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Right there, in that very moment... granting your wish... Azathoth is your heart's miracle.

Not strange.

Not malicious.

His inner self wasn't rotten.

A miracle.

The brown in his eyes flickered gold. Tears threatened to break through the surface as his sniffles grew.

"...my heart's miracle."

He grew quiet, closing his eyes shut.

His voice breaks, lifting his hand from his shirt to cover his face.

"...why didn't we meet earlier?"

Edited 2025-06-28 18:36 (UTC)

She's never cried. Never mourned, not like this. But there is something she can see in Takuto, right now... it's the same feeling she had when he first praised EMMA to her. Praised her even after finding out what she was able to do, instead of reacting with fear. How he only got more and more understanding of EMMA.

Humans are social animals. Ichinose Kuon knows this. Heart or no, it's ingrained deep in the psyche to notice the silence of an empty room, or scornful furrowed brows, over and over and over again.

It is lonely. It is deeply lonely, and it makes that inner social animal ache.

Gently, Kuon took the hand that Takuto was covering his face, pulling it down so he wasn't hiding, even as messy and tearful as he was. He was raw, flayed himself open just because of how much he trusted Kuon... and if he could trust like that, it was only fair to reward it.

"It is a lonely road, sometimes, seeing what we see. Knowing what we know," she started, lightly moving herself a little closer, lightly pulling his hands towards her.

Moving his hands, she pulled Takuto's shoulders towards her and into a hug, embracing him and offering a shoulder to cry on - what is a doll but a thing of comfort and companionship, when all of the world's humans reject you and scorn you? She can be a doll for his comfort, put to good use, for once.

"You don't have to be alone, anymore. I'm here."

"It is a lonely road, sometimes, seeing what we see. Knowing what we know."

Why is his vision so blurry? Why do his insides feel like mush all over, destroyed and disintegrated into a hundred pieces in a way he never really let anyone else perceive? Not until today, before this doll who claims not to have a heart and yet, understands him like she has one.

A beautiful, impossible being, delicate and deliberate, who comprehends what it means to try, and try, and try again—only to feel the world fall apart in your hands like ash and saltwater.

She sees him.

All of him.

Maybe it would take a thousand years to count the cost of everything he's lost. Maybe longer.

But somehow... it feels like he could bear it now.

With her.

"I'm here."

With the quiet, gentle warmth from Azathoth-so unlike its usual consuming cold. Even the vast silence in his mind stirs, broken not by terror but by a single, trembling piano note. Something human. Something tender.

A miracle. His heart can create miracles.

And she's...accepting it. All of it. The ruin. The tremors. The vulnerability. She doesn’t flinch from his wreckage. Doesn’t pity him. Doesn’t recoil. She meets his eyes without judgment, as though she’s been waiting to carry this with him all along.

He freezes as her arms come around him-an instinctive disbelief that such grace could be meant for him. Pretence flickers, that old habit to hold himself at a distance. But it crumbles. He lets go.

Like fate had once again fought against him and failed, and he held her like he had hoped he would. Residing in a place inside her chest where he belonged.

He abandoned all pretence. All the walls that threatened to pull him away as he broke into pieces, knowing Kuon would catch him on the other side.

His knee bumped against hers, shoulders broad and open as his arms curled around Kuon's waist. Tall as he is, it takes nothing at all to close the space between them. To let her feel how deeply he wants this.

He holds her with purpose, with promise, with gratitude so large it aches.

And as his breath shudders and the tears fall freely, Rumi’s laughter echoes softer, more distant in his memory.

How many dolls in the world have been held like this? Those holding the doll curling around their heartless companion, soothed nonetheless, filling the fake hair with tears and sobs like Takuto is doing now.

"Dolls can also be pretty."

Like a piece of a puzzle falling into place.

She always believed in EMMA's deductions. In what EMMA represented in her success. In the obvious proof that being heartless isn't so bad. But she hadn't made the connection here, before... this is what a doll is for. To be an ever-smiling companion, not blinded by empathy.

