[ About an hour or so later, the cafe empties out and Haru locks the door behind the last patron. It's unusual for her to close early, but with both the date weighing heavily on her mind and Maruki's sudden reappearance...
It's for the best, really.
Haru brings over a mug for the both of them, unable to cover her surprise that he's still here. Another owlish blink and no, Maruki is present and accounted for.
He's not an illusion. ]
You're... [ Her heart swells in her chest. ] I'm so glad. I'm sorry if it's selfish to say, but... I'm really glad to see you again.
You've been here such a long time. I wouldn't have blamed you for feeling another way being brought back here.
[ They don't know what's become of Maruki Takuto or his life back in Tokyo, but it's his life and Haru couldn't fault him for being resentful or angry in any shape or form. ]
It was hard not worry, though. Like Neil-kun, there's no way to know if your friends are back where they belong or...
[ Well, she has to believe they found their way back home. ]
Akira-kun was pretty worried. I hope you've had a chance to let him know you're back.
[ Pretty worried is putting it mildly, and guilt gnaws at Maruki's bones, even if he's already begun patching up the catastrophic wounds he left behind.
A deep inhale, a slow exhale. One thing at a time. One apology at a time. ]
I did. I saw everyone at the machiya last night.
[ A beat, eyes cast down at the coffee in his cup, thoughtful – he still isn't how to approach this. ]
I failed to mention something that may occur when people disappear and return, which was an oversight on my part... but sometimes, even though they're only gone days or weeks here, they experience months or even years back home. One of the many ways time works strangely here...
[ Another beat, heavier, and he has to force himself to meet Haru's gaze again. ]
You were very kind not to tell me what would happen after the new year.
[ Maruki meets that uncertainty with steadfast, stalwart calm. He doesn't want Haru to fear him, doesn't want her to even feel nervous around him. It digs holes into his heart that she might. ]
I do. And it was March. I just saw Kurusu-kun off at the train station.
[ Anybody seen with them, especially Akira, would have been marked by the police most likely. There's no telling what the case is for him in her timeline, but the fact he went out of his way still speaks volumes for who he is.
[ Her smile falters, returning to March when she had first encountered Maruki and quickly learned he had no recollection of their third semester together.
It never felt quite right to keep such details from him, but it didn't seem fair to rob him of his future before living it himself.
Perhaps it had been unfair to not prepare him for the pain he would have to endure. ]
My apologies, Maruki-san. I didn't want to say anything, especially if it would change something in our world.
[ But to answer his question—
Her smile returns, this time, etched with deeper sympathies. ]
It may have been wrong to try and run away, but you weren't trying to hurt us. You're not like the adults we faced, like Shido or even my father.
[ Certainly not like Kamoshida or Madarame either. ]
You suffered like all of us and wanted to save everyone from that pain. I think I can understand that feeling.
[ You suffered like all of us presses into a deep bruise on his soul. Here, in this reality, he managed to come around to admitting that he suffered– back at home, though, seated across that table from Akira...
It felt impossible to confess to anyone, especially himself.
Knowing now how obvious it was to Haru and the rest of the Thieves, he feels terribly stupid for it. But there's such empathy inherent in it, too– you suffered like all of us, and just like that, Haru levels the playing ground between them. ]
You can? You were so steadfast in your resolve against it.
[ And as much as it broke his heart at the time, he does have to admire it now. ]
[ It's a simple statement from Maruki, not laced with judgment or bitterness for halting his vision for their reality. He had been so determined— relentless even. How many times did they face him and he still refused to yield?
She feels her heart skip a beat in her apprehension, though as she combs through her memory of their battle and watching Akira and Maruki face each other one last time, her heart quickly stops wavering. ]
Even if I understand it, to take away someone's choice is not something I could abide by. Everyone must be able to freely make decisions for themselves, in spite of that pain.
[ But... as much as they disagreed, there's a small part of her that feels oddly grateful in the end. ]
... that said, you did give me something I couldn't give myself at the time.
[ His own heart stutters in his chest at that admission. All at once, Maruki's mind races, tugging at strings and sliding pieces together, trying to guess what Haru could possibly be grateful for out of that whole ordeal.
He isn't aware of his own blind spots. He comes up empty handed after a few moments of blinking at her, and his confusion is entirely genuine. ]
[ A dull pressure blooms beneath her sternum. Not pain, not exactly, but an echo of it.
