His response almost makes her laugh. The idea that Mizu's robbed Vergil of enough sleep to make a difference is laughable, and he certainly has not run out of tactics to keep her in bed should Mizu resist more strongly than she has. She even enjoys watching him sleep in the morning, so that unimaginative or not, it is a welcome tactic. Such small simple matters shouldn't be enough to pull at her heart, but they are. Mizu knows her bed will still smell of him when she goes to sleep tonight even once all the warmth is gone. He doesn't need to know that she curls up with a blanket that smells of him and holds it close, at least the first night after.
The more serious statement returns her attention to what bothered her before. How rude it is that those memories should disturb her in these moments. Yes, Vergil is older than her, but beyond that, there are few commonalities he shares with Mikio. Mizu refuses to give mind to those thoughts, the ways in which they are different, at this moment with Vergil there with her. She wishes they never pushed themselves into her mind, but she will not give them silent possession of her mind while Vergil is with her.
Mizu could distract herself, lose herself in being with Vergil, and enjoy every moment of it because it is wonderful. The thoughts would only return later, as she well knows, and Mizu wants them gone. As loath as she is to put them to words, something Mizu has never done, it may well be the way to banish them. The fact Vergil shared so deeply of his own pain and trauma, of events far worse than what Mizu has gone through, only provides another reason. He could share that. What are these memories in comparison? People being people, no better or worse than Mizu could expect of them.
"Bad memories," Mizu clarifies. "I told you before about the fire when I was a child and how I wound up on the street afterward. I thought my mother—the woman I thought was my mother—died that day." Died because Mizu left the shack and showed herself. Died because of Mizu. "When I left swordfather for my revenge, I traveled widely across Japan. I stumbled across her selling herself on a bridge."
It was fortuitous for Mizu, who may otherwise have died as one and all refused to help her with her injuries. Except it was also horrible and something she wishes never happened. She'd have survived somehow and without everything that followed.
"I told her I could take care of her. I had money I'd saved, and I'd made money as I traveled, enough for bribes and other expenses. Or I had," Mizu's voice turns bitter, "She spent it all shortly. She asked me to take care of her the way a daughter is expected to take care of her mother." A snort escapes. "This from the woman who told me I always had to live as a man. Except, of course, when it suited her. I felt responsible for what happened to her, her face was covered in burns, and I cared for her, so I agreed.
"Which is how I ended up married to a disgraced samurai in the mountains." At long last, mention of Mikio himself. Mizu pauses there to give Vergil time to digest the information and to react. She pauses to give herself time before she speaks of the relationship she's never spoken of. Married. Mizu'd never said those words out loud before, true as they are.
CW: references to fire, injury/death from fire, sex work, arranged marriage
The more serious statement returns her attention to what bothered her before. How rude it is that those memories should disturb her in these moments. Yes, Vergil is older than her, but beyond that, there are few commonalities he shares with Mikio. Mizu refuses to give mind to those thoughts, the ways in which they are different, at this moment with Vergil there with her. She wishes they never pushed themselves into her mind, but she will not give them silent possession of her mind while Vergil is with her.
Mizu could distract herself, lose herself in being with Vergil, and enjoy every moment of it because it is wonderful. The thoughts would only return later, as she well knows, and Mizu wants them gone. As loath as she is to put them to words, something Mizu has never done, it may well be the way to banish them. The fact Vergil shared so deeply of his own pain and trauma, of events far worse than what Mizu has gone through, only provides another reason. He could share that. What are these memories in comparison? People being people, no better or worse than Mizu could expect of them.
"Bad memories," Mizu clarifies. "I told you before about the fire when I was a child and how I wound up on the street afterward. I thought my mother—the woman I thought was my mother—died that day." Died because Mizu left the shack and showed herself. Died because of Mizu. "When I left swordfather for my revenge, I traveled widely across Japan. I stumbled across her selling herself on a bridge."
It was fortuitous for Mizu, who may otherwise have died as one and all refused to help her with her injuries. Except it was also horrible and something she wishes never happened. She'd have survived somehow and without everything that followed.
"I told her I could take care of her. I had money I'd saved, and I'd made money as I traveled, enough for bribes and other expenses. Or I had," Mizu's voice turns bitter, "She spent it all shortly. She asked me to take care of her the way a daughter is expected to take care of her mother." A snort escapes. "This from the woman who told me I always had to live as a man. Except, of course, when it suited her. I felt responsible for what happened to her, her face was covered in burns, and I cared for her, so I agreed.
"Which is how I ended up married to a disgraced samurai in the mountains." At long last, mention of Mikio himself. Mizu pauses there to give Vergil time to digest the information and to react. She pauses to give herself time before she speaks of the relationship she's never spoken of. Married. Mizu'd never said those words out loud before, true as they are.