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“Ah, hmm! That IS an interesting question, isn’t it?! Perhaps in instances like that, the negativity has a hidden element of positivity inside it! Which is the real source of the fun!”

‘How convenient for your argument.’

“Admittedly, I feel a little out of my depth on that one. While I’ve read about those types of feelings, I don’t know if I’ve ever actually experienced that sort of thing, myself. But it does fascinate me! I mean, when you think about it, you’re turning something bad into something good! Isn’t that cool?!”

‘I don’t know if that’s the best way of looking at it.’

“Mm? Why not?”

‘Because a “feeling” of positivity stemming from a negative source is not necessarily a good thing. In fact, it might be quite a terrible thing. For example, the feeling that a bully gets when victimizing someone. The sense of power and control, I mean. That may feel good for the bully, temporarily, but is it a good thing overall? I think not.’

Ibai nodded along. “Fair enough, fair enough. But we’ve also shifted points a bit here, I think. What you’re talking about is someone feeling good from doing a bad thing. What I was talking about was someone feeling good from also feeling bad. Like, say, when you feel really sad about something but then start to feel weirdly kinda good about it, too. Maybe in a self-pitying sense. Which, okay, sure, isn’t necessarily the best thing, either, but... hmm...”

‘I see. I can agree that wallowing in one’s own misery can have a strangely comforting sensation to it. That may even be the driving force behind why it can be difficult to pull oneself out of such states. Because on some level, it feels good to remain there.’

“Yeah!”

‘In which case, your thesis about positivity being good is proven wrong.’

“Oh.” A beat passed. “Whoa, hey, wait a minute. I didn’t say positivity is always good. I said it’s fun!”

‘Oh? Then are you declaring that fun is not always good?’

He was tempted to say yes immediately, but he took a moment to mull it over a bit more, first. Then he nodded again. “Yeah, I think so. Lots of fun things can end up being quite bad in various ways, right?”

For a time, the Weaver said nothing. She merely stared at him from her shadowy corner of the room.

Or at least, that was what it felt like she was doing. It was a little hard to tell if she even had eyeballs with which to stare.