To have this conversation, on today of all days... her time so far in this world is a funny thing.
Her smile is tired, but grateful, eyes lost in a false memory that others would have seen as cruel, but it was a glimpse of something she had fought for once. ]
To have another day with Father... as the beloved parent I once remembered him as.
[ Her hands reach over her chest, curling into a fist over her hammering heart. ]
Even if it wasn't real, even if it was a wish that can't come true... for a moment, it was nice to have that time with him. [ A tear pricks at the corner of her eye. ] As strange as it sounds, thank you for giving me that chance.
[ He's so stunned, so bowled over by the tender vulnerability of this confession, the way it pulses and aches with grief – and he's watching Haru so intently throughout it, of course he catches sight of that single, shining tear. ]
Haru...
[ There's a moment of hesitation, always wary of overstepping a boundary–
But he turns over one of his hands on the table, holding it for her to take if she'd like. If not, he'll more than understand, and the gesture remains.
Maruki's voice is tight in his throat, the emotion straining like creaking floorboards. ]
I think, no matter what... I'll always regret putting you all through that. But knowing that it gave you some measure of peace...
[ It's all he wants. It's all he wants, even now, and even if it was temporary, the fact that it existed at all settles something in his heart. ]
I'm so glad. I still believe you deserve happiness, even in a painful world.
[ I still believe you deserve happiness, even in a painful world.
Maruki's words hang in the air for a fleeting moment, Haru letting it wash over her until she can feel the melancholy sinking into her, wrapping around her bones like an old, familiar friend.
Everything she and her friends had fought for was exactly what Maruki says: they all deserved their happiness despite all they had been forced to face. Haru reminds herself when she can how grateful she is to be where she is now, but today–
She cants her head to look at the photo behind the counter, all those smiling faces minus her father's more muted expression.
That horrid dream she had had recently, seeing his defeated gaze level with hers before he slipped from her again, his blood spilled over and over–
Haru looks back at Maruki, then down at the table where his hand has reached out. ]
Thank you, Maruki-san.
[ Her smaller hand slowly reaches out, taking Maruki's and gently clasping.
Her eyes redden slightly, a couple of tears trickling down her cheek now. Her chest feels caught in vice grip for a second or two, but the feeling is quick to pass and she feels light again, exhaling slowly. ]
We were resolute in our decision to accept that pain all over, but... having Father as the way he could have been again, I won't take it for granted either.
[ She doesn't know when the pain will lessen, especially today of all days, but it solidified her decision to change his heart. What could have been, even if it was not meant to be. ]
Those tears slip down her cheeks and Maruki unwraps his free hand from around his mug in favor of cradling Haru's in both of his own. A gentle, anchoring weight, holding her steady through this wave of fresh grief. He never meant to bring this on to her again. It seems like a wound he can't stop inadvertently tearing into, and he's desperate to make amends. ]
I'll accept your gratitude if you'll let me express my own to you, too.
[ Yes, it was Akira's hand around his wrist at the end of all things, but their leader didn't get to that point alone. It took all of them to reach Maruki, their combined will and might, and that's a debt he'll never be able to repay. ]
You helped to save me, no matter how hard I fought against it. I can't thank you enough.
[ In the depths of that sorrowful dream, she wouldn't even allow herself to take her father's hand one last time despite having to part once again without proper closure.
When Maruki's hands cradle her own, warmth permeating her palm and up into her wrist and her arm, she remembers she need not look far for a gentle hand. ]
I'm glad. [ She smiles finally, joy radiating behind those eyes. ] Welcome back, Maruki-san.
[ She keeps her hand where it lays on the table, under Maruki's bigger, but gentler ones. She uses her other free one to dab at her eyes, wiping tears away a bit bashfully. ]
I'm sorry for getting so emotional. Today is just... well.
[ With a shake of his head, fringe flopping across his glasses– ]
Please, don't apologize.
[ A light squeeze to her hands; he lets go with one so he can pick up his coffee again, but keeps the other there for as long as Haru wants, ever the gentle anchor. ]
Did something else happen today? I apologize, I only got back last night, so I'm still catching up...
[ It strikes Maruki like lightning to the chest. ]
A year... today is the anniversary?
