Chaoying Psychotherapist [Zhongyingmei]

Cynthia was taken aback by his sudden transformation.

She opened her mouth and found her voice after a while: "Wait...you...are you alright?"

After all, he looked at his embarrassed appearance, then shook his head in a daze and said, "No, it's not."

Bruce looked at her with complex eyes, blue eyes filled with turbulent emotions after being deliberately suppressed - patience, pain, longing, joy...

Also, the dodge when avoiding the problem.

Cynthia's heart sank slowly.

"...you made yourself ill on purpose, didn't you?" she asked softly.

Bruce clasped her hands a little harder.

"Cynthia, I..." he whispered urgently, "I'm just... I'm just too..."

"No, Bruce."

Cynthia turned her head slightly and interrupted him.

"I don't blame you. It's okay, I can understand your thoughts." She said, grabbing her wrist, "Just... let me go first."

For a moment, her thoughts were so disturbed that she even forgot her ability to travel through objects.

With a slight effort, the snow-like white wrist broke free from the hot palm.

Bruce gasped for breath.

His hand subconsciously fished forward a bit, but he didn't touch it, so he retracted restrainedly, and slowly clenched it.

I closed my eyes, trying to look less vulnerable.

Then he heard his own cold and hard voice: "You shouldn't do this."

Cynthia: "... what?"

"You shouldn't..." He paused, "You shouldn't have announced this to the public now, let alone let Stark handle it."

Cynthia floated in front of him, frowning slightly, looked at him, but did not speak.

Bruce pursed his pale lips and added, "This is dangerous."

Cynthia stared at him with silvery eyes, and asked softly: "Then when do you think I should announce it? And who should I call?

"Police? FBI? Gotham Daily? ... or S.H.I.E.L.D.? Captain America? Superman?" She enumerated.

Bruce's brow furrowed.

"No, these... none of these will work." He showed that stubborn and twisted expression again, "You should slow down and make a plan. Not just one, but a backup. If people don't understand what you said If there is a riot at the scene, then—”

"Bruce."

Cynthia cut him off when he was getting more and more anxious.

"First, I have used my ability to lay all the foundations for this press conference. Even if people question it, it is absolutely impossible to find any mistakes-they will only think more and more reasonable. Second... ..."

She sighed.

"The reason why Tony and I suddenly announced that I am not dead at this time is entirely because of you."

She looked at him inquisitively: "I guess...you know this too?"

Bruce pursed his lips, turned his face away, and looked like a stranger.

However, Cynthia clearly saw that the villain on his left shoulder was covering his eyes guiltily and heaved up.

Compared to the awkward look of the big one, it's kind of funny.

So, she couldn't hold back, and let out a muffled laugh at this inappropriate timing.

Bruce: "...?"

Bruce stared confusedly and angrily: "What are you laughing at?"

The villain blasted furiously on his shoulder.

Cynthia: "Hahahahahahahahaha."

Bruce: "..."

Cynthia laughed hard, as if she wanted to vent all the messy emotions in her heart, she laughed until she burst into tears.

"Oh, I can't think of it..." She said intermittently, "I really can't think of it, after I was reborn, the words I said when I first met you...God, this is too..."

She started laughing again, and finally got rid of the unreality brought by the spirit body, and became more alive than ever.

Bruce's anger dissipated, and he looked at her quietly, focused and serious, with brilliance flowing in his blue eyes.

Cynthia gradually calmed down under his gaze, and after a while, she sighed softly.

He raised his hand, hesitated for a while, and put it on his shoulder.

"Just relax," she said. "Stop making yourself so tense all the time, it's not healthy. Also, you almost just told me I should come to you for this."

Reasonableness was written all over Bruce's face.

"Stark is not reliable," he said.

"He is more reliable than people think." Cynthia shrugged.

"He has many enemies."

"A lot of buddies, too. Seriously, why can't you get some buddies?"

"..." Bruce couldn't help retorting, "That's not a partner, it's just a colleague."

After a pause, he said softly, "And I'm looking for it."

Cynthia: "?"

Cynthia: "What?"

Bruce glanced at her and explained: "Since the Great War in New York, I've been investigating things about aliens and superpowers. I've found a lot of people with special abilities, both good and bad.

"Indeed, if the Battle of New York reappears, one person alone will not be able to contend with the enemy. The earth needs a special army. But it is extremely irrational to just put the weight on an alliance. I can't see a super The League - where everyone has the power to destroy humanity - is rotting with monopoly power within and idolatry without, so it's time to form a new coalition."

Having said that, he paused and looked at Cynthia.

"If you add the one you recommended in my dream before (Cynthia coughed), then the most important position in the alliance has also been decided, and the prototype can almost be regarded as formed."

"Wait a minute," said Cynthia, "'most important position'? You mean the president of the league? . . . You're going to recommend Superman for the president of the league?"

