#whoo almost 8k words dkjfghkdj

[trouticecream]

Intermission: Old Wounds Reawakened 2/2

The house isn’t much in terms of size or decor–small, cozy, and simple as it may be, neat and clean in a sense–but it’s home and for one reason or another, Ninten has decided to give the weird blonde kid a chance.  To actually let him into his own home, against his deeply pitted gut feelings of unease and decidedly misplaced sense of familiarity, and talk to him about the invasion from about a decade ago.  Supposedly.  He clicks his tongue discontentedly while he lifts a worn tea kettle, steam gently wafting out its silvery spout, before tilting its freshly boiled water into a plain white tea cup with a tightly bound bag of peppermint tea at its center, the fragile string laying flush against the cup’s delicately smoothed edges.  The human man had accepted it in the moment, but that explanation for why this kid–if he’s even a kid at all, outward appearances be damned–had been observing him over the course of several days, doesn’t really feel like it even scratches the surface of the actual truth.  That kid, Gregory, hadn’t really given any obvious reasons–apart from well? the obvious weirdness of following along and watching someone–to suspect anything malicious either though… so he’s kind of a mystery.  One that, against all reason, has admittedly peaked Ninten’s interest though for all his general emotiveness, he remains fairly neutral… for the time-being anyways.

He picks up the teacup by its handle and moves over to the rectangular wooden table–smoothed and polished mahogany set in rounded edges with legs ending in points overtop the immaculate ivory kitchen tiles–where Gregory is seated in a matching chair, as silent as ever with that inscrutable quality to his void gaze.  Ninten sets down the teacup before roughly moving out the chair on the opposing side and sitting at the table himself, a stout shiny red can of a certain popular darkly-coloured soda on his side.

“Here.  You’ve got your dried leaf water… ���er peppermint tea.  You sure you don’t want a soda instead?  It tastes waaaaaaaaaay better than tea, on like every level possible.”

With a deft flick of his index finger, the human man pops open his soda, and hesitates none in greedily guzzling it down, the remainder of his thoughts on the whole matter regarding Gregory almost casually flitting by as he does so.  In a way, there’s a certain kind of thrill to be doing something so outrageous and kinda nuts, if he’s being completely honest with himself.  There’s something so eerie and off about this whole situation, but he’s practically dying of curiousity to see what ends up happening, for better and for worse, anyways.  He’s cautious, of course–he’s not that much of a dumbass; something is clearly off here at the very minimum–but at the same time, he’s kinda a bit nuts himself which in a weird way balances the scales.  Heh.  Must be why Ana and himself make such a great pair; she’s sweet and talented at high class shit like playing the piano and ballet, but when it comes down to it, she can more than handle her fair share of insanity.  Same as Loid and Teddy, though Teddy has always seemed like he can handle insane shit either way.  He makes it about halfway through his soda before a flat, cool voice–a contrast against its unbridled undertones of youth–cuts the effort short.

“No.  I do not have peppermint tea.  Not yet.”

Completely ignoring the human man’s inquiry, the blonde boy rather critically squints, sharply tapping against a blunted nail against the cup a few times as if to further emphasize his displeasure as his mouth curves down just a bit; all too focused on the ‘offense’ of claiming to have tea only for it to be woefully underdeveloped.

“Tea requires time in order to become properly saturated with the flavour of its bagged components.  It is only partially complete with the addition of water.”

Gregory uncomfortably shifts in his seat, gaze shifting between Ninten and the offending beverage while his free hand sporadically fidgets with the end of his yellow turtleneck sweater, and with a short huff telekinetically lifts up the cup to get a closer look at its contents as if to ensure that there are no other flaws, the human’s wording aside, before promptly setting it back down atop the table before him.

“My commendations on switching on a machine to boil water.”

It’s subtle, barely discernible through the flatness of his tone, but he’s being a bit snide.  Yet another inexplicable burst of pettiness that slips out before the disguised alien can even properly parse his options.  He need not have even made that initial commentary on what constitutes tea, but it had come tumbling out anyways, as though drawn magnetically to the human man with force so potent it couldn’t possibly be kept away in the absence of exceedingly extreme measures.

Small fingers tightly press around the cup, as though barely restraining something, as the disguised Psion takes a moment to recenter himself anew.  He needs to get these little… outbursts… under control.  But, somehow against his generally more neutral and analytical approach to most situations, it seems all too easy to let them slip on by.  All too easy when it comes to Ninten.  To someone that, though only important by proxy to the one that has truly earned his loyalty, nonetheless is important in some capacity anyways.  To someone important that he has wronged.  His focus is all too easy to disassemble, cut apart by frazzled, disjunct, and frayed energy that surges through his entire being like electricity, by the slightest provocation; an unusual sensation, choppy even by the already turbulent standards of basic emotion.

