Eren's body there to anchor him. Eren has never seen his friend in a state like this.
[He shifts closer, pulling Maruki close against his chest, cradling his head as if he were a child, pressing his nose into his hair.]
I know. [Whispered. Fingers trail over Maruki's spine.]
I know. [He hasn't experienced it himself. It's difficult to imagine, given that, but he tries - tries to think of how it would feel to see Armin walk through town, not a hint of recognition on his face as their eyes meet--
[Eren takes a long, deep breath. He breathes against Maruki. He breathes so he can feel it. He breathes so his friend can breathe too.]
I know. [What else can he say? He closes his eyes. He kisses the top of Maruki's head, gentle, lingering. It's what Eren's mother would do for him. It's what Maruki would do for Eren.
[He rests his cheek there afterward, holding tight. Eren is not built to soothe, but he tries. He tries...]
I'm here. I've got you, Maruki. I've got you.
no subject
He goes quiet after a bit. Goes still, heartbeat hammering against his ribs, like a slowly calming prey animal that hasn't yet learned to trust. Breathes, matches his breath to Eren's. He's held. Eren has got him.
They stay like that for some time. Eren would be forgiven for thinking Maruki has worn out already, taken one hit too many and collapsed silently in on himself, held upright only by two strong arms. If the pain was too great for Maruki to speak another word for the rest of the day, he knows that he would be allowed that silence.
But that bottomless despondent pit in his soul wasn't what manifested his persona, neither as a voice in his head in a hospital room, nor as a wavering vision of its true form while the sky above Tokyo turned dark and crimson. Maruki lives in grief, spends every day mired in sorrow – but when the chips were down, it was rage that propelled him forward first. ]
I don't have anything.
[ Still quiet, still muffled into the fabric of Eren's shirt. But it strikes somewhere deep in his chest, steel against flint, and he finds himself sitting up. ]
In the true reality. I have nothing.
[ Somewhere in the very back of his mind, there is a memory of a memory of a memory, like fogged glass submerged in water: Broken and beaten, high above Odaiba, mask thrown away, letting years worth of pain bubble up and burst forth by screaming at the person he trusted most.
The parallels hit him first; the bitter irony hits him next. He's wanted Akira here for a thousand different reasons. Chief among them to ask him about that, on the off chance he came from that future of theirs – to be able to talk to someone who was there for him at the lowest moment that he's yet to experience, who saw him at his worst.
Akira has lived beyond that without ever living it. He'll never know.
And now it's Eren who faces him as he boils over. He's already helped Maruki kill every last one of his regrets. He shouldn't have to do this too.
And yet.
There's no self-pity in his words. Only frustration, pent up tight for years, exacerbated by being in this fucking place, coalescing rapidly into anger. Eren hasn't heard him like this. No one has. ]
I have no family. No friends. No colleagues. No future for my career. No purpose. Nothing. Whether my future is inevitable or not, I'll go back to nothing– you won't be there. Akechi will die. Rumi doesn't remember me.
[ His voice breaks on her name, but it doesn't stop the fury from steadily compounding with every word. Somewhere along the line, he's pushed himself far enough back to face Eren on the floor, no longer wrapped in his arms. One of his hands presses hard into the center of his own sternum. He can't feel it. ]
I threw it all away– for nothing. [ The word has ripped out of him more viciously with every repetition, and it's all bloodied barbs now. ] I thought– if nothing else, there'll always be Kurusu– but even that isn't guaranteed, is it? Is it!?
[ If there was more to come after that, neither of them will ever know. Coherency dies as his rage hits its zenith, and all at once, Maruki buries his head down into his hands, one palm half-clasped over his mouth as he cries out, a sob and a scream all at once.
And then–
nothing. ]
1/2 this first now wait and suffer
2/3 I lied this too
3/3 and then future caitlin will go "comment chains only count as one comment when counting shards"
[No, Eren would never shy away. Would never look upon him with disgust, or surprise, or disappointment.
[No.
[No.
[Because Eren knows very well who Takuto Maruki is. Eren knows very well who they are. Eren knows that a man does not bring the world to a ruin of his vision without hatred and misery in his heart.
[Maruki's rage would shock a weaker person, a stupider person, a person more easily tricked, but not Eren.
[Not. Eren.
