Archive of Our Own

Kurusu had chosen the utopia.

Maruki still cried when he thought about that fateful meeting. Akechi had been spewing nothing but bile towards him, yet Kurusu understood what needed to be done. He knew what Maruki had wanted to do -- and let him do it. The idea of facing the Phantom Thieves had terrified him, but now that was a part of the distant past.

Everyone was happy now.

When Maruki managed to leave his Palace, he saw smiling faces, heard the sounds of laughter, and felt the radiant warmth of pure joy. It was always enough to bring tears to his eyes. He had taken the picture of the former Phantom Thieves at graduation, helped some people with their luggage, and managed to get a cat out of a tree. All this wore down on him, but seeing their beaming faces was worth it. More than worth it.

But it was all he could manage before he had to retreat back to his stronghold. Keeping everyone in his paradise happy took more out of him than he wanted to admit to. Maruki grit his teeth as he opened the front door and stepped inside, sighing in relief at the comfort of his domain. He was home.

Home, however, did not come without its drawbacks.

While Maruki was out, voices whispered in his head. They were the voices of the lambs that he had guided to salvation. They spoke of their troubles, their challenges, and their triumphs without end. Outside of his Palace, it was quiet amongst the real chatter of the people. Here, though, it was louder. Stronger. Maruki grit his teeth as he ascended the first set of stairs and clenched his fists in his pockets.

“Oh! You found my cat!”

“I just got my promotion! I never thought it would happen!”

“Shiho, let’s go shopping!”

It had been nice to hear these things at first. After all, it meant that Maruki was doing good work. People were happy, just like he wanted. But the longer it went on, the more he begged someone -- anyone -- to make it stop. He could hardly sleep or eat without the voices bothering him. If only they could be quiet sometimes ... even just for a moment.

‘How selfish,’ Maruki thought to himself. He frowned at his pathetic nature and continued past the auditorium and the billboards. If only he had the energy to teleport. Right now, it would be a long walk up many, many stairs for him to get to Eden. Another trivial matter that shouldn’t bother him.

After all, the needs of his flock outweighed his own. They always would.

“I’m so happy!”

“This is amazing!”

Maruki smiled softly to himself as he passed by two of the many cognitive people created by his desires. His casual outfit faded into his white uniform, as pristine and perfect as ever. Maruki took a moment to adjust his gloves, and then walked on.

The climb was lonely and quiet, but soft music echoing from the speakers made it more bearable. Doctors meandered about the various doors in the Palace, talking amongst one another about patients or examinations. Everything seemed to be running smoothly, which took a load off of Maruki’s back. His smile grew slightly wider as he continued to ascend the blindingly white staircase to the next few floors.

Eventually, he came across the waiting room for the examinations. Maruki wished he had the time to do this himself, but with so many people needing help, it was simply impossible. It didn’t mean, however, that he couldn’t poke his head in now and again to make sure things were running smoothly.

He did just that, but paused when he noticed some receptionists gathered around someone sitting down. Someone was crying. While it sounded familiar, Maruki couldn’t place it. Was this someone he had seen in the real world beforehand? Were they struggling?

Most importantly, how could he help?

“Is ... everything alright?” he asked.

All of the Shadows’ heads snapped up at once, but only one walked over to Maruki. He bowed his head in reverence, then looked Maruki in the eye.

“My Lord, this patient won’t cooperate,” it said in its distorted tones. “We’ve tried everything, but he won’t take the exam ...”

“Let me help,” Maruki responded with care. He placed a gentle hand on the Shadow’s shoulder, squeezed, and then walked over towards the commotion. His footsteps echoed lightly on the white tiles, announcing his arrival to the other Shadows. They hastily stepped back, allowing Maruki to see who was consumed by their trauma.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Maruki’s voice was soothing and soft -- everything a patient could want. The voices in his head were long forgotten by now. He crouched by the tormented person, offering a hand that was not taken. He sighed at this, but said nothing else otherwise. Sometimes, people couldn’t reach out. That was all right.

This did, however, give Maruki the chance to closely examine this patient. And the more he looked, the more his heart sank.

He had messy dark brown hair, tousled and soft-looking. There was no stubble on his face, and he wore glasses. The heaving sobs sounded so familiar to Maruki -- he had desperately tried to lock the memories away, after all.

“Rumi,” the cognitive version of himself mumbled. His voice ached with despair. “Rumi ...”

Maruki recoiled immediately, standing and taking a few steps back. Disgust filled his very soul. He glared at this other version of him -- one that his mind surely had created. That’s how cognitive psience worked, right? He had done more than enough research, but actually seeing it --

“I miss her!” the younger Maruki sobbed. “I miss her, I want her back!”

