"I didn't think he would actually follow me into the elevator, either. Since I'm supposedly so dangerous."
But he had, and she should've realized how much he was barely containing his rage from the way the door's metal had warped under his grip. Should've sensed the danger immediately and left. But he hadn't done anything after that, he'd just... bantered, normal, even let her scold him over making a mess of the kitchen.
She thought maybe she was overreacting, being hyperbolic like the two kept insisting she was. Figured no one would react to a simple little push to the arm, no firmer than one would give a child.
But her distrust and assumptions were proven right. Why did she ever doubt herself?
"I think for today, at least. I don't think he can behave himself."
Takuto had been watching through the eyes of the cognitions when he was pulling both Kuon and Zenkichi away from each other. That glimpse of raw panic flickering when Wolf's rage had shown, causing his mask to glitch out of existence, was something to be noted.
"I think he's just...well, he's paranoid with you. Not your fault, of course, but I have met jumpy individuals here," he sighs. "Then the things I have heard from his future and then his daughter..."
Doc.
Maruki clicked his tongue. "All the more reason for me to be there then. You and the Hasegawas have a temporary truce, which is why I don't want it to get worse for you." His voice shuffled in the background with the slightest sigh of a coat being worn.
"I'll take extra sugar and an extra expresso shot, if you'll indulge me," Kuon sighed, slowly settling into relief and looking at her wrist, flexing her fingers. It felt much, much better... there was a little pinprick of green, but it was far less noticeable than the bruise had been. As she stood, she found the pain from a slightly dislocated shoulder had been soothed, too.
While getting more injured was not appealing given how much things were still painful, she did feel a bit more confident that any injury wouldn't be terribly permanent. She really did find the right man to have in her corner...
"Alright. I think the adrenaline's worn off enough, I'll make my way back. I'll have a clear head by the time I get there."
As Kuon shifted, testing the motion of her fingers, Azathoth moved again.
Its limbs didn't twitch this time — they flowed. One long tendril unfurled with a deliberate slowness, arching toward her like an eclipse reaching down to touch the earth. It didn’t speak, didn’t pulse with power, didn’t demand attention. It merely hovered near — the way a hand might reach to catch someone not for falling, but for reassurance. For presence.
A wordless gesture: You are not alone.
The tendril curved toward her back, just brushing close enough for its warmth to be felt — not touching, just letting its presence say what it couldn't. That it saw her pain. That it knew the toll.
And that it approved of her being grateful. To be relied on. To be praised.
From the overhead speaker, Takuto’s voice returned, softened now by a gentle smile Kuon couldn’t see — but could feel in the timbre of his tone.
"You don’t have to pretend in front of the Hasegawas," he said. "They weren’t exactly polite to us. And I believe in you, Kuon."
There was a quiet rhythm of footsteps — not echoing, but existing, like he was walking somewhere just outside her view. Adjusting his outfit, maybe?
Then, a low click. The mic opened again.
"I’ll meet you there," Takuto said simply. "See you."
Azathoth lingered for a moment longer — tendrils rising slightly as if debating whether to remain. But something in the doctor's voice, that parting note of trust, seemed to satisfy it.
With one last ripple — almost like the slow exhale of a great creature settling — Azathoth retracted its limbs, folding back into itself. One tendril curled last, hesitating before drawing away like a loyal hound called to heel.
Giving the lingering tentacle a fond wave with her fingers, Kuon calmed and opened the door.
Unfortunately, she would have to keep pretending in front of the Hasegawas. They were still on a hair trigger, eager for her to 'prove them right', to come off as the horrible villain they want her to be.
Still - she'd demand an apology. She deserved one.
Gradually she made her way back, taking her time on the walk there to clear her head. Upon re-entering the IT room, she gave Takuto a grateful smile and returned to her desk, dropping into her chair and scooping up the mug of coffee made just for her. Mmm... tasty as always.
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But he had, and she should've realized how much he was barely containing his rage from the way the door's metal had warped under his grip. Should've sensed the danger immediately and left. But he hadn't done anything after that, he'd just... bantered, normal, even let her scold him over making a mess of the kitchen.
She thought maybe she was overreacting, being hyperbolic like the two kept insisting she was. Figured no one would react to a simple little push to the arm, no firmer than one would give a child.
But her distrust and assumptions were proven right. Why did she ever doubt herself?
"I think for today, at least. I don't think he can behave himself."
no subject
"I think he's just...well, he's paranoid with you. Not your fault, of course, but I have met jumpy individuals here," he sighs. "Then the things I have heard from his future and then his daughter..."
Doc.
Maruki clicked his tongue. "All the more reason for me to be there then. You and the Hasegawas have a temporary truce, which is why I don't want it to get worse for you." His voice shuffled in the background with the slightest sigh of a coat being worn.
"I will get your coffee for now. The usual?"
no subject
While getting more injured was not appealing given how much things were still painful, she did feel a bit more confident that any injury wouldn't be terribly permanent. She really did find the right man to have in her corner...
"Alright. I think the adrenaline's worn off enough, I'll make my way back. I'll have a clear head by the time I get there."
no subject
Its limbs didn't twitch this time — they flowed. One long tendril unfurled with a deliberate slowness, arching toward her like an eclipse reaching down to touch the earth. It didn’t speak, didn’t pulse with power, didn’t demand attention. It merely hovered near — the way a hand might reach to catch someone not for falling, but for reassurance. For presence.
A wordless gesture: You are not alone.
The tendril curved toward her back, just brushing close enough for its warmth to be felt — not touching, just letting its presence say what it couldn't. That it saw her pain. That it knew the toll.
And that it approved of her being grateful. To be relied on. To be praised.
From the overhead speaker, Takuto’s voice returned, softened now by a gentle smile Kuon couldn’t see — but could feel in the timbre of his tone.
"You don’t have to pretend in front of the Hasegawas," he said. "They weren’t exactly polite to us. And I believe in you, Kuon."
There was a quiet rhythm of footsteps — not echoing, but existing, like he was walking somewhere just outside her view. Adjusting his outfit, maybe?
Then, a low click. The mic opened again.
"I’ll meet you there," Takuto said simply. "See you."
Azathoth lingered for a moment longer — tendrils rising slightly as if debating whether to remain. But something in the doctor's voice, that parting note of trust, seemed to satisfy it.
With one last ripple — almost like the slow exhale of a great creature settling — Azathoth retracted its limbs, folding back into itself. One tendril curled last, hesitating before drawing away like a loyal hound called to heel.
no subject
Unfortunately, she would have to keep pretending in front of the Hasegawas. They were still on a hair trigger, eager for her to 'prove them right', to come off as the horrible villain they want her to be.
Still - she'd demand an apology. She deserved one.
Gradually she made her way back, taking her time on the walk there to clear her head. Upon re-entering the IT room, she gave Takuto a grateful smile and returned to her desk, dropping into her chair and scooping up the mug of coffee made just for her. Mmm... tasty as always.