[These are two men who cannot hide from each other - foolish that Maruki ever tried; Eren forgives him. The man raises up across from Eren, and Eren shifts onto his knees in return, mirroring his friend's height as his voice raises, disturbing birds nesting in the rafters of the windmill.
[They face each other. Eren holds Maruki's gaze, eyes burning, alight with shared fire, all the same vitriol for the world that destroyed him.
[No family, because Eren's ripped them apart, left their bodies strewn, bloody, wherever he found them; they left Maruki alone.
[No friends, because Eren has ground them all up between his mollars, tongue salted with viscera; they left Maruki alone.
[No colleagues, because Eren has razed their offices to rubble, bodies crushed beneath it, limbs sticking out at all the wrong angles, no better than bugs; they left Maruki alone.
[No Akira Kurusu, because Eren
allow Maruki
crushed
again.
[If he cannot destroy, he will stalk, and prowl, and watch, and wait...
[For as long as it takes.
[In this reality
and all realities.
[Because Maruki is wrong. He doesn't have nothing. He doesn't have no one.
[Eren's voice rumbles out low and vicious, more beast than man.]
You have me.
[Maruki is silent, his cry still echoing in Eren's ears. Eren brings a hand to his face, tender, deadly.]
Don't. Forget.
There is one guarantee in this place, that place, any place. [He spits the words.]
I am your inevitability. I am your guarantee.
And I will not. Leave your side.
There is no Hell strong enough to keep me from you.
None. [A new echo off of the stone walls.]
You know me well, Maruki, but even if you don't know the full reach of my power. [A thumb strokes lovingly over his cheek.]
I'll rip apart every last reality there is.
no subject
He stays quiet save for his hunched shoulders heaving with every gasping breath as his body catches up to the millions of miles his mind ran without it. Keeps his face in his hands, the feeling slowly returning as his blood reduces to a simmer. Shame and embarrassment rise up hot and sharp before anything else, but–
Even that is tempered, because Maruki is listening.
He understands how Eren could raze the world. When he first found out about it, he'd felt a lot – shock, terror, despair, an unmistakable curiosity to know more – but he'd never felt a spark of kinship. Not until now, the worst rot of his soul having been laid bare in front of Eren over and over again, accepted and reflected back to him tenfold.
And in the end, it's what he needs to hear. It's more than reassurance, and the words aren't empty. It's very nearly a vow.
A hand against his cheek. He still doesn't lift his head, not until that singular promise echoes, and when he does–
I'll rip apart every last reality there is.
Maruki doesn't doubt it. Not at all.
He exhales, shaking so hard that it catches in his chest. Swipes angrily at each teary eye with the back of his wrist, shaking his head. ]
I haven't forgotten. I won't...
[ He blinks, tries to clear the blurred fog from his eyes. Eren is still a little out of focus without his glasses, and he squints to try to sharpen it, feeling pathetic. Rage propels him when he needs it most, yes, but it also mellows back down into misery the moment the heat gets turned down. ]
You're all I've got, then.
[ It's stated as a simple fact. A confirmation more than anything. No resignation or despair in it – Maruki just wants to reaffirm what he already knows to be true. At times, that's more of a comfort than anything else. ]
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[Despite it all - the pure, violent rage that, only moments ago, filled the windmill - his voice is soft.]
I'm all you've got. You're all I've got.
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He wants to fall backwards. Lay on this dusty floor, stare up at the rafters, and let the world go on without him for a moment.
It should start snowing in Somnius soon, shouldn't it? Time really is a funny thing...
Instead, he tips forward again. Rests himself back into his best friend's arms, head thunking down onto his shoulder, fingers scrabbling against his back to twist in the fabric of his coat. ]
I'm sorry. I know I don't have to apologize, just... let me.
[ Rage begets misery begets exhaustion. There's nothing left now, only emptiness. He could sleep for hours. Maybe he will, before he has to return home and face whatever there is to be faced. ]
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Just rest a while, now.
There's a space upstairs, when you can make it. [Pillows and blankets that Eren brought up for Aubrey either days, months, or years ago; they should still be there, unless someone else has taken them.]
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It's quiet again, until it isn't. ]
He's the same as I remember him, though.
[ Soft, pained– but fond, undeniably so. ]
It isn't his fault. It's either my fault, or it's simply a matter of different realities messing with us. He's the same... That's a relief, at least.
[ Bless him, but he can find the silver lining in anything. ]
Everything I told you about him before is still true. I think you two would get along. I hope you get to know him too.
has a breakdown over a man and then being like "but he's so genuine" GIRL!!!
