Same, actually!

❤️‍🔥Azkalita: sorry for afk and also more afk after this msg
❤️‍🔥Azkalita: i am called upon to perform righteous violence
❤️‍🔥Azkalita: ...not literal

yoo-min-max: good luck with the bloodbath!

🍸nomu?: may your enemies tremble and cower before your might

He leads her to a very large meeting room, the kind that could seat thirty people comfortably, then stands as far away from her as humanly possible once they're both inside. Even so, she can still feel him, a muted version of what it was like to touch him, pressing on her skin from where he's standing.

Jesus Christ, dude.

...shut up. No spite. He can handle spite, apparently, and it takes a weapon out of her kit but it takes the armor out of his.

She'll helpfully lean against the wall along the longest available axis. She can project her voice through an auditorium, a conference room isn't a problem.

"...why are you an esper?" she asks. "Like, I know that powers are random, but... why be an esper. Instead of doing K-pop or esports or football. I know this doesn't sound relevant."

...this is not anywhere near where he expected this conversation to start.

"I'm the most powerful esper in Korea. I couldn't do K-pop," he says like it's the most self-evident thing in the world. "The dungeons exist, and the world isn't going to be made safer if people like me decide to do something else."

"Cool. So... great power, great responsibility? Doesn't matter what you want, because people need you?"

That question seems incoherent to him. "I want to help people. And I do have a responsibility to help people."

Oh so he's fucked up fucked up.

"Cool. Not really my game, but I respect it. With me, the only thing that could possibly matter for me to be doing is the thing that I do best. I like singing, and I watch anime, and I was a part-time model for a while. That's all stuff I want, stuff I like. But the thing I do is what I do best. That was dancing, because I could dance better than anybody. Now it's the pro esper bit, because so few people can do that. Yeah? And I expect I'll like it, but that doesn't matter. If I didn't like it, that wouldn't matter either. Not until it impacted my performance. Stopped me from getting out of bed. Meant I started taking sloppy risks. Because if your feelings are getting in the way of doing the thing that's most important to you, then you gotta re-evaluate which one is more important to you."

"...okay."

He has no idea how to interact with any of that? Why is she telling him all of this. Like, yeah he does find some of that relatable, but where is she going with it.

"Do you think that refusing to be in the same room with me is going to help you do what is actually important to you?"

She shakes her head. "Let's generalize that, actually, past the topic we've been on. Do you think that operating under a life-threatening amount of backlash helps you more effectively do what is actually important to you? Do you think that having a fatal aneurysm in the middle of a dungeon when you push yourself that little extra bit harder is going to be better for the world and for the people who need you than figuring out how to deal with your issues?"

"It's complicated."

"I... understand that. Not your reasons, but I understand thinking that – your circumstances have to break the rules. Because you're too strong, or because you're too far gone, or. Whatever.

"But the first thing I learned about you is that you saved my life, and the second is that I could help you, and the third is that the medical profession thinks you should've died years ago. And if you had, I'd be dead now too. So I am not going to stop. I am going to find a way to help you, or you are going to tell me why your complicated reasons matter more than... the people who will be less lucky than me."

"...I don't know who told you I should've died years ago but that's not true." Admittedly it might be true of—a different sort of person. But not in principle. He's a case in point, but he doesn't think that was powers lottery, he thinks that was—skill and effort. Anyone could do it, if they had to, if they tried.

"Was that all you had to say?"

"...unless sorry for hitting you with the concentrated emotional blackmail of a million Catholic mothers counts. Because I don't regret it, but I'm sorry."

"...what does that even mean?"

His phone rings.

He looks at it, closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, then opens them again. "I need to take this."

She stops herself from the explanation she intended and nods.

He accepts the call. Were he a normal human with a phone relaying its sound at a normal human volume, Marza would've probably been able to catch it; as it is, it's too soft for her to hear the other side of the conversation. "Guild president-nim," he says, adopting a formal tone of voice and speech pattern. "...yes. Yes, I am aware. I—happened to run into her. ...fine? ...fine." A somewhat longer pause. "Yes, that is correct. Yes—"

(Oh, fucking hell.)

"Yes, I know. I—" Pause. "What do you mean? Yes, of course. Yes, guild president-nim." Another lengthier pause. "Yes, guild president-nim. ...just that it's..." Pause. "Been brought to my attention. ...yes, guild president-nim."

"...I see. And you're sure this is—" Pause. "I see." Pause. "Yes, guild president-nim."

"Yes, guild president-nim."

"No, guild president-nim."