He’s nervous.

The thought comes to him suddenly.  An minor epiphany in its own right, albeit not one that eases his turmoil any.  If anything… it makes him even more self-conscious about the whole matter.  Even more aware of how much he is lacking here.  How… ‘upsetting’ the departure from his typically more logical and efficient standard of being actually is, no matter how small or few in kind each deviation.  He straightens up in his chair, creaking it across the floor one or two steps, ultimately determining that regardless of any missteps… he must press on anyways.  To get through this interaction without causing any disproportionate or unnecessary damages.

The tea bag–marinating in the steaming waters this entire time–lights up with a kind of blue luminescence indicative of the disguised alien’s power and twists a few times in the waters across the circumference of the cup before being abruptly tossed into the sink nearby with a moderate thud.  Gregory then lifts the teacup up and takes a slow sip of the peppermint tea.  To soothe.  To calm the figurative knots which had all too quickly formed in the pit of his very being.  To recenter himself–and in doing so, effectively shake off that odd, almost involuntary, bout of what can almost certainly be regarded as self-sabotage plucked from a very dark place–and rectify that particular slippage.  Another slow sip of the tea before his too tight grip on the teacup loosens just a smidge.  He isn’t entirely over his nerves, but just about enough ‘breathing room’ has consequently been opened up, such that he can make an earnest attempt at correcting that poorly-weighted decision.  Success here may not hinge on actually gathering the information about the confrontation at Mt. Itoi’s summit itself, but he would rather not cause any undue distress towards Ninten if he can help it.

“My apologies.  That was…– ‘rude’ of me.  Thank-you for your efforts.”

Gregory shifts uncomfortably, feeling a touch too exposed in a way that he is  neither used to or comfortable with, but ultimately relents that it is something that he just has to get used to anyways… irrespective of how unlike himself it feels.  This is what it means to have and experience emotions after all it is not?  The primary way by which he is separated from the Psion species.  This is what it means to be just a bit ‘human’--courtesy of his adoptive human parents–does it not?

And to the human man’s credit, against the conjecture devised by the disguised alien’s own nerves, he seems to have let that little jab slip off like dust off one’s shoulder.  Sure any kind of jab really–given the human man’s own hot headed nature, no matter how many years pass on by–leaves him feeling a little prickly, bristled like a startled cat, but nothing that he can’t handle.  As such, with little more than a displeased click of his tongue, the human man cuts downing the soda at its halfway point before gruffly putting it back into its original place on the table.  Eyebrows furrow against his watchful expression while calloused fingers tap, almost impatiently, against the table as he puts in some conscious effort towards carefully–blegh, can’t believe that he’d ever even approximate being this close to the very adults he had once dismissed as ‘boring’ as a kid–thinking over his next choice of words.  Obviously, while the weird kid is kiiiiiiiinda right about the tea thing… it doesn’t seem right to get that bent out of shape over it.  It’s the effort that counts right?  Though, even for a jab, it was relatively tame.  The nervousness is pretty palpable, no matter how subdued the blonde kid tries to be though, any further thought over the matter kinda seems to be rendered a waste once the human man receives an apology.

Some tenseness he hadn’t realized was there in his posture–be it from the strain of having to think this over more carefully or more than likely, that tiny kernel of feeling something about the other that puts him on edge, try hard as he may to put it aside–leaves his body, posture relaxing as he almost sheepishly runs a hand through his hair and offers a small yet reassuring smile.

“Jeez.  You don’t need to worry ‘bout something like that.  It’s not a big deal, honest!

If you’re that bent outta shape over it though, maybe we can even things out like an exchange?

I’ll pretend I never heard you make that jab about my tea making skills and in return… you don’t tell my girlfriend that I called tea ‘leaf water’ or thought that just adding water automatically made it ‘tea’… deal?”

Ninten extends out a hand, to take or not depending on the kid’s comfort level, as if to properly seal the proposed deal altogether.  A gesture that Gregory doesn’t quite return albeit not out of coldness so much as it is out of awkwardness.  A sudden pang of uncertainty on what to do and how to approach this exactly.  He squints rather critically at the human man as though trying to figure out some hidden angle to Ninten’s words, only to find none and relent.  But this time, rather than taking the extended hand, Gregory almost protectively cups the scalding teacup and turns his face away.

