[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/5FqwUwv.jpg?1[/img]
[h3][b][color=00aeef]Chinami Nadakai[/color][/b][/h3][/center]

Dr. Nightman -rather tactfully, Chinami thought- seemed to completely ignore the whole "king complex" thing. Probably a good idea all things considered; that was some lofty and overarching ambition to poke at, and someone who actually had some implied inkling that they thought they could obtain it was quite likely to be... [i]passionate[/i] in that conviction. It was also, notably, one of -if not the only- aspect of the boy's speech that he did not offer some platitude or counterstatement for. He wanted the throne of Izumo, unironically, and he seemed to think he actually had a chance.

[color=00aeef][i]Dangerous.[/i][/color]

Dr. Nightman instead focused on the topic of betrayal, and -given what his letter had proven he knew about her- Chinami was inclined to think he wasn't tossing around theoreticals in regards to betrayal and even threats on the boy's life. With the context that he was supposedly a potential inheritor for the Izumo throne and Doctor's lack of contesting that statement, it was easy to assume that the boy could have suffered assassination attempts in the past... understandably so if his ambition was so lofty. Honestly, if the boy were instead content to live quietly like that one prince from Vauquelin whose name was escaping her, then perhaps he wouldn't need to be so paranoid. What it boiled down to in the end was that his need for paranoia was likely in large part entirely his own fault, assuming he was such a loudmouth about his ambitions elsewhere.

Of course, Nightman's words and tone -as graceful as they were in the face of potential bodily harm- were merely ultimately a deflection, one the boy seemed to insist on bulling through, as he pursued the "reviews" topic. Chinami would personally admit to a certain level of burning curiosity on that matter as well. Certainly, in the boy's place, she might had pursed that line of questioning just as doggedly. Just...

She would have avoided incriminating statements like this yahoo was throwing around.

One forearm lain over her eyes, Chinami let out an extended whine of a groan in second-hand embarrassment, listening to this warped funhouse mirror of a person, as the boy started going on about some ridiculous "protagonist syndrome" while making absurd and frankly untrue statements about what he'd rather do than harm his "friends". If he really [i]was[/i] in possession of such a mindset, the last thing he'd be truly concerned about, at the end of the day, was the feelings and concerns of others. "Protagonist" did not necessarily mean "hero", but this guy -the way he talked- seemed to believe that was the case. Granted, if his delusion centered around being a "hero", then he'd be unable to uphold that delusion -even for himself- if he didn't at least pretend to care about others. At the end of the day, it was all self-serving bullshit; after all, part of his narcissistic gratification as a "hero" was "helping" others to begin with. The only reason he cared was because it made him look like more of a "heroic savior" and gave him more chances to have praise and adulation leveled his way to feed his ego and confirm his bias.

He wasn't apologetic about his faults. He was merely pretending to be, simply because that made him look better, look like some sort of "tragic hero" trope who was "struggling against inner darkness". He was a [i]snake[/i], a social chameleon, who said whatever he thought others wanted to hear while pretending that he was someone that didn't give a rip about the opinions of others. The only reason he was being so bold with the doctor was that he was saying what he thought the Doctor wanted to hear. The reason it all sounded so disjointed was that this little snake was out of his normal depth, and he was stabbing about verbally to see what stuck, to test the social waters and determine how he'd have to tailor his approach.

He was scared. He had to be. That was why he was making such reckless threats. She could even sympathize in that respect. If she, herself, wasn't so rational and fully committed to filtering her rage and fear through the lens of "will this ruin my future prospects", she might have fallen into the same trap of her own making.

She bodily [i]cringed[/i] when he threatened the Doctor overtly again and began to glow gold, for more than one reason. It wasn't just the threats themselves that offended her; it was the [i]way[/i] he was going about them. Threats were only good if you upheld them, and he had already failed to uphold the conditions of his first one, reducing the credibility of any future ones, no matter how tough a front he put up. His genuine fear and weakness was obvious to even the halfway socially adept. And furthermore, the questions he wanted answers to were somewhat useless. There was no way to prove them right here and now, and worse, there was no telling what the Doctor's Gift was.

The unknown Gift, assuming he had one. That was Chinami's true concern. Everything else was secondary. Was it spiritual? Was it magic? Was it just straight-up a mysteriously unique divine system of influence in and of itself like her own? With her own "Gift" as the comparison, it was easy for Chinami to be incredibly open-minded and paranoid about the possibilities available to any given opponent. More than anything else about a potential confrontation, this was her concern, the idea that the Doctor would have a Gift, one that struck at her own "Gift's" weaknesses.

The fact the Doctor still seemed quite unconcerned where he sat nonplussed did not help her somewhat reduced anxiety. Dr. Nightman actually addressing [i]exactly that concern[/i] of "anyone being a potential threat" right after didn't sooth her either. Nightman claimed he'd been doing this a while, effectively that he'd "seen some shit", which in all honesty could very well explain how blasé he was being about all this. He simply wasn't intimidated, full stop, or if he was, his poker face was truly one to be respected.

The boy seemed to finally get a clue that this wasn't going to end in his favor and backed down, making some last empty concessions and apparently trying to turn things instead into a conversation between "equals" with a relationship of "cooperation and collaboration". Too late. [i]Far[/i] too late. His threats had been empty. His momentum had been lost. He hadn't discovered what his potential enemy's Gift was -or even if they had one at all. His opponent had effectively styled all over him the entire way through and might as well have t-bagged him socially. Truly, the power of an experienced psychologist in their element was one to be feared.

It was the verbal equivalent of watching a soldier halfway through the training program try to spar a decorated general and seriously expect to win. You never fought an enemy in their element, and the little snake was too inexperienced to realize that he'd played into the Doctor's hands every step of the way. Chinami, for her part, had recognized the futility of such a thing from the nearly the very start and had set about trying to change the game preemptively, not that it looked like her efforts would be necessary.

If there was one thing her observations here had fully crystalized, it was the resolve to never meet Nightman face-to-face, nor to so much as engage him in conversation. As things were, she could... believe that he wasn't an enemy, not an actively malicious one anyway, but if she played his game, he could make things very annoying for her indeed.

[@KillamriX88] [@Letter Bee] [@Dezuel]