That was definitely not the response Declan had expected, though in retrospect he felt like he should have. He doggedly pursued what he perceived to be the right course of action and sometimes that wasn't the same path someone else needed. Mac had similar outbursts, though, and the Titan took the hit without any offense. In fact his expression was infuriatingly gentle and apologetic, accepting that he'd been in the wrong. Still, the comment was curious.
"I'm sure you're meaning in regards to us not having a choice about who we are when resurrected, hm? Because if you mean the lives we had before we were Guardians, I'm only speaking in terms of having already been dead. Not the lack of memory." He huffed a soft sigh, reaching up and rubbing his arm where he'd been hit. It was a gesture more of meaning than comfort; he hardly felt a thing. Though he imagined if Aoba had kicked him instead, he'd have been laid out.
"What if...we had terrible lives?" he asked, tilting his head and sitting up a bit to prop himself on his elbows again. "What if the people chosen were picked very particularly? The Traveler never did anything without deeper intention behind it. What if us being brought back, however shackled or trivial our lives may seem to others, what if we're being given the chances to have lives at all? What if we were wicked people? What if we were chosen to redeem ourselves and take a little darkness out of the world by being pushed into the light? I've had a lot of time to think about these things...though there never seems to be a very good or clear answer to any of the questions asked. But I will say this."
He stopped speaking for a moment, standing upright and turning, looming over Aoba to gaze down upon him with the most sincere expression he'd ever had yet.
"I will never, ever be ungrateful for this life of mine, because without it I know I never would have been in that bar and never would have met you. For as angry or sad as anything might make me about the questions I'll never have the answers to, the question of whether or not my life matters is a resounding yes. Your sheer frustration over all of this erases years of doubt about myself. You don't have to understand, but I want you to know."
no subject
"I'm sure you're meaning in regards to us not having a choice about who we are when resurrected, hm? Because if you mean the lives we had before we were Guardians, I'm only speaking in terms of having already been dead. Not the lack of memory." He huffed a soft sigh, reaching up and rubbing his arm where he'd been hit. It was a gesture more of meaning than comfort; he hardly felt a thing. Though he imagined if Aoba had kicked him instead, he'd have been laid out.
"What if...we had terrible lives?" he asked, tilting his head and sitting up a bit to prop himself on his elbows again. "What if the people chosen were picked very particularly? The Traveler never did anything without deeper intention behind it. What if us being brought back, however shackled or trivial our lives may seem to others, what if we're being given the chances to have lives at all? What if we were wicked people? What if we were chosen to redeem ourselves and take a little darkness out of the world by being pushed into the light? I've had a lot of time to think about these things...though there never seems to be a very good or clear answer to any of the questions asked. But I will say this."
He stopped speaking for a moment, standing upright and turning, looming over Aoba to gaze down upon him with the most sincere expression he'd ever had yet.
"I will never, ever be ungrateful for this life of mine, because without it I know I never would have been in that bar and never would have met you. For as angry or sad as anything might make me about the questions I'll never have the answers to, the question of whether or not my life matters is a resounding yes. Your sheer frustration over all of this erases years of doubt about myself. You don't have to understand, but I want you to know."