“I agree to the terms of your proposed arrangement.”

He already has an idea of who this ‘girlfriend’ is.  Ninten must know that Gregory knows it too.  Romance is a bit of a nebulous concept, one that he personally struggles to separate from exceedingly close friendships, but something about it causes his figurative ‘stomach’ to churn.  He isn’t certain as to why that is exactly, but all the same, the disguised alien dares not spend a moment more on the matter before turning back to face the human man with blank neutrality etched into his face.  By then, Ninten had respectfully retracted his hand–utterly unbothered by the unspoken rejection of the gesture–before taking another swig of his soda and pressing his elbows atop the table as he leans in just a bit, that curiousity of his own from before cutting through that backend cautious.

“Anyhoooo… you said that you were curious about that alien invasion from 10 years ago, right?  What didja wanna hear about it?  You probably already know the basic gist of it so, is there anything that you wanted more details on or…–?”

The human man trails off, cutting himself off at that to not only give Gregory a chance to parse out exactly what he wants, but to avoid rambling on and on.  Awkward rambling about the same thing would really cramp his style after all.

Either way, as requested, Gregory takes a moment to think over his next move.  His inquiry to pose to be precise.  He’s hit a snag in his original plans for this excursion after all.  A snag that he had ultimately leaned into in order to make the most of it and perhaps more finally put this whole matter to rest.  After all, a snag or not, this has nonetheless become a good opportunity to gain more clear and concrete answers to the very question that has been burdening his mind over the past few days.  He takes another sip of tea from his cup before neatly placing it atop the table and folding his hands together, fixing Ninten with a level gaze as he does so.

“What was it like to fight against the alien that was responsible for orchestrating the invasion of Earth?  Were you afraid…?”

Straight to the point it seems.  He had considered easing into the topic slowly but perhaps much like Ninten himself in the faintest of ways? it really isn’t his ‘style’ to dance around what he really wants to know with meaningless inquiries padded out by false platitudes to fill in the gaps of such a vacuous approach.  It might seem abrupt, but this ‘feels’ like a good starting point.  One that can effectively establish a reasonable baseline from which Gregory can establish the impact that the first invasion had on him.

A baseline of impact which immediately peeks out, even if likely just a small glimpse into its full format, by the jarring shift in the human man’s demeanor.  Before Ninten had hardly ever deviated much from an amicable and more casual demeanor, ultimately taking everything–no matter how strange this all must be for a human–in stride, but now? he couldn’t help the rather immediate way in which his thick eyebrows shoot up whilst his mouth hangs slightly agape.  Either he’s surprised by the audacity of coming in guns a blazing like that, he’s suddenly hit by the permanent mark that particular encounter had led for a multitude of reasons (and not just because it was a harrowing and utterly terrifying experience overall), or more than likely? a combination of both reasons altogether.  However, being who he is, the human man quickly recovers though rather than assume a more neutral demeanor, he leans into one of his propped up hands overtop the table and frowns just a little as he takes a moment to study Gregory.

Geez.  What a question to ask right off the bat.  Seems that even nerves won’t keep this kid from being so direct and forward huh?  It’s a bit tactless he guesses, but in a way that kind of brashness reminds Ninten of well? himself from when he was a kid.  That’s not necessarily a good thing.  He did a lot of dumb shit because of traits like that, but it’s nonetheless enough to ease away some of that perpetual sense of being on-edge that’s been hovering in the background the whole time.  It might seem a bit odd… a bit nuts if you will… but even if it’s a bit personal to tell a complete stranger, somehow it feels okay to do so anyways.  He leans back into his chair with a slight creak, hands idly falling to a rest atop the table, before awkwardly running a hand through messy black hair anew.  But ah how to tell it?  Putting feelings so complicated into words is a messy affair.  Not his strong suit, strangely enough, despite being someone that’s more or less openly emotive.  But then… that particular confrontation had (again) left a mark in a way that’s not easy to convey to someone that plainly wasn’t there.

Ninten never really had to explain it.  Not even to Ana and Loid.  He didn’t need to.  They just knew because it was something that they had gotten through together… maybe in part because they were all together and cheesy as it sounds, that togetherness is what gave him (and Ana and Loid in turn too, he hopes) the strength to stand against a seemingly unstoppable force like Giegue.  He forces out a puff of air from his mouth, a touch exasperated over this conundrum, before sneaking a glance at Gregory.  Seems that, though the signs of nervousness are still there–maybe even intensified just a bit once the human man lost that more casual demeanor of his–in the way that he taps his teacup when he’s not otherwise downing more of the tea… the blonde kid seems otherwise pretty nonplussed.  As weird as ever.  And maybe because of that, he doesn’t really need to overthink any of this.  He’s just gotta give it his best shot, no matter how messy or disorganized it might come out.  It’s not really his style to sweat small stuff like that anyways.