Kuon let Takuto sob into her shoulder, hugging him back, a silent gesture to show he didn't need to pull away or stop himself. Lazily, she rested her cheek against his shoulder, closing her eyes and feeling... at peace. She understood herself, now it made sense... and if she was going to be anyone's doll, best be the person who best matched what her EMMA so wisely chose for the future of the world. If she'd throw in her whole lot with EMMA, then obviously she should do the same for Takuto for as long as they share this reality together, right?

Her gentle pats on his back are unpracticed, but no less earnest, and she doesn't complain about her leg feeling a little strained from the angle or her mind getting restless from so long without something to settle on - those weren't important. Though maybe, later, she'll have to ask him how to actually act comforting - that way she can do a better job of it next time. Slowly, almost without thinking, she started humming that tune that could never really leave her head's internal loop for long, just humming along and wondering if it might annoy him or distract him or if it might help in some way she didn't understand.

Edited 2025-06-28 23:38 (UTC)

Seconds turned to minutes. The sobs shifted to quiet rasps and sniffles before they had sobered up too, leaving behind a heart that still thumped within him. It was alive and...connected with the gap that resided just slightly left of the centre of Ichinose's chest.

Or so she liked to say.

He breathes with her, heaving as he feels her hand on his back. Patting him as he feels the haze clearing and then...the humming. The humming that pulled him from the clutches of when the quiet became all too quiet. When the emotions cleared and the high simmered, what was left of them when the storm cleared?

He waited, listening to her distinct humming.

Once he realised just how damp Ichinose's shoulder had become and she was already resting her head on his shoulder, Maruki moved his arms slightly up; keeping her tucked into him. Hell, even using himself as her rest as he pulls back only just slightly. Just enough to give the signal that she could pull away from him if she wanted to.

"Sorry...I didn't want to let go of you just yet," he whispered shyly. "It's just, it's been so long since someone has held me like this."

Edited 2025-06-29 00:42 (UTC)

Oh, he's settled down some? While Kuon does lift her head, she does scoot close as he adjusts himself, staying in the embrace. He was warm, pleasantly so, even with the warmth of a summer night. About three loops of the song in her mind - not too long at all, and he looked miles better.

"Looks like you needed it. I'm glad I could be a comfort," she reassured, pulling a hand away from his back to gently wipe at his tear-dampened cheek with a thumb. "You're worth it. A good friend and pleasant company - I am glad I can be a shoulder for you."

Especially since... it was such a far cry from how many people shirked from her, or felt that she was cold or unsettling. Takuto just happened to be a man that needed a doll.

He blinked, slowly, like waking from a long, impossible dream. His breath trembled in his chest, shallow and stunned, but no longer drowning him. Her words curled around the wounded edges of his heart, soft and clear.

You're worth it.

How long had it been since he let himself believe that?

And yet... he didn't flinch. Not this time.

He looked at her, and his eyes were still glassy, rimmed red from the storm she had helped him survive. His glasses remained just the slightest bit askew on his nose- slightly fogged up as he reached up and plucked them off his eyes, hooking them onto his collar.

Through the lingering dampness, a small, unguarded smile began to form. Grateful. Gentle. The kind of smile that trembles with how hard it is to find its place against the unfair reality.

It was the kind of smile he offered students or strangers in sterile white rooms. Messy and subtle as it was, it was raw.

He was still reeling from how natural her touch had felt. From how her thumb had so carefully brushed a tear from his cheek, like she’d done it a hundred times in another life.

She shouldn't understand any of this, he thought.
She said she couldn't feel. That she wasn’t made to hold anyone’s pain.

He grasped her hand, the one that was just about to pull away after wiping his tears, to keep it there. Fingers wrapped around her wrist gently as he closed his eyes and leaned against her open palm.

"...Kuon?"

There was a pause as he said with a certain finality. "Thank you."

Edited 2025-06-29 13:20 (UTC)

"You're welcome," she replied softly, her own smile quirking just a little more broad as he leaned his cheek into her palm. Found her comforting.

