What a terrible thing to watch the light go out of his eyes and the joy bleed from their reunion. Yet it feels natural to the rest of Mizu's life that she cannot have any one moment of pure happiness. That is for other people. The only person who could care for Mizu as she is, angry and vengeful and full of poison, would have as painful a past, as terrible of deeds, and horrors endured others could not imagine. So no matter how she steps, when she wishes to get to know Vergil better, it touches on that terror. What she knows would be enough to break most people, and it is only what Vergil shares easily.
She shuts the door behind them and sits on the coffee table across from Vergil, their knees touching. Mizu sits and waits and makes no other connection between them. Vergil had his reasons for his actions. Mizu's surety in that doesn't waver, no matter how long it takes Vergil to tell her anything about them. The long wait is no measure of trustworthiness or the strength of their relationship. Only a clue to how terrible the situation was for him to have reason. The gap in all Vergil has spoken of to any degree.
Her face stills, her mouth a long flat line. It's the most awkward Vergil has ever spoken with her. It starts and stops, the explanation disjointed. Yet it is immediately obvious why Vergil would fight Mundus, no matter the condition he was in when he fell. The one behind the tragedy that separated his family, that killed his mother and separated him and Dante, that shattered the life he had, mundane and happy. Mizu would do the same, no matter if she won or lost. She did in her own way, attacking Fowler's castle less than a day after defeating the Thousand Claw Army. Fowler shattered her sword, and had Mizu not the fortune to dive out the ninth floor and somehow climb upon the ice and... however that went that she doesn't remember, she too would have been at Fowler's mercy. And dead for it.
So she understands what led to the situation Vergil was in, but there remains many questions, so much unexplained. Vergil was nineteen when he fell, and he's more than twice that now. Mundus took Vergil's sword and...? What did he do to Vergil? Too many things can leave a person dying, and they do not take a decade or two to accomplish. If the point were merely Vergil's death, then he would certainly be dead. Vergil avoids it entirely, and Mizu does not ask. The questions burn inside her, but she stays true to her word (not for the sake of honor but because she said what she meant to Vergil).
Mizu frowns slightly at the next gap in Vergil's explanation. He was dying, and for some reason, the way to survive was to remove his humanity—that reference Thirteen made in his profile. For all Vergil sought power, she doubts he would cut out his humanity simply to gain more power. It was to live, but why? What happened to him that was so terrible that to remain himself would kill him?
He doesn't look at her, so Vergil doesn't see the series of faces she makes between the confusion at the lack of details to the understanding of how terrible those gaps must have been. Then, of course, there's the matter of the Yamato. It's the point upon which this explanation rests, the tool by which Vergil can save himself. Mizu has no idea how it went from Mundus's possession to... some unclear relationship to Nero's arm.
"You needed the Yamato," Mizu summarizes and prompts Vergil, without commenting on the rest, despite the questions burning within her yearning for answers no matter how terrible those answers may be. Mizu would rather know than remain in ignorance. If Vergil can bear to state it. "Then what?"
Focus on the part Vergil can talk about. He has to get them the rest of the way there. Mizu breathes evenly, calm as best she can, no matter the anger in her own heart, the desire to kill Mundus then and there. To protect Vergil in ways she cannot. The past has already happened.
no subject
She shuts the door behind them and sits on the coffee table across from Vergil, their knees touching. Mizu sits and waits and makes no other connection between them. Vergil had his reasons for his actions. Mizu's surety in that doesn't waver, no matter how long it takes Vergil to tell her anything about them. The long wait is no measure of trustworthiness or the strength of their relationship. Only a clue to how terrible the situation was for him to have reason. The gap in all Vergil has spoken of to any degree.
Her face stills, her mouth a long flat line. It's the most awkward Vergil has ever spoken with her. It starts and stops, the explanation disjointed. Yet it is immediately obvious why Vergil would fight Mundus, no matter the condition he was in when he fell. The one behind the tragedy that separated his family, that killed his mother and separated him and Dante, that shattered the life he had, mundane and happy. Mizu would do the same, no matter if she won or lost. She did in her own way, attacking Fowler's castle less than a day after defeating the Thousand Claw Army. Fowler shattered her sword, and had Mizu not the fortune to dive out the ninth floor and somehow climb upon the ice and... however that went that she doesn't remember, she too would have been at Fowler's mercy. And dead for it.
So she understands what led to the situation Vergil was in, but there remains many questions, so much unexplained. Vergil was nineteen when he fell, and he's more than twice that now. Mundus took Vergil's sword and...? What did he do to Vergil? Too many things can leave a person dying, and they do not take a decade or two to accomplish. If the point were merely Vergil's death, then he would certainly be dead. Vergil avoids it entirely, and Mizu does not ask. The questions burn inside her, but she stays true to her word (not for the sake of honor but because she said what she meant to Vergil).
Mizu frowns slightly at the next gap in Vergil's explanation. He was dying, and for some reason, the way to survive was to remove his humanity—that reference Thirteen made in his profile. For all Vergil sought power, she doubts he would cut out his humanity simply to gain more power. It was to live, but why? What happened to him that was so terrible that to remain himself would kill him?
He doesn't look at her, so Vergil doesn't see the series of faces she makes between the confusion at the lack of details to the understanding of how terrible those gaps must have been. Then, of course, there's the matter of the Yamato. It's the point upon which this explanation rests, the tool by which Vergil can save himself. Mizu has no idea how it went from Mundus's possession to... some unclear relationship to Nero's arm.
"You needed the Yamato," Mizu summarizes and prompts Vergil, without commenting on the rest, despite the questions burning within her yearning for answers no matter how terrible those answers may be. Mizu would rather know than remain in ignorance. If Vergil can bear to state it. "Then what?"
Focus on the part Vergil can talk about. He has to get them the rest of the way there. Mizu breathes evenly, calm as best she can, no matter the anger in her own heart, the desire to kill Mundus then and there. To protect Vergil in ways she cannot. The past has already happened.