[she hears that, and it's like a shard of glass in her stomach, twisting hard. she's explaining this all wrong - but how is she supposed to do it, when it requires a deep understanding that she knows she's the lynchpin to a few key things, that her being there as a support was necessary even when she wanted to scream and cry and hit things, that she had to breathe and be calm and be a rock even when she feels eroded by everything around her. if she collapses, who will support Goro, Izo, Andy herself? who will stop Nishitani from bleeding out in some alleyway when he's near death? who will fix the lost causes, keep this place afloat so people have sanctuary without judgement, find ways of easing even what hangs heavy on the mind?

if she collapses, who will fix all the mistakes she made as ◼◼◼◼◼? atonement is hard, thankless work. this way of life is utterly without merit. she does not do this for thanks, for consideration, even as she takes an amount from gratitude. she does it because she has to, or she is nothing more than the lowest scum there is. there's no room for the self in that. even the people she loves don't understand that, because there is no way to express it without burdening them. and they carry so, so much, so much that pains them, tears at them, leaves gaping wounds that should be shielded-

oh, god. all of these thoughts, they cycle around herself. selfish, selfish woman. even in trying to deflect it, it's about her, isn't it. why does she keep doing this.

she doesn't realize she set the food down until she breathes, softly.]

You don't have anything to apologize for, Andy. I know you're saying it because you mean it. Because you care. Please don't think that's overlooked at all.

[she should be the one apologizing. the woman came in here after risking her life with nothing more than a friendly suggestion, and Emily's thrown it in her face as if it couldn't possibly be so.

even if that's the case, there's always a way to be better about it. stupid, stupid.]