Not creepy.

"I think you've needed someone without a heart. Empathy... that would make someone's heart bleed for you. And you... you're always distracted by someone else's pain," she mused, taking in this shaking man... this man who looked like he was just pulled out of the raging sea by his collar.

"When you tell other people about this, that's what happens, isn't it? They hurt for you and Rumi, and then you worry about their pain instead. No one can see through the cloud of their empathy to see you."

And you...you're always distracted by someone else's pain.

Maruki smile grows sharper, not countering her point nor saying she is wrong as he opens his eyes. "It is my desire." Why should someone else's heart bleed for him? The last thing he wants is to have someone mourn for him and Rumi when...things got better.

Once he's sure Kuon is comfortable, he fixes his glasses on his nose- the foggy smudges dotting the lens like it were a dream. As if Kuon being this close to him was only part of some other ideal reality where he wasn't alone anymore.

Still..."I appreciate their sympathy on the matter, though," he smiles like he means it, still looking at her like he could see her heart bleeding still. "I am...not usually worth the trouble. I am the one who got away from it all. I don't mind it."

The hand still resting on her back carefully started to weave through her hair.

"Rumi is happy now. She's doing so much better, and if forgetting me is the cost of it all, I will do it all over again. People don't understand that." I won't be pathetic anymore. "Her future is bright again, and I want to keep trying. There are so many futures that have been shrouded in the dark- if my treatment brings them to light again...then that's what I want to do."

He nodded determinedly.

A cloudy haze overcomes his gaze, looking at Kuon and far beyond at the same time- his left eye glowing gold. "Perhaps in some other universe...I settled down with her. Perhaps in another world...we grew old together."

Edited 2025-06-29 17:30 (UTC)

"But not this one. This research...this cure, this is my tribute to her and-" he chuckles lightly, but it breaks at the end.

"-I lost everything... so there's nothing more for me to lose anymore. No matter what this place says. I will keep trying. For Rumi."

"I have to be the one to do this."

Edited 2025-06-29 17:25 (UTC)

"Exactly. Sacrifices are supposed to hurt, aren't they? So of course you miss her."

He's a human with a normal heart, after all. Building up all of that pain because he can't ignore the pain of others... did he need someone like Kuon this badly?

"But that pain won't stop you - that's admirable. For as long as we're here, as long as you'll have me as a friend, I'll be your support. Just like I was planning to be for EMMA... I'll do what I can to see this miracle through."

Edited 2025-06-29 23:01 (UTC)

"I did, though," he admits- shaking his head at Kuon's insistence. He doubted himself so so much and well, he made mistakes. He can admit that but he can also admit that things can only look up from here. For himself. For Rumi. For the Yoshizawas. For Morning.

And now Kuon too.

It would be so easy...to die by the hands of the those who suffered by some other Maruki’s hands. It has already happened. Twice.

It really couldn't get worse than that. His death didn't matter.

"I did nearly give up. I lost my perspective so it makes me wonder if what I am feeling right now is..."

"Hope..?"

He leans in a little as he tries to adjust himself, his nose bumping against her- even through his clumsiness as he finds himself laughing.

"Heh...oh god-! Haha!" He chuckles at their positioning. "...you must be so uncomfortable right now. Can you even feel your shoulders?" He asks, worriedly- pulling away to give her body the movement she needs.

Edited (pfp change) 2025-06-30 00:22 (UTC)

"Oh, I'm not bothered at all, I hardly sit normally in the first place," she laughed, but figured she would at least adjust to slide closer, sitting hip-to-hip with him before leaning against his shoulder.

"How does your chest feel after getting all that crying out? Seems like you were a shaken soda bottle just waiting to burst!"

"True. I swear I saw you sitting upside down on my couch a few days earlier," he grins teasingly at the fond memory.

Once again, hip-to-hip, he adjusts his glasses before just removing it from his face- wiping away the smudges on his lens with his shirt as he feels her head against his shoulder.

He smiles softly, blush showing on his face again.