“Uh.  Okay.  I dunno how to put this in a good way, but basically it was a lot.

The alien guy? his name was “Giegue” and his whole reason for being on Earth was to basically wipe us all out because of something that my great grandfather did.  Something about getting info that the aliens didn’t want him having?

I dunno the details, but basically he got into some shit.”

Ninten pauses, blinking as a sudden realization hits him like a freight train, swearing.  He just swore.  In front of a kid.  Should he be doing that?  Gregory doesn’t seem to be bothered by it and he’s only 21 years old anyways –so he doesn’t need to be that responsible as an adult yet.  And so, barely missing a beat, he presses on.

“And the aliens decided that the best way of dealing with that or doing damage control or whatever was by wiping out all humans.

Me and my friends went through a lot to finally confront Giegue, but when he actually showed up…?”

An intentional pause this time as he encounters some resistance in finishing the thought.  Resistance which the human man conceals by starting on another soda before pressing on, his expression growing more concentrated–indicative of the tense way in which his eyebrows furrow, his more jovial energy giving way to a seriousness that isn’t usually seen in him–and strained against the more casually neutral demeanor he wants to exude.

“….I’m gonna level with you… it was piss-your-pants terrifying.  Straight up the scariest shit I’ve ever had to face down from the crazy powers to the stone cold way he talked about humans and hitting back at my great grandpa for something so dumb.

I’ve never seen anyone that empty, cold, or remorseless about doing something so terrible –not even from the other aliens we had to fight before getting to him.  It was kind of hard to understand and a huge shock at the same time.

It’s a huge part of what made him so scary.  But even though we were all scared, we couldn’t turn away.

We had the fate of humanity figuratively in the palms of our hands.  It was all hanging by our efforts and whether or not we would succeed at the summit of Mt.  Itoi.

We figured out pretty early on that we stood no chance against him, but we still couldn’t turn away.

Strong enough or not, our family, friends, the people of Earth… were counting on us and no matter how scared, hopeless, or hurt anyone was feeling, we knew that we had to persevere until we could figure out a way to win.”

Ninten chugs the remainder of his soda, momentarily considering grabbing yet another one, before deciding that for now he’s had enough.  It’s a big of a mess, even when he’s skimmed over the more complicated feelings–not that those were the exact subject of the question anyways–but he feels a bit less weighed down than before.  Relieved that he’s gotten out the very things that he’s admittedly kind of been lowkey thinking about in the wake of the second invasion.  Now to wrap things up, bring it all back to something more simple.

“So to sum it up? yes it was definitely scary, but not just that.  It felt hopeless at times and kinda crushing from the pressure…”

The human man gestures vaguely as he tries to find his phrasing.

“... the weight of so many lives depending on whether or not we could stop him… but if I had to do it over again, I would.  

My mom always said that people with power have a responsibility to use it to help others or protect them in this case.

I think that it’s why we all were able to withstand that confrontation… because no matter how scared or hopeless we felt, we knew that this was something that only we had the power to actually do.”

And off goes a bit more of that tenseness as he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, almost embarrassed by his own phrasing by the end.  He’s not usually this well? cheesy, but it’s no less important to him.  Nightmare-inducing or not, he’s proud to have made it through and never given up even when things turned out to be way more difficult than brute-forcing enemies in video games.

Gregory, on his part, has managed to remain remarkably still (unnaturally so, like some kind of statue) throughout the majority of Ninten’s answer, only moving to silently sip some more tea from his all too quickly dwindling supply.  It’s a necessary maneuver, one meticulously calculated to maintain a semblance of calm, but one that quickly becomes woefully insufficient when Ninten delves into describing just exactly how awful the Psion’s callous attitude had been.  How despicable his own behaviour truly was; worse than the incorrectness of his mission, he had gone out of his way to demean and belittle the courageous efforts of juveniles that had only wanted to save the people of Earth, their very family and ‘friends’.  How much Ninten’s own mother had influenced his quest and seemingly indomitable will to continue on, no matter how difficult.  Teeth grind from behind his mouth whilst small fingers tighten around the teacup as if somehow that would ease the pressure exuded as an odd sensation violently presses against him.  Overwhelming and inexplicable, red-hot to the touch… far too much for anyone to dare approach, and yet against his best efforts it crashes into him anyways.

