young_oldman | IC Inbox: Empatheias

...Emizel accidentally lost his temper, and sent a bolt of energy at you. I didn't see that, but I saw you shaking him, shouting that you were going to make sure you wouldn't be killed. I was there for that part, so I can show you that memory if you need proof of what I'm saying.

Red, I think you had a blackout. It happens when your mind goes through immense stress because something reminded you of a terrible event, one that scarred you in the past and still does. When that happens, it triggers a flashback to that event. Your conscious mind will then shut down to help you cope with the stress; that's why you suffer a memory gap. Meanwhile, your body thinks that it's back in the past, and it reacts aggressively and violently as part of a survival instinct against the perceived threat.

[ Red doesn't speak. Lu Meng finishes and there's the room to do so, but his lips don't twitch, his mind doesn't conjure or search for words in the attempt. It's only the noise of something elsewhere that makes sure that their space isn't entirely devoid of sound, though Red can hear hear his own breathing in his ears.

He's just staring at the ground instead, quiet. What information had begun to go in his head already seems to have left; that, or he just doesn't think to focus on it. What he feels, he can't pinpoint. He isn't trying to figure out of those things.

But there's a heaviness about him that lingers, slowly growing to a point from where Lu Meng had repeated his words. That sticks with him, that he might've said it--he doesn't think to ask for the proof. Hearing the words are bad enough.

His fingers curl into the cup, nail scraping into the side in an uncomfortable, nervous act. ]

[Well, Red takes that news better than Lu Meng did. Lu Meng had outright lost his temper at the doctor...and sent him flying out of the ward when his rage manifested as a blast of energy.]

It can be treated, and you can learn ways to handle and manage your illness. [And Lu Meng uses the word 'illness', not because he wants to coddle Red, but because it is an illness, and like all forms of sickness it'll just get worst the longer it goes untreated.]

You can get better, Red. Maybe not to the way you once were, but the longer you leave this untreated, the worst your symptoms will get.

...Do you want me to clean up the mess I made? I busted that table... I can pay for it if you want. [ ... ] I should.

[ Know what Red would rather talk about, Lu Meng.

Cleaning. ]

Between the table and your wellbeing, I'd be appalled at myself if we started discussing compensation for a table.

Look, Red. I know what happened was terrifying. It's frightening to suddenly wake up and see your friends stare at you with fear and distrust. You don't want to discuss or think about it, and I know it's difficult and I don't want to push this conversation any longer. But the longer you don't get help, the higher the chances that you will eventually hurt someone.

I broke a dear friend's jaw, and I injured Emizel, and attacked Shun and Roxas. I have to live with that for the rest of my life. I don't want you to have to suffer that way.

[ Ah, so Lu Meng doesn't want to talk about cleaning. What a shame.

But it's harder to take anything else more serious in and especially what Lu Meng wants to talk about, the facts that should be shocking barely registering to Red when he hears them. What was supposed to be (and was) a celebratory day has turned into this, and it squeezes at his heart inside his chest.

The paper cup suddenly wastes away halfway then, liquid spilling over Red's hands and onto his trousers and causing him to jump up from his seat. He wipes at it, his other hand balling into a fist around the remnants he still holds before he lets it drop, and he stands there with agitation on his face, a growing spike of irritation worrying him on top of everything else.

Red's silent like that for a while, before his own silence--all of this--becomes too much. ]

I can't do this right now, I just-- I want to see my pokémon. I don't want to think about any of this right now.

[ But while that might be enough, his tongue doesn't seem to want to stop there. ] I ruined his day, Lu Meng. I ruined yours. And because of something I can't remember? How? Who am I turning into?

[ Red shakes his head, wishing instantly he could take back those last words especially, the fear leaking out from him intermingled with worry. He's losing what hold he did have, and he takes a step away from the man. ]

I need to clear my head. Just let me do that.

Alright. I won't pursue the matter any further tonight. But before you go, I just want you to know.

You're not turning into anything. [Lu Meng says calmly, taking out a handkerchief from his pocket and handing it to Red.] This one incident doesn't make you a different person, you're still you. I know you won't be able to accept what I'm saying, but please know that I don't think any worse of you, and I'm not going to change my mind on what I said to you earlier.

[About how Lu Meng thinks Red is a good, caring person. Someone who strives to learn and help the people around him.]

[ Red takes the handkerchief silently but holds it--and fortunately not ruining it--without dabbing it against himself, his attention and concern elsewhere than the wet patch on his clothing. It was on Lu Meng, listening to him, knowing that what he was saying was sincere but being unable to really let it in.

And it wasn't the man's fault. Right then, Red couldn't think of any conversation from before, only a growing want to leave growing in him that was ready to animate his feet if he didn't get to it.

He at least musters a nod before he turns, a wordless thank you to Lu Meng before he's hurrying off with the handkerchief still clutched tightly in his hand. ]

IC Inbox: Empatheias

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