Logic does not batter back emotions, and Vergil's response reflects that. Mizu lowers her hands and does not hold onto Vergil when he does not want it. It only feels fair that he should say her name that way. How different can it feel to be the one left behind? That's not what Vergil's upset about, but she can imagine frustration that does not aim at himself. There will be time for that. Vergil's hurt, still, and there may be no hurt for this injury if even Nero cannot mend it. Certainly Mizu cannot fix such a wound.
She listens. Of course part of him wished to stay. Mizu assumed as much from the way he spoke about his time there, about the relationship he forged. It would be stranger if such feeling did not form in his heart, an impurity to his purpose. It could make his resolution bitter, or it could make him stronger. From all Mizu knows of Vergil, she'd say it was an impurity in the right place. She could even go so far as to say it's what saved him from shattering a second time, what allowed him to pull himself together again and become who he is.
His need for survival may have doomed families who did nothing more than take in and care for an orphaned child, but Mizu feels no pity for them. By Vergil's own words, people stopped taking him in once he got a little older. People whose kindness does not extend to an older child are not that good. Their deaths do not sit with her, not even if every last family that helped Vergil died. The shame is that those who refused to help him didn't die as well.
Both options Vergil faced sparked fear of weakness. Too weak to leave, too weak to stay. He knew the target he'd place on Beatrice's back if he stayed, and he thought he might be too weak to protect her. The very issue Mizu raised by suggesting he could have brought demons to her. She grimaces a little because she did not mean to call Vergil weak. The fear was logical, however. All his father's strength failed to prevent the calamity that orphaned Vergil and Dante. He sought that power, to be as powerful as his father, to be more powerful. How powerful does he need to be to feel capable of protecting those he loves? Mizu isn't sure, but Nero has power aplenty in his own right.
"Regret it," Mizu says and accepts that he will. "So long as you don't let that regret drive you to further regrets. Make it strengthen you, not weaken you."
Mizu should have seen through her mother from the moment she saw the woman alive and well. She abandoned Mizu and never came searching for her. The woman only saw Mizu back to health for the security and regular access to drugs it could bring. She never should have married Mikio for her mother's sake. Perhaps if she saw through her, Mizu would spend her life wondering how it might have been. If it might have been what she wanted, but she knows now it wasn't. It never could have been.
If only she and Vergil had the opportunity outside Folkmore—
No point wishing for what she saw on the train, that perfect life that offered her everything. Mizu is not the sort of person who can get what she wants.
no subject
She listens. Of course part of him wished to stay. Mizu assumed as much from the way he spoke about his time there, about the relationship he forged. It would be stranger if such feeling did not form in his heart, an impurity to his purpose. It could make his resolution bitter, or it could make him stronger. From all Mizu knows of Vergil, she'd say it was an impurity in the right place. She could even go so far as to say it's what saved him from shattering a second time, what allowed him to pull himself together again and become who he is.
His need for survival may have doomed families who did nothing more than take in and care for an orphaned child, but Mizu feels no pity for them. By Vergil's own words, people stopped taking him in once he got a little older. People whose kindness does not extend to an older child are not that good. Their deaths do not sit with her, not even if every last family that helped Vergil died. The shame is that those who refused to help him didn't die as well.
Both options Vergil faced sparked fear of weakness. Too weak to leave, too weak to stay. He knew the target he'd place on Beatrice's back if he stayed, and he thought he might be too weak to protect her. The very issue Mizu raised by suggesting he could have brought demons to her. She grimaces a little because she did not mean to call Vergil weak. The fear was logical, however. All his father's strength failed to prevent the calamity that orphaned Vergil and Dante. He sought that power, to be as powerful as his father, to be more powerful. How powerful does he need to be to feel capable of protecting those he loves? Mizu isn't sure, but Nero has power aplenty in his own right.
"Regret it," Mizu says and accepts that he will. "So long as you don't let that regret drive you to further regrets. Make it strengthen you, not weaken you."
Mizu should have seen through her mother from the moment she saw the woman alive and well. She abandoned Mizu and never came searching for her. The woman only saw Mizu back to health for the security and regular access to drugs it could bring. She never should have married Mikio for her mother's sake. Perhaps if she saw through her, Mizu would spend her life wondering how it might have been. If it might have been what she wanted, but she knows now it wasn't. It never could have been.
If only she and Vergil had the opportunity outside Folkmore—
No point wishing for what she saw on the train, that perfect life that offered her everything. Mizu is not the sort of person who can get what she wants.