Shame.  An emotion raw and true, unfiltered by fuzzy piecework and impressions… it is quite a bit real.  Just as real as the clarity of Ninten, from within his own memories, had been.  The very memory which had spurred him into action… into doing this sort of thing to begin with.  The disguised alien glances down into the remainder of his tea, a murky image reflected back in kind, before he manages to rein it all back in.  No matter what, he cannot falter like that.  Not before the Earth and its life-forms.  Not in front of Ninten.  Doing so would only cause more pain than what excesses he has already inflicted upon the Earth.  And yet… though some of the tenseness leaves his overall body… something remains.

“You have never faltered…?  At all?  Never thought about just trying to save yourself?”

A moment of weakness, but perhaps a bit more permissible compared to the alternative.  An analogue to the same perceived moment of ‘weakness’ Gregory had when halfway through the confrontation on Mt. Itoi, he had submitted (even if for a moment) to feelings he had forgotten he even had in the first place and offered .  In the name of a cherished memory, no matter how distant, he determined that though forsaking his mission was not an option… he could do at least this much.  He could save his only link to her.  Just one person–not to be experimented upon like the others he had abducted earlier on–alone could be explained away to the Psion superiors.

Just Ninten alone.

It’s selfish now.  Just as it was back then.  But then, Gregory himself is a selfish creature; something he is in the process of changing.  A process which, in this particular vein of matters, Ninten has not needed to undergo because the sentiment from a decade now continues to ring true now.  The human man shakes his head, light brown eyes glinting in the same determined way they had back then, and at the speed of a bullet, responds with absolute certainty in his tone as if he too were reliving the same moment Gregory had just replayed in his mind.

“No way.

I’d never abandon people that are counting on me to help them.  

I’d never betray my family and friends like that.”

.

The human man pauses, as if mulling something over, likely in terms of how appropriate it actually is to delve any deeper into it before just pressing on anyways.

“If it came down to it… I think that we all would have kept on fighting and trying to stop him until we uh… couldn’t anymore.

Guess that it’s good that my great grandma gave us a pretty solid hint on stopping him since we couldn’t actually just beat him up like everyone else.”

Another pause.  But this one decidedly more tense as he awkwardly laughs as if trying to break up the damper–not that this conversation was ever going to be any lighter given how many grim things Ninten and everyone else had collectively seen on the journey–he had put on this conversation before sharply snapping to a grimace at the memory of that turning point in the battle against Giegue.  Once so seemingly calm, collected, and prim in demeanor… the alien had quickly devolved into screaming at them and begging for them to stop singing great grandma’s lullaby.  It was terrifying, like anything else about that encounter, and part of him felt a bit bad… but between the fear that constantly threatened to glue each one of them to the spot with no more actions to be taken and the desperation to save everyone, Ninten continued on no matter how progressively awful it felt.  Until Giegue finally gave up, tearing up in a way he had never expected to see, and vowed to return in order to finish what he started.

But Ninten didn’t feel any better about it.

While he had felt nothing, but relief when Giegue left… –so much that his legs had figuratively turned to jelly and he had almost fallen over as a result… it didn’t feel very good.  It didn’t feel like much of a win.  It felt like the three of them had collectively broken something in the alien, without necessarily meaning to, and sent him off the deep end in a way that couldn’t end any way other than putting him in the ground for good.  He taps his foot agitatedly and shakes his head, gaze long since shifted down to the table.

“Tch.  Damn it.  I really wish that had gone differently though…”

Then abruptly, his gaze snaps back up as the realization dawns on him that he had slipped up.  Not the worst possible way to slip up, but nonetheless nothing he had tried to do intentionally.  Before Ninten can even rectify it, Gregory cuts through whatever thoughts may have started to form with renewed sharpness, like a blade through pristine waters.  The Psion had been closely observing the human man this whole time and what had started out as shame and remorse over playing a hand in having him relive an awful memory… quickly swerved to disapproval, the very instant he had detected a perceived wavering of resolve.  Dark blue voids narrow to match the sentiment as a subtle sense of disappointment floods through at the apparent slight to his own perception of the human as a ‘true hero’.

“Do you regret it?  Do you actually regret stopping him?”

