["...an obstacle standing in the way of my survival."
How strange, Kyrie thinks, that someone can look at another person and think of them not as a being with a soul and hopes and dreams and a will to live, but as an obstacle. It's even stranger to her that someone could think that way about Nero, the strongest person she knows. To just overlook him like that... how strong must Vergil be to be that assured of his own prowess, even while dying?
She knows. She knows from the stains she still can't scrub from the concrete even after months and buckets of bleach.
How broken a soul was he for him to admit that even if he had known Nero's relation to him, it would have likely made little difference to him?
It feels strangely impersonal and detached from the situation to be standing away from him but she's frozen where she stands, listening intently, her own expression schooled into as calm a face as she can muster. So much of what he says makes her blood boil and her fingers curl up into fists, the edges of her nails digging into her palms to keep her from breaking her word and interjecting in her anger.
He says he knows what it is to lose a love one. To feel alone. She's fortunate that through all her losses, through each heartbreak she's had to face in her life, she's never been alone. She's always had that one constant by her side from the time they were very small, always looking out for her, always protecting her and soothing away her pain. The pain of losing her parents, losing Credo, Nero's been with her throughout it all. And it's not just her, he's been there for their foster boys, for Kyle and Julio and Carlo. He's their hero. Their funny little found family depends on him as the protector, the goofball with terrible jokes, the one who throws a ball about in the yard, the one who checks for monsters under Julio's bed and promises to take out anything that comes out of the shadows. How would those children cope losing another parental figure? Kyrie's lived through that pain Vergil speaks of before, but it's only because of Nero that she's been able to survive it.
She still feels sick to the stomach at the thought of having to endure that agony without him.
True to her word, she holds her tongue and her place and continues to watch Vergil, waiting to hear if there's more to come.]
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How strange, Kyrie thinks, that someone can look at another person and think of them not as a being with a soul and hopes and dreams and a will to live, but as an obstacle. It's even stranger to her that someone could think that way about Nero, the strongest person she knows. To just overlook him like that... how strong must Vergil be to be that assured of his own prowess, even while dying?
She knows. She knows from the stains she still can't scrub from the concrete even after months and buckets of bleach.
How broken a soul was he for him to admit that even if he had known Nero's relation to him, it would have likely made little difference to him?
It feels strangely impersonal and detached from the situation to be standing away from him but she's frozen where she stands, listening intently, her own expression schooled into as calm a face as she can muster. So much of what he says makes her blood boil and her fingers curl up into fists, the edges of her nails digging into her palms to keep her from breaking her word and interjecting in her anger.
He says he knows what it is to lose a love one. To feel alone. She's fortunate that through all her losses, through each heartbreak she's had to face in her life, she's never been alone. She's always had that one constant by her side from the time they were very small, always looking out for her, always protecting her and soothing away her pain. The pain of losing her parents, losing Credo, Nero's been with her throughout it all. And it's not just her, he's been there for their foster boys, for Kyle and Julio and Carlo. He's their hero. Their funny little found family depends on him as the protector, the goofball with terrible jokes, the one who throws a ball about in the yard, the one who checks for monsters under Julio's bed and promises to take out anything that comes out of the shadows. How would those children cope losing another parental figure? Kyrie's lived through that pain Vergil speaks of before, but it's only because of Nero that she's been able to survive it.
She still feels sick to the stomach at the thought of having to endure that agony without him.
True to her word, she holds her tongue and her place and continues to watch Vergil, waiting to hear if there's more to come.]