"Oh no, don't remind me..." His throat is so parched from all the crying and sobbing it would almost be embarassing if Kuon wasn't here. "What I would kill for some actual soda right now. I am exhausted. "

He says that but there is a sealed can he had bought caught between them.

He placed his glasses back on his nose, satisfied with the much clearer vision.

"But...I'm relieved," he says quietly like he was unsure how much peace would he lose against the relentless nature of this place.

Her insides become cold at what she hears, pausing as she rings up Zenkichi on their private port again,

"...did he not take his stimulants earlier?" Is the first thing Akane mutters into the call.

She clears his throat, light glitching slipping into her usual voice as she sighs. "Are all your limbs intact? Do you need healing?"

"You don't care."

The words had left her mouth before she could stop herself. There was a cold, hollow feeling in her chest - I didn't need a reminder that it could have gone so much worse. The strain in her shoulder socket and the bruising around her wrist were sufficient.

"...If I were that injured, I wouldn't be able to talk this calmly."

"Good thing you had a doll to curl up with," she hummed in amusement, sitting up for just a moment to reach for that soda he'd brought and pass it to him before tucking herself against him again. It was a bit of a muggy night, but for some reason, the warmth of him didn't bother her at all.

Dolls can be pretty.

People make dolls to be the companions that they lack. The companions that are always there for them.

Happily, Kuon started humming again, her feet swinging just a little bit. She was feeling... good. Certain, for once, a certainty that only comes from really understanding oneself for the first time. Resolute.

She can't be a loving girlfriend. She can't be a fun coworker, or a charming daughter, or anything like that. But she can be someone's doll, their support, there to comfort them and help them succeed.

Just like she was ready to do for EMMA. She'll do it for Takuto Maruki.

You don't care.

Okay, what the hell was that for? "Did you just seriously say that?!" She says all too quickly, raising her voice before blinking in shock behind the receiver. She doesn't care. Akane tries to rein herself in by taking deep breaths because unlike all these other adults, she needs Kuon's collaboration.

"So you are injured. Thank you for the extra mental puzzle," she says, rolling her eyes. "Listen- the only reason I don't care is because guess what? I am not even supposed to care in my nature. So quit the accusatory tone and just come downstairs if you want me to use my diarama on you. I don't have much heals on me-"

The cognition next to her twitched all too suddenly. The creature stilled — or rather, paused mid-glitch. Limbs hanging in ragdoll collapse jerked upright, marionette strings snapping back into tensionless control. Then, slowly, unnaturally, it tilted.

Its head moved in a stuttered arc, not turning — but shifting, like a corrupted file trying to remember how humans gesture curiosity. The click-clack of its many fingers quieted, curling inwards like petals drawn in by light.

And then — its entire upper frame lowered toward her, not in a bow, but in reverence. Joints unwound with soft, wet pops as tentacles emerged where arms once were, slipping from flesh like silk dragged through teeth. They shimmered with a low hum, twitching in slow, hypnotic ripples.

A tendril traced the air before her chest, trembling with restraint. It didn't touch — not yet. Instead, it circled her like an orbit, a spiral of pulsating green light. Another curled near her bruised wrist, tip flickering like a glitching cursor trying to highlight pain.

A show of concern. Or something that thinks it understands the concept.

One appendage — the thinnest — rose with a balletic, serpentine grace. It hovered inches from her face, trembling, pulsing like a vein. With sudden, insectoid stillness, it froze in place and bloomed — the neon-green split open like a sea anemone, revealing rows of soft, bioluminescent spines vibrating in a calming hum.

An offering.

Meanwhile, Akane's voice boomed from her phone. "If it's Wolf's fault, he will apologize. Not me. I am not here to clean the mess of literal adults!"

"Ah--"

Kuon had startled at the jerky, abrupt movements from the shadow at first. But after a couple of seconds of surprise, she calmed, recognizing the strangeness of Azathoth - right. This was his Palace... he would always be able to reach out.