Gregory had jumped a bit quickly to conclusions, admittedly, but he couldn’t help it.  This entire topic had thrown his carefully contained control completely out of sorts as alternating emotions of varying intensity battered him one after another.  Ashamed and remorseful as he was… weak as he had been in the moment he had given his prior inquiry… he ultimately understood.  Of course not.  Of course Ninten would not turn his back on the people of Earth to save himself.  None of their group would.  And yet… something about Ninten feeling any remorse–where he should not–strikes a nerve in the disguised alien.  It irks him.  Irks him enough to take a figurative swipe at the human man in return.  

A swipe that earns a swift response in kind.  Admittedly, it agitates Ninten in having hit an especially sore spot–one which like a scab torn off a barely healing wound, had all too easily reopened anew–and it shows in the way he grips the edges of the table as though ready to get up and shoot back just as harshly… before he wills himself to simmer back down.  No use in getting all bent out of shape at some kind.  Tactless as his recent questions have been… it’s not really his fault that this subject is more sore than even Ninten himself had thought.  Time hadn’t really healed that particular wound, but more like it had made the whole thing less noticeable.  Easier to distance himself from.  Easier to water down to a basic story about stopping an invading force.  He forces himself to lean back in his chair, inhaling and exhaling, before resuming a more relaxed (though still ever-so-slightly tense) posture.  The human man shakes his head.

“Ugh –no. It’s just.  Complicated.

Damn… even though Giegue said and did all that terrible shit, I just… I dunno… I felt bad for him.  At just how badly he got messed up by great-grandma’s song.

Bad guy or not, I’ve never wanted to win against anyone that way.  It’s messed up.”

Gregory’s expression contorts suddenly, like an involuntary twitch and into something almost queasy, as he’s hit by a mishmash of that irritation from before–or rather an increase in it–and something distinctly melancholic.  He looks away and off to the immaculate white tiled floors of the kitchen for a moment or two.  Then a slight lapse in the thus far characteristic flatness of his tone and into something almost defeated… despondent, when he deigns to speak again.

“But why…?

Why would you ever ‘feel bad’ for him?

He tried to kill you.  He tried to kill your… ‘friends’.

He would have wiped everyone out if you had not done what you did.

How can you ever overlook something like that enough to ‘feel bad’...?”

A good question.  One that momentarily gives Ninten pause.  He had never really thought about the specifics to his complicated feelings over the whole matter.  They just were.  It’s just how he felt and that was always the end of that.  Wouldn’t anyone else feel that way after inflicting a really deep kind of wound on someone else like that?  He sneaks a glance at Gregory.  Well.  Maybe not everyone.  The blonde kid’s reaction hadn’t gone unnoticed.  It’s a bit of a departure from how self-contained he’s been this entire time.  Like it’s personal or something.  But, it couldn’t be.  Not in the way that it all is for Ninten himself.  Weird as he is… the kid ultimately seems harmless.  Maybe a bit prickly about some things, but nothing too crazy.

All the same, part of him wants to reach out and offer some comfort for whatever it is that’s eating away at the blonde boy, but can’t quite manage to do so for the same reasons that he’s been making all these exceptions in his own conduct here.  The kid gives off a particular sort of vibe in a way that he’s only felt during the invasions.  A vibe that ultimately gets shunted off to the side anew, opting to just mind his own business since Gregory otherwise seems fine.  Not exactly his style when it comes to shit like this, but at this point his options are either to ‘drop it’ or go down the associated rabbit hole.  And for reasons tricky to make out right now, he really doesn’t want to go down that rabbit hole.

So he doesn’t.  The matter is moved aside and he focuses back on the question.

If he can do anything for Gregory at all… anything to maybe lift his spirits… then answering the question just right (albeit honestly) feels like the best way forward.  He taps his chin thoughtfully.  If he really has to delve into why he felt bad for Giegue… if there were any good way of explaining it… that would have a lot to do with just what the song meant exactly.  Why it even worked in the first place.  Even though Giegue was clearly far too gone to be reasoned with–probably even long before that confrontation at Mt. Itoi–in any meaningful way… the song still meant something to him.  Great grandma still meant something to him.  The alien clearly had some shit going on.  He clearly felt conflicted, even if only a little.  The offer to be the only one spared was messed up (and even now it still rubs him the wrong way) but it kinda makes sense in terms of the conflict felt by the alien.  After all, if it was as simple as just getting rid of them all? Ninten is pretty sure that Giegue wouldn’t have even entertained any of the confrontation.

Giegue had been stalling.  Because no matter what he was saying or how he was behaving overall… there was still something more in there.  The part that great grandma loved and the part that definitely loved her back in return.  Giegue was definitely evil at that point.  Not 100% evil, but evil enough to wipe everyone out.  But, if great grandma’s memory of him, the offer Giegue had made, and the impact of great grandma’s song were to convey anything, it’s that he definitely didn’t start out that way.  That, at some point, he was a good person.  That at some point… he was someone that they could have laughed with, stood by, and altogether made many cherished memories with.

