"No, I don't." He crosses his arms, though his feathers slowly smooth down again. "I've seen the Palace born of your distorted desires. So has Yoshizawa-san, and so have the Phantom Thieves."

He slowly inhales through his nose. Composure, composure. He can do this.

"Your little 'procedure' didn't mend her pain. It concealed it between layers of paper and glue. She still struggled with her gymnastics, still had moments of self-doubt. Eventually, cracks formed in that feeble shell, and you forced her traumatic memories upon her to try and get her to beg for you to 'fix' her again."

Not that Maruki went through any of this yet. Still, he sees no reason to hide it.