[He tries to force his voice into something even, but there's a definite edge to it. He keeps a tight hold of his friend.]
I won't interfere. [That's all he can promise right now, and he doesn't mean it one bit.]
you just have to get to know him,,,
It's not something he'll press. Eren can feel however he feels. It won't change the fact that he'll do anything to build a new relationship with this Akira. Eren's words from before still ring true: Akira found him here, so he must need him. No matter how painful it is for Maruki, maybe it was meant to happen this way for both of them.
It also won't change another, much more pertinent fact. Maruki doesn't know if it's something he needs to state outright, but–
It can't hurt.
He picks his head up, leans back enough to be able to look Eren in the eye again. ]
I want to say something important.
[ Before, he'd ask if that was okay, or tell Eren to please hear him. They're not things that need to be done anymore. ]
Even if we manage to become as close as we were back in my reality– or closer, even...
[ It feels impossible, but Maruki knows better than to bet against anything here. He and Akira will go through things that he never could have dreamed of back in Tokyo. Their relationship will be different, inevitably. Maybe stronger. Maybe not. He doesn't know. Either way, though– ]
You're important to me. More than anyone else. [ Words Eren has said to him, repeated firmly, with all the conviction he can grasp through his exhaustion. ] I've never had a friend like you in any reality. In every reality, even.
[ And despite everything that's transpired, despite that horrific well of rage and pain he's put on display for Eren now, despite how miserable the coming days and weeks and months will be as they're put through hell after hell–
Maruki smiles. It's nothing less than entirely genuine. ]
It's special. You are, I mean. Nothing will change that.
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[Maruki and Eren are impossibly close. They may as well be one person, split into two pillars. 'I've never had a friend like you in any reality. In every reality.'
[Eren feels the same. Even when it comes to Armin, the two can't truly compare; equally important, but so irreconcilably different.
[So, he gets it. But he still feels...
[Young. Lonely. A boy who had trouble making friends. He can't quite look at Maruki.
[And then he hears the word "special". He closes his eyes for a long moment.]
"Special"...
No. That's wrong...
[He opens his eyes.]
I remember what you told me about Kurusu. He's a special person. He's the type of person that might save the world, right?
I've known special people too. Someone like me, though...
I'm not special at all. That's why...
[That power never should have been handed to him.
[He doesn't finish his thought.]
You are dear to me. Maruki. That's enough, so...
You don't have to be special either.
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Still, though... ]
Whether or not either of us are special, you're still special to me. That's all I meant.
[ He thinks he should say something more, falters, squeezes one of Eren's arms instead. ]
You're enough, too.
apropos of our conversation last night--
[All...Eren's thought about lately, with Maruki more than anyone, is his mother...
[Perhaps there are only two people who have ever truly loved Eren without condition. He grieves that. It feels...unfair.
[Who loves Maruki unconditionally?
[At least one person.]
I love you. Just like this.
pain.jpg
Quite honestly, Maruki never expected to hear it again, and he could live with that. It's the same as not needing to see Eren smile or laugh to know when he feels like he wants to – he's never doubted his friend's love for him. Not since the night they broke away from a festival to sit in a circle of flickering lantern light and share the greatest pains of this power; certainly not since Eren kept his promise and came back.
So to hear it now, of all times–
It's painful, isn't it? Like rubbing antiseptic into a wound. Healing as it hurts. It shouldn't be possible for Maruki to be loved without reservation or condition and not lose it in the end. It shouldn't have taken a false reality to prove otherwise. Yet here they are.
He won't lose Eren. He'll return to the true reality, he'll have nothing, but he still won't lose Eren. There's always the next life.
Maruki reaches out, pulls his best friend into him. Tucks his head against his chest, a mirror of what Eren did for him earlier. Hugs him tight, tighter. ]
I believe you.
[ Which is a bigger thing than he can put into words. He thinks Eren knows, though.
Face tucked down to bury into Eren's hair, muffled, quiet: ]
It's the same for me. I love you, exactly as you are.
[ Don't change. Don't leave. ]
WE CAN. WRAP HERE. IF YOU WANT....
[And it isn't a laugh.
[Because Eren doesn't laugh.
[But it is a breath.
[And it's fond.
['I believe you,' he says...
[Eren nods. His voice comes out tight.]
I believe you.