And that’s probably why despite everything… Ninten feels bad for him.  Because of how different things could have been if it all hadn’t gotten all messed up.

He runs a hand through messy black hair and almost impatiently taps his foot.  Man what a damn mess.  But, it is what it is.  He hates that saying, but sometimes he’s gotta submit to that basic fact.  Sometimes no amount of bravado will change anything and that’s just how it is, but that’s not this kid’s problem.  So the human man forces a smile in the hopes of lightening the mood a little even though it had inevitably gotten kinda melancholic and grim.

“Heh.  I guess that I just ended up seeing a bit of humanity in him.  It seemed like his heart wasn’t totally in it ‘cuz of how much time he wasted talking to us instead of just y’know–”

Ninten moves a single finger across his throat in a slicing motion.

“--offing us straight off the bat.  I dunno what he’s gone through or what’s changed since my great grandma, but it’s always seemed like if he wasn’t so far gone by the time of the invasion, he could have been a good person.

I think that most people can be.  You just have to uh… –choose to be good.  To make that effort, even when it’s hard and the odds seem stacked against you.”

At that, as if the realization had finally permanently clicked into place for Gregory, the disguised alien is overcome with a sense of relief… at first.  He had received that final bit of confirmation needed that Ninten was indeed okay.  That while the invasion had unmistakably left its mark on him, Ninten had not been broken.  He closes his eyes for a moment, turning back to face forwards, and downs the remainder of his tea.  Of course not.  Someone that courageous and tenacious wouldn’t break so easily.  But more than that, as the relief subsides, the Psion is hit with the sense that the gaping emptiness–left behind by Maria–in his chest had filled in a bit.  As if something had been healed, even if only a little.  An overwhelming feeling of something.  Longing maybe, mixed in with a far deeper sort of realization.  As if he had just received something he had not realized he desperately needed until now.  

Ninten really thought that even at his worst… even after he did all those horrible things… that the Psion himself could be good?

Really…?

He tenses as he feels something beginning to form at the corners of his eyes.  A strange and clear liquid that’s only ever spilled out on one other occasion.  A malfunction, but one that he doesn’t really care about right now.  All this time… he had convinced himself that he did not need anyone’s support.  That he didn’t need to be believed in.  That he had permanently destroyed any remaining connection to be had with Ninten in that confrontation on Mt. Itoi.  But now… well, maybe he has a bit more humanity in him than he initially thought.  There’s more hope in being who he wants to be.  In being good.  He needs only to continue his efforts and never falter, no matter what.  He had come here with a particular mission in mind.  To finally determine whether or not he had ruined Ninten’s life, but it seems that he would be coming out of it with additional reinforcement to his resolve in making it up to the people of Earth, through whatever little he can do now.

Ninten for his part immediately shoots straight up out of his seat, his smile immediately giving way to genuine concern, as he moves to make a beeline for Gregory.

“Woah WOAH… you’re crying!  Did I screw up?  Did I say anything that upset you–”

Gregory sticks a hand out in a ‘stop’ motion before promptly shaking his head.

“No.  It is.  Just.  That.”

A pause to recompose himself, the disguised alien rather neatly wiping off stray tears with the sleeve of his sweater, before pressing on in a more neutral (and less stilted) tone of voice albeit one that’s no less sincere in the sentiment conveyed.

“Thank-you.  For what you did.  Were it not for you and your friends, I would not exist.

You are… a personal hero of mine. I hope that you do not forget it.”

And he means every single word, even if the truest meaning of his words cannot be conveyed to Ninten in full.  Were it not for the method utilized to stop him the first time around–resentful as he had been over it at first–he would not have been reminded of what has always been truly important in his life.  He had forgotten… lost his way… for a bit, but now–rickety, twisted, and littered with many more mistakes as it is–he had found his way back and it is certainly because of Ninten and his friends.  The Psion wishes that he could thank the human man more personally–properly without the charade–but he cannot disrupt Ninten’s life like that.  He’s been selfish enough as is.