[ If he sorts through the wreckage of his own memories right now, as swiftly as he can, it does make sense– he remembers watching the news cast himself, and the weather had been about to turn... ]
Haru...
[ To think, Haru confronted him on his own terrible anniversary, and he's returned to her on hers. Time and reality, ever serendipitous, even in the worst ways.
[ Her head swerves in Maruki's direction, a deep scarlet blooming across her face and reaching the tips of her ears. She's taken aback by such an offer- not offended at all, but simply surprised he would make such a kind offer in the first place. ]
A hug? I... oh.
[ She hadn't thought about it before.
All the condolences she had received leading up to the funeral, during it and after, were always courteous words. A handshake, a polite bow, sometimes a considerate pat on her shoulder.
Nobody had once comforted her with a hug, despite knowing she had lost the only family she had left in this world. ]
[ If there is one lesson Maruki has learned in this reality, there are hundreds, but chief among them is that simple, heartfelt gestures often do more for someone than hours of listening and gently talking them through their own pain could ever achieve. When Akira first appeared in the garden with no recollection of him, when he lost Omori, when he learned of Akechi's fate–
When he awoke alone in his apartment after Akira saved him from shattering along with his failed reality–
All he wanted was to be held.
He gets up from his seat, comes around to Haru's side of the table. Both arms stretch out before him, welcoming her to stand and let herself freefall into a safe embrace. ]
[ There's slight apprehension at first from Haru as she mulls over how time and time again her father had let her down. No apologies, no sincerity in his words and certainly no warm embrace to remind her of the love shared between them once.
Her body remembers all the wrong things first, yet misses the safety someone's arms provide.
As she rises and slips into a gentle embrace, the bustling of the street outside the cafe seems to fade into a muted hush and all she can hear is her own heart in her ribs.
All the handshakes, the little pats on her back and shoulders at the funeral, all meant to convey care rather than truly offer it.
And against Maruki, for the first time since Akira had pulled her into his own embrace upon her arrival, does she feel safe and cared for. ]
... thank you, Maruki-san.
[ She gives a gentle squeeze; maybe he needs this, too. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ The question hangs in the air, tinged with both uncertainty and concern; what did Maruki see? What did he learn?
The tension in her shoulders is hard to miss. For all Haru knows, Maruki might have been plucked from the worst possible point in the timeline.
But if that's the case, would he be here right now, trying to talk with her?
Haru shakes her head, collecting as many broken pieces as she can in her apron. ]
... I'm closing up the shop a bit early today, actually. Do you want to wait until then? Oh! And... you would like your usual, wouldn't you?
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[ Knowing his luck, he'll probably break or spill something else if he keeps hovering around her...
He finishes wiping up the spilled mess, goes to wring out and drape the rag over a sink in the back, then puts his hands up and backs away. ]
Come see me when you're done. I'll be by the window. I'm sorry again!
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It's for the best, really.
Haru brings over a mug for the both of them, unable to cover her surprise that he's still here. Another owlish blink and no, Maruki is present and accounted for.
He's not an illusion. ]
You're... [ Her heart swells in her chest. ] I'm so glad. I'm sorry if it's selfish to say, but... I'm really glad to see you again.
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Selfish? Haru...
[ His hands wrap around the mug as she takes the seat across from him, tenderness bleeding into the edges of his expression. ]
It isn't selfish at all. I'm glad to see you, too.
[ To know he was missed by the people he cares about is already a tremendous thing–
But to know he was missed by Haru, who's known all along exactly what he's capable of, is astonishing. ]
I'm sorry. I never meant to worry you or any of the others.
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[ They don't know what's become of Maruki Takuto or his life back in Tokyo, but it's his life and Haru couldn't fault him for being resentful or angry in any shape or form. ]
It was hard not worry, though. Like Neil-kun, there's no way to know if your friends are back where they belong or...
[ Well, she has to believe they found their way back home. ]
Akira-kun was pretty worried. I hope you've had a chance to let him know you're back.
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A deep inhale, a slow exhale. One thing at a time. One apology at a time. ]
I did. I saw everyone at the machiya last night.
[ A beat, eyes cast down at the coffee in his cup, thoughtful – he still isn't how to approach this. ]
I failed to mention something that may occur when people disappear and return, which was an oversight on my part... but sometimes, even though they're only gone days or weeks here, they experience months or even years back home. One of the many ways time works strangely here...
