[For some reason, despite coming into this conversation with no idea how she was going to feel or respond to whatever Vergil had to say to her, Kyrie had somehow been expecting honesty and forthrightness. She had expected the facts to be laid before her and in the light of day, she would be given the opportunity to make her decision about Nero's father.
Whatever that was.
She hadn't been expecting quite such a degree of candor, a display of emotion in the matter-of-fact way he puts into words how he feels about his son.
Nero became my world and I have loved him more than I've ever allowed myself to love anyone.
It seems here, for certain, they find common ground.
And she does believe him. She can see, standing like a statue and watching him pour his heart out to her, that this degree of emotion is something he's not used to displaying, he looks uncomfortable and as ready to bolt as she feels and here too is common ground. This is a conversation it would be easier not to have, to build a friendship, a family and pretend this had never happened, but she stands by what she had told Nero the night before. She needed to know. If it had come out later, after she'd allowed herself to welcome him into her heart as family, the hurt would be that much deeper.
And if this whole uncomfortable exchange was just about proving that he was worthy of being Nero's father and proving his love for him, this would be enough. She believes that he is sorry, she believes that he truly and deeply regrets attacking and maiming the man she loves - the man they both love- and leaving him for dead on the garage floor. She believes him and Nero believes him, and honestly having Nero in his corner was a weighty enough endorsement that already strengthened Vergil's footing in this.
But Nero isn't the only person he's hurt. Mutilating him, though it nearly brought Kyrie's world crashing down upon her and came dangerously close to fracturing her heart beyond repair, was really just the tip of the iceberg, wasn't it?
Because there was Red Grave. There were the thousands of people who had been killed - she had listened with growing horror to the news bulletins and tried desperately hard not to dwell, not to picture the worst, not to go out of her mind and continue to put on a brave face for the boys. There was all of that, caused by a demon who had unleashed chaos and death and despair on such a scale that it made what had ruined Fortuna look like a casual mishap. That had been Vergil's handiwork, or at least some part of him. He had accomplished that by tearing off Nero's arm, seizing the Yamato, and quite literally raising hell on earth.
There was no part in his apology about that.
And she understands, because at the heart of it all, in their shared love for Nero, they're both a little selfish. Their worlds are small, and at the center of them both, burning brightly enough for them to revolve around, sits Nero - who would be acutely embarrassed to hear himself described in such terms. That's the crux, he's the glue that is binding them together. Nero loves his father. Kyrie loves Nero. She will never, never ask him to choose between them, she will shoulder even the worst discomfort with a smile on her face if it means his happiness, and she will sit there and hold him together if, for some reason, this whole thing goes horribly awry.
But she still doesn't know who this man is. If he's a man at all.
She knows he's more than a mere man. Sparda wasn't even a man, but where it counted? He was more. Nero is more.
Is Vergil?
The silence draws on, Kyrie realises that he is waiting for her to break the silence and she does, exhaling heavily. She doesn't move from her place, nor make any effort to make herself more comfortable.]
Thank you. Is there anything more you'd like to say?
no subject
Whatever that was.
She hadn't been expecting quite such a degree of candor, a display of emotion in the matter-of-fact way he puts into words how he feels about his son.
Nero became my world and I have loved him more than I've ever allowed myself to love anyone.
It seems here, for certain, they find common ground.
And she does believe him. She can see, standing like a statue and watching him pour his heart out to her, that this degree of emotion is something he's not used to displaying, he looks uncomfortable and as ready to bolt as she feels and here too is common ground. This is a conversation it would be easier not to have, to build a friendship, a family and pretend this had never happened, but she stands by what she had told Nero the night before. She needed to know. If it had come out later, after she'd allowed herself to welcome him into her heart as family, the hurt would be that much deeper.
And if this whole uncomfortable exchange was just about proving that he was worthy of being Nero's father and proving his love for him, this would be enough. She believes that he is sorry, she believes that he truly and deeply regrets attacking and maiming the man she loves - the man they both love- and leaving him for dead on the garage floor. She believes him and Nero believes him, and honestly having Nero in his corner was a weighty enough endorsement that already strengthened Vergil's footing in this.
But Nero isn't the only person he's hurt. Mutilating him, though it nearly brought Kyrie's world crashing down upon her and came dangerously close to fracturing her heart beyond repair, was really just the tip of the iceberg, wasn't it?
Because there was Red Grave. There were the thousands of people who had been killed - she had listened with growing horror to the news bulletins and tried desperately hard not to dwell, not to picture the worst, not to go out of her mind and continue to put on a brave face for the boys. There was all of that, caused by a demon who had unleashed chaos and death and despair on such a scale that it made what had ruined Fortuna look like a casual mishap. That had been Vergil's handiwork, or at least some part of him. He had accomplished that by tearing off Nero's arm, seizing the Yamato, and quite literally raising hell on earth.
There was no part in his apology about that.
And she understands, because at the heart of it all, in their shared love for Nero, they're both a little selfish. Their worlds are small, and at the center of them both, burning brightly enough for them to revolve around, sits Nero - who would be acutely embarrassed to hear himself described in such terms. That's the crux, he's the glue that is binding them together. Nero loves his father. Kyrie loves Nero. She will never, never ask him to choose between them, she will shoulder even the worst discomfort with a smile on her face if it means his happiness, and she will sit there and hold him together if, for some reason, this whole thing goes horribly awry.
But she still doesn't know who this man is. If he's a man at all.
She knows he's more than a mere man. Sparda wasn't even a man, but where it counted? He was more. Nero is more.
Is Vergil?
The silence draws on, Kyrie realises that he is waiting for her to break the silence and she does, exhaling heavily. She doesn't move from her place, nor make any effort to make herself more comfortable.]
Thank you. Is there anything more you'd like to say?