"His image fits well. And, I have to say, so does his mind." Bruce gave an odd expression, "I hate to admit it—but upon observation, I find that what he said sounds His 'fair and fair' words are actually his true thoughts."

Cynthia laughed dumbfounded.

"He is indeed a trustworthy person." She said, and asked curiously, "But what position do you put yourself in?"

Bat-like gloomy voice: "I will not participate in too many group activities. At most, I will only be a nominal consultant and provide some methods and plans."

Cynthia raised her eyebrows high.

The desire to control is as strong as he is, will he let go of the alliance he formed?Especially 'Everyone in it has the ability to destroy all mankind'?

She said meaningfully: "Well, let's wait and see."

Bruce didn't seem to know what was going on in her mind, blinked, and said suddenly: "You are the psychiatrist of the Avengers."

Cynthia suddenly had a bad feeling.

"What do you want?" she asked warily.

"No, it's nothing." Bruce said, "The alliance has not yet been formed, and everything considered now is unrealistic."

Cynthia relaxed a bit in doubt.

Bruce: "But one thing is for sure - Superman and I have many different ideas. If nothing else, in order to avoid conflicts within the alliance, I will not participate in group activities in the future, and there will be no so-called 'partners. '."

Cynthia: "..."

"No matter what you say," Cynthia refused with difficulty, "I won't join, thank you."

"Even if it's just a nominal support medical staff?"

"Even if it's just a nominal support medical staff."

Bruce was silent for a while, nodded, and said nothing more.

There was silence in the room for a while, and the unbearable atmosphere at the beginning seemed to rise a little bit.

The two of them stood (floated) and sat, and in front of them was a soft and luxurious four-poster bed, which looked easy to lie on.

And, Cynthia knows it's really good to lie down.

She was made uncomfortable by this feeling, subconsciously floated closer to the window: "I...I have to go..."

"Cynthia."

Bruce looked at her and whispered.

Cynthia stopped reflexively and turned around.

Bruce stood up slowly from the bed, his slender and well-proportioned body suddenly raised up, casting a dark shadow on the bed.

He took half a step forward, stopped hesitantly, pursed his lips, and said in a low voice with difficulty: "...Alfred misses you very much."

Cynthia froze.He opened his mouth, but didn't know what to say.

Bruce had an extremely serious expression, his eyes fixed on the corner of the carpet, as if flowers were about to bloom on it.

"He learned your favorite dessert, and he has always wanted to make it for you." His tone was flat, even mechanical, "All your trophies, medals, and certificates are in the memorial hall. I will Have them give that back to you. The memorial itself is yours, if you want to make any changes, just-"

"——Thank you." Cynthia interrupted him, "I will find a chance to repay these favors and financial resources to you. Of course, thank Afu for me too. I also miss his craftsmanship. If it happens next time, I will visit again...

"...as a friend," she said.

Bruce's expression froze for about two seconds.

Immediately, he lowered his head and retracted the right leg that had been stepped out.

"……it is good."

He murmured, retreating into the deep darkness.

Cynthia looked at him, shook her head, and sighed softly.

"Bruce, I don't blame you," she said, moving closer to him. "I don't blame you. So, you don't need to do this to yourself, let alone make it up to me. I just..."

She paused, and lowered her eyes: "I just feel...that seems to have happened a long time ago."

Bruce nodded and said softly, "You want a fresh start."

"But, Bruce..."

"No." He turned around, the moonlight outside the window outlined the sinuous lines of his back, but could not illuminate his face hidden in the dark at all.

"That's fine. Go start a new life. Don't try to pay back the old one, because you didn't do anything wrong."

He said, slowly lowered his head and clenched his fists.

"……it's all my fault."

it was all your fault.

It's all your fault, Batman.

Cynthia looked at his lonely back, stunned for a while, and frowned: "It's not...it's not your fault. We all know that your choice at that time was the best choice, if it were me—"

Bruce slammed the wall next to him with a loud bang.

"——There shouldn't be that choice at all!"

Cynthia was startled, and opened her eyes wide suddenly, watching him turn back, with a hint of pain in the cobalt blue eyes.

"I should have stopped it, I should have stopped it a long time ago!" Bruce almost gritted his teeth, "I could have listened to you, I could have been by your side, I should have caught the clown long ago — long before he did evil!

"But I didn't. I didn't do anything. It's all my fault... It's all my fault."

"...No no no——" Cynthia finally reflected, shaking her head in confusion, "You can't use the self who knows the conclusion now to criticize the self who knew nothing at the time. No one can know the result in advance. Limited."

"But I can't have limitations, I'm Batman, I'm supposed to—"

Neither Cynthia, who was immersed in emotions, nor Batman, who looked more rational, heard the movement from the stairs.

So, when Alfred pushed open the bedroom door, both of them were taken aback.

Cynthia even jumped half a meter straight up.

Alfred looked at Bruce, whose conversation was interrupted, and then looked up at Cynthia, who was translucent in the air and covered with silver powder: "..."