[ Another beat, heavier, and he has to force himself to meet Haru's gaze again. ]
You were very kind not to tell me what would happen after the new year.
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She stares back at him, brown orbs reflecting uncertainty again. ]
Oh.
[ There's no escaping it now. They're alone and she has nowhere else to go. ]
... do you remember everything? What month was it for you before you ended up back here?
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I do. And it was March. I just saw Kurusu-kun off at the train station.
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Her brows arch as it all begins to dawn on her. ]
You made sure he got there safely.
[ Anybody seen with them, especially Akira, would have been marked by the police most likely. There's no telling what the case is for him in her timeline, but the fact he went out of his way still speaks volumes for who he is.
Haru smiles. ]
What would you like to talk about?
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It takes a few stunned moments for the words to make it out of Maruki's mouth. ]
All that time we were together in this reality... you knew what I was going to do to you and your friends, and you never held it against me?
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It never felt quite right to keep such details from him, but it didn't seem fair to rob him of his future before living it himself.
Perhaps it had been unfair to not prepare him for the pain he would have to endure. ]
My apologies, Maruki-san. I didn't want to say anything, especially if it would change something in our world.
[ But to answer his question—
Her smile returns, this time, etched with deeper sympathies. ]
It may have been wrong to try and run away, but you weren't trying to hurt us. You're not like the adults we faced, like Shido or even my father.
[ Certainly not like Kamoshida or Madarame either. ]
You suffered like all of us and wanted to save everyone from that pain. I think I can understand that feeling.
no subject
It felt impossible to confess to anyone, especially himself.
Knowing now how obvious it was to Haru and the rest of the Thieves, he feels terribly stupid for it. But there's such empathy inherent in it, too– you suffered like all of us, and just like that, Haru levels the playing ground between them. ]
You can? You were so steadfast in your resolve against it.
[ And as much as it broke his heart at the time, he does have to admire it now. ]
no subject
She feels her heart skip a beat in her apprehension, though as she combs through her memory of their battle and watching Akira and Maruki face each other one last time, her heart quickly stops wavering. ]
Even if I understand it, to take away someone's choice is not something I could abide by. Everyone must be able to freely make decisions for themselves, in spite of that pain.
[ But... as much as they disagreed, there's a small part of her that feels oddly grateful in the end. ]
... that said, you did give me something I couldn't give myself at the time.
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He isn't aware of his own blind spots. He comes up empty handed after a few moments of blinking at her, and his confusion is entirely genuine. ]
What's that?
shuts eyes
To have this conversation, on today of all days... her time so far in this world is a funny thing.
Her smile is tired, but grateful, eyes lost in a false memory that others would have seen as cruel, but it was a glimpse of something she had fought for once. ]
To have another day with Father... as the beloved parent I once remembered him as.
[ Her hands reach over her chest, curling into a fist over her hammering heart. ]
Even if it wasn't real, even if it was a wish that can't come true... for a moment, it was nice to have that time with him. [ A tear pricks at the corner of her eye. ] As strange as it sounds, thank you for giving me that chance.
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Haru...
[ There's a moment of hesitation, always wary of overstepping a boundary–
But he turns over one of his hands on the table, holding it for her to take if she'd like. If not, he'll more than understand, and the gesture remains.
Maruki's voice is tight in his throat, the emotion straining like creaking floorboards. ]
I think, no matter what... I'll always regret putting you all through that. But knowing that it gave you some measure of peace...
[ It's all he wants. It's all he wants, even now, and even if it was temporary, the fact that it existed at all settles something in his heart. ]
I'm so glad. I still believe you deserve happiness, even in a painful world.
no subject
Maruki's words hang in the air for a fleeting moment, Haru letting it wash over her until she can feel the melancholy sinking into her, wrapping around her bones like an old, familiar friend.
Everything she and her friends had fought for was exactly what Maruki says: they all deserved their happiness despite all they had been forced to face. Haru reminds herself when she can how grateful she is to be where she is now, but today–
She cants her head to look at the photo behind the counter, all those smiling faces minus her father's more muted expression.
That horrid dream she had had recently, seeing his defeated gaze level with hers before he slipped from her again, his blood spilled over and over–
Haru looks back at Maruki, then down at the table where his hand has reached out. ]
Thank you, Maruki-san.