The Shadows looked to Maruki for guidance. Maruki simply stared at this false self with a growing sense of nausea. Was he really this selfish? Rumi had suffered, and while he missed her, she was happy now. Right? That’s what mattered. The fact that a part of him clearly didn’t think that was the case --

“Please, just let me see that she’s okay ...”

“You know that can’t happen,” Maruki said firmly. The other one looked over at him with a tear-stained face and puffy eyes underneath the glasses. He looked downright shameful, beyond the point of pitiable. “It wouldn’t be good for her.”

“But ...”

“No.” His voice was sharp enough to cut, and he even scowled. He had to look away before he did something rash. He couldn’t stop himself from mumbling: “Is this really what I want ...? How shameful.”

The cognitive version of Maruki, however, didn’t stop. It was almost like a floodgate had been opened once he was asked if he was okay. He bowed his head, wiping at his tears. “I gave so much up,” he whispered shakily. “I gave up everything, even Rumi ...”

The real Maruki’s hands balled into fists once more, trembling with shame and anger. This couldn’t be what he thought. He would never, ever sway in his beliefs. Not like this. Never like this!

“Stop,” he demanded. His voice was no longer kind.

Instead, the cognitive Maruki kept talking.

“... my life with her, my dreams ...”

Maruki’s jaw tightened in response. “Stop it!”

The double didn’t even pause. “... and I just don’t feel like it was worth it --”

“ Shut up! ”

Maruki saw red. He stormed over to his cognitive self and grasped him by the collar of his shirt, hoisting him up with a strength he didn’t know he had. His eyes blazed with fury as he stared at his younger self.

“Do you think your pain is comparable to hers?” he snapped. “It isn’t! Rumi suffered so badly that she couldn’t even function! How dare you try to say that you’re hurting!?”

Maruki threw the cognitive being on the ground, who cried out in pain. He then stormed over to his shameful counterpart and kicked him in a blind fury -- once, then twice, then three times. His younger self curled up into a ball, heaving heavy sobs.

“You don’t know the real meaning of pain!” Maruki kicked his cognitive self one more time, then grabbed his shirt again. He slammed him down once, then let go. “You’re just a selfish -- you’re --” He fumbled with his words. Instead, he let out a rage-filled scream and kicked his cognitive self directly in the stomach. He still felt no satisfaction.

The other Maruki coughed twice, then looked up at the real one with pain in his eyes. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

The question took Maruki aback, and for a moment, all he could do was stand there and stare dumbly. The other Maruki stumbled back up to his feet, clutching at his stomach and coughing still. A bit of black sludge spilled onto the white tile from his mouth.

“You’re hurting too,” he choked out. “You know that. It’s why I’m here. Why can’t you be kind to me like everyone else?”

“Because your pain isn’t real,” Maruki responded coldly. “You have no right to say it is when others have hurt far more than you ever could. I hear them all the time! Their suffering, their pain! And you dare to think --”

The cognitive Maruki coughed again, and more black slime fell onto the floor. “It doesn’t mean that I’m not hurting, too. It just means --” He retched, then forced himself to continue. “-- it just means I’m being neglected.”

“You know we don’t have time for you,” Maruki growled. “I have my utopia to worry about.”

“It’s not much of a utopia if you’re not happy too.”

Maruki screamed in rage once more. He hadn’t even noticed that his clothes had changed to his golden armor and robe, and before he could even process it, he had stabbed the cognitive Maruki through the heart with the end of the staff.

Then, he stabbed him again.

And again.

Maruki didn’t stop until his cognitive self vanished into black and red smears onto the floor. Even then, it took some time. He kept hitting the tile with his staff, nearly breaking one in half. His actions were feral, and he never stopped screaming in a foreign, rage-induced panic.

Once Maruki was satisfied, he allowed his staff to clatter to the ground. Then, his knees buckled. He fell to the floor in a heap, breathing erratically and still shaking. The Shadows continued to stand motionlessly, watching him with a critical eye.

“My Lord?” one asked.

“I’m fine,” Maruki rasped. “That patient was beyond hope. Just go back to your duties.”

“Understood, sir.” They did so without a complaint.

It took quite some time for Maruki to stand back up. When his clothes faded back to his white suit, there were smears of red and black on the outer coat. Maruki’s slicked-back hair was now a mess, sticking up in every direction.

“I can’t believe this came true!”

“Shall we play a round of chess?”

“I love you so much. Thank you.”

Maruki chuckled quietly to himself.

“... we can teach you how to make curry, too.”

He started to laugh outright. Once he started, he couldn’t stop. Maruki laughed uncontrollably, tears in his eyes. He threw his head back and cackled madly, hands still trembling from earlier. He cried, but still couldn’t stop himself. Maruki stumbled back onto the closest couch.

He couldn’t get up again.

“I’m so happy today.”

Maruki’s laugh eventually turned to familiar heaving sobs.