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Maruki listened intently. Making note of her words in his mental journal, one that was only slightly blurry with the alcohol in his system.

"I-what?!" he blinks when she finishes her explanation. "..why would they-? Sorry," he cuts himself off, waving his hand. "I am really sorry to hear that, Kuon. Genuinely, that's- I suppose I can see where they are coming from, given the priority tatemae takes over in any social event."

"How did you feel when you heard those words for the first time?"

"Certainly not as strongly as you just now," Kuon replied, smiling in some amusement.

There was a pleasant warmth in her chest...

Must be from the nice quality sake.

"I can't remember exactly what I was thinking. I was thinking about a lot of things around then, like who I would be living with after that, what school I'd be transferred to, whether I would be allowed to keep my things..."

She paused to take another sip of her drink so she could more easily fidget with the cup without spilling.

"I ended up getting taken in by my mother's cousin and her husband. They saw that I never cried over my parents, after all of that. They'd be frustrated with me for asking to leave the room. Took me to a few different therapists, trying to see what was going on with me."

"Oh, er-" he catches himself, shrinking as he shakes his head. He knows how mean relatives and family can get, especially considering where he comes from. "I just don't..."

He doesn't really finish his sentence because what can he say? Understand? He understands why the world is known to push down a grieving individual rather than try to support them. Don't see it? She remembers the situation so well, she remembers and lists the things she hasn't done to please her relatives.

He was glad that she had only one set of guardians who looked after her anyway. Even tried to get her help, though he's not sure if it was more for her sake or to prove themselves right.

"Leave your room?" He asks, catching that little hint while she fidgeted with her cup. He had the rhythm, and he could tell she might be getting nervous. "Why did they tell you to leave it?"

"They wanted me to 'come out of my cave', and would say 'stop staring at your computer', things like that. I'd been learning how to code even back then, since it was something my father indulged me in - he got tired of me taking apart things like the TV remote or whatnot and got me a computer to do puzzles and other games, and I ended up getting sucked into coding pretty early on."

Nervous? No, not really. It might be a shame if he ended up getting unsettled by her, knowing the truth, though. She was having fun.

"They'd fight so hard to get me to spend time outside of my room out with them, but then I'd hear them talk behind closed doors about how much my lack of expression scared them."

Takuto's hand lingered nearby, curled up close to his glass of sake, but free.

"Hence, you chose to stay in your room." The free hand relaxed, tapping against the table before his pinky brushed against Kuon's hand. Brown eyes remained focused on the table, trying to contain his own reaction. "Your father sounds like a wonderful man, though, allowing your interests to grow in a steady environment."

"Do you like...connect with him perhaps? When you code? When you solve a problem?" He asks with a bright smile on his face. "Or well, even if you didn't- there must be a sense of comfort, right? Away from the prying eyes and living in the comfort of what your parents left behind?"

Kuon's gaze lowered to the touch to her hand, not shirking away from it, just... curious. Did his heart hurt for her, even though hers never did?

And did she feel as though the computer connected her to her parents...?

"No, I think I was always aware that they were gone. It was just annoying, sitting and doing nothing instead of working on something. Hours of silence and trying to have conversations with people I hardly knew when I hadn't learned how to talk to strangers, yet, not really. Expected to get attached when I wasn't even attached to my parents."

Not enough to cry for them or mourn them, at least. Not enough to feel anything but empty.

And yet, she coined her digital creations like family. Perhaps he misinterpreted the way she saw coding, but it was a passion she clung to. That was enough of an answer. Her struggling to connect, to open up and holding onto a definition that made sense since everyone preached it- it's unfair. It sounds suffocating.

He raised his glass to drink a big sip this time. Pulling away his hand to grab the bottle and fill his glass.

"I think I am starting to see where you are coming from. It's not easy trying to juggle or explain the feeling of grief, and it's definitely not just any of what you have described or spoken about." He shakes his head. "Every individual is different and unique. They have struggles that become invisible wounds. Traditional treatment can only take someone so far, since for that, they need to reach out if they ever want to let go of that sorrow that plagues them."

"What I can't grasp is...you say you are not attached to them when you always speak of them fondly. You recognise positive traits and patterns. I don't remember the last time I have spoken of my own in the same manner."

Edited 2025-06-21 23:42 (UTC)

"It's hard to dislike people that I only remember the positive traits of... though that's part of child psychology, isn't it? Our parental figures usually have to do something quite drastic before we hit that stage of developing our own independent thought before we can recognize problems and faults with them."

She held out her cup for a refill, since he had the bottle out already.

"I was just too young to really know my parents. That's all. How did your parents end up treating you?"

Edited 2025-06-21 23:45 (UTC)

The fact that she clings to their kindness, their choices, their legacies—the computer, the puzzles—suggests an emotional imprint. Maybe not love as she defines it, but connection all the same. Even nostalgia is a kind of mourning, just softer and slower.

Maybe she’s measuring attachment by extremes—crying, tantrums, longing—when really, grief isn’t just what’s felt; it’s what’s missing after they’re gone.

She says she wasn’t old enough to know them. But then, why defend them? Why preserve their memory so clearly, even fondly?

She has more than a memory. She has a narrative.

He only smiles at her explanation, realising the pattern where she would bend inward and force herself into the same circular thought process. It's probably better to switch the topic to something else, but...that something else is a funny little topic.