"No need. I'll be just fine, Akane," she said, voice leveled back out after the startled gasp that must've come across before. Slowly, Kuon lifted her bruised wrist, caressing the the tendril in front of her face and tracing to where the spines were blooming out with her fingertips. Appreciatively - at least, this was probably how one touched to show appreciation to something eldritch like this. "Your father didn't apologize for the first encounter, I doubt he'll apologize for this one."

A doll...Maruki wasn't sure how to feel about that yet. She didn't find any offense to it- holding that title and cradling it in her hands with the wonder to cherish it. So much of what he had said had been blurred by lines that were caught in his throat that he wasn't even sure if he had spilled something unsavoury in the midst of his cries.

Still.

A miracle...

He held onto that, the same way she did to her own.

"Oh-! Thank you!" He beamed at her as she passed him the soda he had bought.

So much of her presence next to him felt freeing. Like he had finally found his own anchor after sinking for so long. Her humming warmed his heart in ways he had...missed.

He missed Rumi so much.

With her place next to him, Takuto popped open the can without really checking the label.

Which served to be a mistake.

His eyes widened as hd sputters after the first gulp.

"Pfft- ugh, oh no that's not-" he coughs as he turns his face away from Kuon. "Is that- toothpaste?!"

And sure enough, the label on the can read Mint Choco soda.

“Woah woah woah — what was that just now?!” Akane’s tone cracked with disbelief. “I could probably, literally give you reasons why he’s not going to apologize for your first meeting, but you are being dodgy as hell, Ichinose. Seriously, you—”

She stopped mid-rant.

A beat of silence.

“...Huh,” Akane muttered, voice lower now. “Well...okay, whatever. I’ll meet you in the IT lab in ten minutes.”

The call cut off with a soft click.

The room shifted in atmosphere the moment her voice disappeared — quieter, somehow. From one corner of the chamber, a PA speaker crackled faintly to life. It was mounted on a floating, gilded tentacle near the ceiling, its eye blinking with artificial light.

"I messaged her that Zenkichi-san is in a break room, so they will leave us alone for now."

The voice that followed was unmistakably Maruki’s — calm, warm, measured — but there was something tight in it. A pause. A subtle hitch before the next words slipped through, seeing and feeling through Azathoth’s many eyes what Kuon had done.

She touched it. And it responded like a cat curling into a sunbeam.

Azathoth let out no sound, but its entire form shifted — massive limbs coiling inward, folding into themselves with a content, organic shudder. One tendril curled gently around Kuon’s wrist, cradling it like an offering, like a limb returned to a shrine. From the wound in its spine-like appendage, a smaller feeler emerged — glowing bright, the tip sharp like a glass needle glinting under fluorescence.

Maruki’s voice returned, softer now.

“Azathoth.. can heal people, you know. It regenerated my arm once. It will only leave a little smudge of green after.”
“It can sense when someone is in pain. So relax. You've earned it, Kuon.”

The spined tendril around her wrist constricted ever so slightly — not threatening, just holding. The fine-tipped feeler hovered, paused, then made its choice.

With the precision of a surgeon, it pricked the edge of her bruising.

Just a pin of pain — sharp, but fleeting. The kind of discomfort that came with resetting a bone, or pressure applied to swelling. Not cruel. Not gentle. Just exact.

A glow spread across her skin, subtle at first, then overtaking the bruising in faint ripples of light. The soreness ebbed away, replaced with a sense of numb, humming warmth — like pins and needles dissolving into calm.

Leaving behind the slightest green smudge on her skin.

Azathoth’s core pulsed in answer, almost proudly, like a beast pleased with its offering.

"How are you feeling?"

Edited 2025-07-01 09:05 (UTC)

Sharp, worse than a shot, but so quick that Kuon only had an involuntary flinch from it even after relaxing her arm completely for Azathoth's gentle grip. She felt it flood through her veins, going to each fingertip and up her arm, the feeling washing over like a small wave. It was even helping wane the adrenaline spike.

"...Much better. Thank you, Takuto. Azathoth," she sighed in appreciation. "And of course, thank you for intervening."

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