[ Her smaller hand slowly reaches out, taking Maruki's and gently clasping.
Her eyes redden slightly, a couple of tears trickling down her cheek now. Her chest feels caught in vice grip for a second or two, but the feeling is quick to pass and she feels light again, exhaling slowly. ]
We were resolute in our decision to accept that pain all over, but... having Father as the way he could have been again, I won't take it for granted either.
[ She doesn't know when the pain will lessen, especially today of all days, but it solidified her decision to change his heart. What could have been, even if it was not meant to be. ]
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Those tears slip down her cheeks and Maruki unwraps his free hand from around his mug in favor of cradling Haru's in both of his own. A gentle, anchoring weight, holding her steady through this wave of fresh grief. He never meant to bring this on to her again. It seems like a wound he can't stop inadvertently tearing into, and he's desperate to make amends. ]
I'll accept your gratitude if you'll let me express my own to you, too.
[ Yes, it was Akira's hand around his wrist at the end of all things, but their leader didn't get to that point alone. It took all of them to reach Maruki, their combined will and might, and that's a debt he'll never be able to repay. ]
You helped to save me, no matter how hard I fought against it. I can't thank you enough.
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When Maruki's hands cradle her own, warmth permeating her palm and up into her wrist and her arm, she remembers she need not look far for a gentle hand. ]
I'm glad. [ She smiles finally, joy radiating behind those eyes. ] Welcome back, Maruki-san.
[ She keeps her hand where it lays on the table, under Maruki's bigger, but gentler ones. She uses her other free one to dab at her eyes, wiping tears away a bit bashfully. ]
I'm sorry for getting so emotional. Today is just... well.
closes eyes
Please, don't apologize.
[ A light squeeze to her hands; he lets go with one so he can pick up his coffee again, but keeps the other there for as long as Haru wants, ever the gentle anchor. ]
Did something else happen today? I apologize, I only got back last night, so I'm still catching up...
no subject
[ She doesn't move her hand yet either, perhaps reluctant now as it dawns on her how much she's needed such gentle comfort after such a violent dream.
After watching the violence unfold before her eyes over and over in this world.
She does continue to dry her eyes, smiling through the heartache of it all. ]
Please don't apologize. It's not like you did this on purpose.
[ Haru tears her gaze away momentarily, looking at the photo behind the counter. ]
It's been a year since Father's passing. I didn't realize it would hit me the way it has, I guess.
no subject
A year... today is the anniversary?
[ If he sorts through the wreckage of his own memories right now, as swiftly as he can, it does make sense– he remembers watching the news cast himself, and the weather had been about to turn... ]
Haru...
[ To think, Haru confronted him on his own terrible anniversary, and he's returned to her on hers. Time and reality, ever serendipitous, even in the worst ways.
His voice is soft, soft. ]
Would you like a hug?
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A hug? I... oh.
[ She hadn't thought about it before.
All the condolences she had received leading up to the funeral, during it and after, were always courteous words. A handshake, a polite bow, sometimes a considerate pat on her shoulder.
Nobody had once comforted her with a hug, despite knowing she had lost the only family she had left in this world. ]
I... I suppose I wouldn't say no.
no subject
When he awoke alone in his apartment after Akira saved him from shattering along with his failed reality–
All he wanted was to be held.
He gets up from his seat, comes around to Haru's side of the table. Both arms stretch out before him, welcoming her to stand and let herself freefall into a safe embrace. ]
no subject
Her body remembers all the wrong things first, yet misses the safety someone's arms provide.
As she rises and slips into a gentle embrace, the bustling of the street outside the cafe seems to fade into a muted hush and all she can hear is her own heart in her ribs.
All the handshakes, the little pats on her back and shoulders at the funeral, all meant to convey care rather than truly offer it.
And against Maruki, for the first time since Akira had pulled her into his own embrace upon her arrival, does she feel safe and cared for. ]
... thank you, Maruki-san.
[ She gives a gentle squeeze; maybe he needs this, too. ]
CRIES BLOOD WE CAN WRAP......... MAMARUKI HUGS FOR HARU WHENEVER SHE WANTS
drags bloodied carcass to the end... wrapped 💝
WRAPT