He and his parents?

"Oh, sorry," he notices her gesture and pours more sake into her cup.

Once he sets the bottle down, he ponders, arms folded with his glass filled halfway with alcohol. "I mean...they weren't awful or anything. Ha- they didn't really treat me if you get what I mean."

"Both of my parents were respectable people. Over-achievers even- given my father was a corporate executive and my mother was a surgeon, but they were always busy."

He sighed. "They never really checked in unless you gave them results. And against my siblings, haha...I am not that special." He shook his head as he drank more of the sake and poured himself a fresh glass.

Edited 2025-06-22 00:16 (UTC)

"Really? That seems unreasonable," Ichinose hummed, sipping at sake fondly. "You're clever and emotionally intelligent. You're an extremely admirable man, their standards are absolutely unreasonable if they consider you unimpressive."

Silly, really. As she spoke, she started scribbling fingerless gloves on the doodle.

The alcohol spun in his system as he finished his first glass and went for the second one.

So much so that with the alcohol all over and within, his eyebrows hike over behind his glasses as he looks at her in shock.

A blush blooms on his cheeks as he finds himself fidgeting with his glass. "Oh, that's-"

"That means a lot," he chuckles awkwardly while rubbing the back of his neck. "Especially coming from you, Kuon."

"It's just...pyschology is still a growing field. Most of Japan still scoffs at the idea of mental health awareness and I am not so well off back home. I am just some small researcher who struggles to manage his own money and juggling priorities between counselling and researching."

"But, still. Thank you."

"Just because you aren't a child prodigy doesn't mean you aren't able to achieve greatness. You're a brilliant man with a vision - however long it takes to get to that path, it's going to be a brilliant destination," she assured, saying it with full confidence.

She gently touched his arm, reassuringly.

"You'll make your world better than any psychologist could even dream of."

You're a brilliant man with a vision - however long it takes to get to that path, it's going to be a brilliant destination.

If it wasn't possible already, Maruki felt even more aware of his heart's existence the more she talked. When she touched him, his skin jumped, almost like a skittish horse before stopping there. His smile collapsed as he watched her, wordless, suddenly feeling like he had given a part of himself the more he simply looked at her. The unique hue of green in her eyes, like olives confidently held out, was even more tempting with the alcohol he held.

He can make the world better.

He will make the world better.

No matter what anyone says, because if there is even a voice that fuels the torch with which he wants to guide humanity, then imagine the thousands who carry the same sentiment. People with pain in their hearts. People who don't have vigilantes to protect them. People who do wrong to others with them pain. People who never got to live the lives they dreamt of, just to satisfy someone else's.

He returned her touch, fingers clutching her hand as he set his glass down.

Edited 2025-06-22 11:55 (UTC)

"Heh...you know, this gives me a sense of deja vu," he gulps, expression sober. "I remember when I was in the same position as this with a university friend, telling him when my research was first defunded. Think I mentioned this before, didn't I?"

"In passing," she calmly said back, mirroring his action to set her cup down as well, her fingers curling into his. "I've been very lucky because my science was an easy pitch, an easy sell - you were telling me about being defunded, not believed, all of the trials. Maybe your friend told you something similar before, but... don't get disheartened."

Lightly, she chuckled, just a breath of a laugh.

"After all, your field - possibly even some of your direct work - is what gives my EMMA the ability to save everyone, in my world. It can be done, and you will do it."

"'Due to the lack of concrete evidence, all further research and funding in the field of cognitive pscience will cease.'" he quotes as he feels her squeeze against his. As if she remained here, those words would lose all meaning.

At the mention of the friend, he scoffed. He remembered all too well how that day went. Him and Shibusawa were friends, maybe somewhere he was his best friend but he vaguely remembered the night when he found himself alone in the izakaya. Shibusawa said he had asked him five times if he was okay with it, but really, was he okay? Or did he just run when he ended up scaring him away?

"I am glad I could be of any use to you and EMMA," he smiles lightly. "EMMA has a very noble goal. You and her want to save humanity from its own hubris by solving its problems. There's nothing more admirable than that, and I am grateful that we are getting to work together." He squeezes her hand and feels how soft it really is, a thumb dancing on her index.

Edited 2025-06-22 14:36 (UTC)

"As for my friend," he chuckles as he lets their linked hands settle comfortably and raises his glass to her. "You don't have to worry- it doesn't sound like him at all."

"Well, then I'm glad to be a standout amongst your friend group," she smiled a bit more in reply, raising her cup and gently clinking it against his.

"To us, and our ways of giving our worlds a joyful existence."

"To us," he gleefully follows. ...and saving our worlds.

"Kanpai-!"

Their glasses clink as he giggles and downs the whole glass in a single go. His head spikes with a familiar ache, but he simply ignores it while keeping their hands linked. He can pull away anytime when they prepare to write down more points for their little shared project.

"Huh...sorry, I completely forgot you threw me a question before. What was it about?" He shakes his head and grabs his chopsticks to do a little swirl gesture with the glass to the side. "I am afraid you are going to lose me in the next half a dozen few glasses."

"Oooh, another drinking night! Fun~" she giggled, going in for a bottoms up! on her cup as well. His hand was warm, and he seemed to need a hand to hold. Poor sensitive heart.

"I was asking who else around here is any good with hacking and code! I'm curious how they measure up."

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