As for Ninten himself, well the admission takes him by surprise more than the sudden emoting did and while he’s not entirely convinced that Gregory is okay in general… the kid’s reassurance seems to be made in good faith enough that he decides not to push it.  So instead he focuses back on his words.  The latter bit.  There was sincerity in that and it’s enough to bring a smile back to his face, hand scratching at the back of his neck a bit awkwardly.  For all his confidence, high praise like that leaves him feeling a bit bashful.  There’s just something heartwarming about seeing the people that can continue living their lives–lives that didn’t get cut cruelly short–because of something that Ninten himself had a hand in doing, that really reaffirms that for all the horrors they all had faced, the injuries they had all endured, and the horrible nightmares they all had weeks after the invasion was stopped, it was more than worthwhile.

“Well geez kid… you don’t gotta thank me.  I only did what I thought was right at the time.  If anything, you should probably thank my cousin.  He’s the one that stopped the attack this time around.  But uh.  More permanently I guess.”

Gregory says nothing at first, merely stares as though deliberating something while moving his arm to wipe away at his eyes again, before he abruptly stands up and on moving away from the table, shoves the chair back into place.  His expression is unreadable, but determined.  He can’t say that he entirely agrees that gratitude is undue–the Psion himself rarely ever uses such words after all, only reserved for the most pressing of occasions–but his mind is nonetheless made up about this interaction.  It is done.  Gregory has gotten what he’s wanted out of it and now all that is left to do is to leave Ninten be so that he can live his life in peace.  In turn, Ninten whom had remained standing since he left his seat in a bout of concern merely cocks his head with curiousity before rightening it and putting his own seat back into place as well.

“Soooo I guess that you’re done huh?”

Gregory nods, straightening out the folds of his sweater as he does so, but doesn’t say anything.  He’s not entirely certain on what to say next.  Fortunately, Ninten continues on in his place, moving ahead of him to open the door in advance… only for his hand to just about hover over the doorknob.

“I thought that I was in for a little more, but if you already know the gist of what’s happened, then I guess that there’s not much else to talk about.”

Ninten is hit back anew with that odd yet familiar sensation, but with a burning vengeance, stronger than ever before.  He’s been able to dismiss how off the kid feels a couple of times–mainly by attributing anything unusual by explanations that could realistically fit–but the frequency of the sensation abruptly brings that decision into question in one fell swoop.  Maybe much like the surveillance, it’s an indication that something doesn’t fit.  This could be his last chance to properly figure this kid’s whole deal out and not just unusual traits or quirks that stick out.  

“Before you go, I gotta know something… I’ve been kinda fighting myself on this because I don’t wanna jump to conclusions, but this entire time, I’ve been getting weird vibes from you.  Like you’re not what you appear to be.

I’ve been getting the same feeling from you that I get off of aliens…”

The human man firmly grips the doorknob as Gregory stops just before him and rather blankly stares ahead, dark blue voids only narrowing a bit for a split-second once the word ‘aliens’ comes out.

“...so what I’m trying to loop around to asking is… are you actually an alien?  And if you are, did you really come over just to hear about the confrontation at Mt. Itoi or is there something more to it?”

For a moment or two following that inquiry, silence hangs heavy in the air, the tension over all the unknowns almost palpable before Gregory decides to respond.  It’s almost certainly better to deny everything altogether, but something in him feels that he owes Ninten this much at least.  Especially after making him revisit such a sore topic.

“Yes.  I am indeed not human.  But, I do not mean any harm.”

Ninten relaxes a bit.   Even though there’s a lot of details missing–ones that he figures will mostly stay missing–the sincerity, much like before, comes through clearly.  Especially once Gregory elaborates a little more.

“What happened here is regrettable.

I was hoping to better understand the impact that it had so the consequent data obtained may enable for me to better reverse the damages done.

I apologize for deceiving you.  I did not think that you would entertain my request if you knew that I was not human.  That is why I originally did not approach you directly.”

The disguised alien shuffles a bit uncomfortably, fidgeting with the end of his sweater a bit before forsaking that particular action too and staring straight ahead, somewhat expectantly…

“Okay.  I believe you, but my point from before still sticks here… –sneaking around isn’t the best strategy when it comes to talking to humans y’know?  That causes all kinds of misunderstandings and weirdness ‘cuz then people think you’re up to something bad.

If you ever need to talk to me or anyone else again, just be direct about it, understand?”

And to his credit, the human man seems to take the Psion’s word for it, opening the door shortly after.  Whatever more questions he might have had seem to have been put aside, dismissed as something he’s unlikely to get answers for.  The most important bits have been filled in and it’s clear as day that the alien wants to get going asap.  Gregory offers a nod to Ninten’s words before starting to move.

“I understand.  Goodbye Ninten.”

Gregory steps through the door outside and in an instant teleports out in a flash of blue twinkling light.