...Because the last time my trust for you buckled, it turned out to be a mistake.
[ It was wrong—whether or not she forgave him for it, even if it's supposedly buried, he can still regret what he did. He could try not to make the same mistake again here. He lets out a deep breath, frowning. ]
So I thought on it and... you were harsh on Yu's killer. [ When they were sitting in front of the effigies, weeks ago. ] And more than anyone else... I did not think your heart would allow you to kill an innocent person without reason. [ On the island, she was willing to die, to destroy his trust—but not kill someone who didn't deserve it. ] It seemed to me that you had no intention of forgiving yourself.
[ How many times had she told him on the island—how desperate was her will to save the weak, even at the cost of herself? Was that really someone who would kill an innocent in cold blood? Ultimately, he had to decide whether he believed in her enough to trust that, and it brought him to a different conclusion. ]
I thought... perhaps you took on that burden for us, to save us. Or that you were obliged to kill due to the rules here.
[ She blinks rapidly very suddenly. Her eyes are bright with tears.
On all accounts, he is not wrong. There's a pang in her chest that has nothing to do with the pain brought by old injuries. It's this part of him that makes him a better person than he thinks he is. He is not faultless, and he is not all goodness, but that he is learning, that he is trying to be better—
Doesn't that say everything?
She blinks back her tears, and she smiles. ]
Yes. [ Her voice is soft. ] When I said it was difficult to accept forgiveness when you don't forgive yourself, I was speaking more than generally.
[ He had every reason to think the worst of her, and she wouldn't blame him for it. The fact that he didn't— That's enough. ]
It's a little bittersweet to see you again. [ To see him here, she means. ] From what I saw, you made a choice, and I respect it.
[ She'd be too much of a hypocrite if she didn't. ]
[ It's not that he didn't feel that familiar pang of anger when he'd heard the news—like maybe she'd deceived him again, and he fell for it, again. But the reality was that through it all, resentful or not... he still trusted her. Shinobu, for her clinical pragmaticism, was not a cold person. His faith never would have held up for someone who didn't care for the people around them, and it's clear above all, she cares so very much.
Too much, maybe.
That empathy makes this place intolerable. The sight of her tears is almost enough to summon some of his own; he coughs once, choked up. He's... really wanted to see everyone again. Despite what happened on the island, seeing the dead, being able to speak like this... it feels an impossible dream. ]
So I'm told.
[ He doesn't exactly remember what happened, but what details he's gotten of his trial seem to point towards his death being voluntary. It's confusing to him, but he's not upset. ]
I think you likely had some impact on that.
[ He doesn't expect her to be proud or guilty—but if he ultimately chose death over revenge, whose influence was that? (This time, facing down his killers, he chose to believe in a kinder ending.) ]
[ Something about this is almost unfair to her, and she doesn't know how to put it into words. She's not even sure she's prepared to string it together in her thoughts. There's a part of her that she shut down, closed off and killed weeks ago.
For someone who's used her death as revenge, what does this say? ]
I should call you a fool.
[ There's no heat or bite in that. She's more at a loss than anything else.
That he would seek anything over revenge had been one of the few hopes she had left. To see it realized at this price is a conflict, but it is their reality and she can't reject it. ]
But I won't.
[ For all the things she could have influenced him to do, this isn't what she expected or wanted, but it's still growth. Death isn't an immediate end here, and she will have to hold the faith that he seems to believe in. ]
[ He is a fool, and this isn't over. But he relaxes a little as she speaks.
Was he braced for her disappointment? Back home, he tries to present as a better, stronger person than he is: the sort of princely leader that everyone has been waiting for. But Shinobu has seen him at his best and worst—not as sovereign to a nation or the last survivor of a tragedy, but as Dimitri himself.
Even so, she doesn't reject him. She goes so far as to thank him for who he is, and he can scarcely fathom it; his expression is open and soft, an exposed nerve. Not happy, and not quite sad, but touched all the same.
Sometimes, all you need to do is be yourself. ]
It's the same for you, Kocho.
[ He has not forgotten the woman on the island who twisted his trust. He's just learned more about her: a Pillar who must protect, a girl who lost her family, a healer who lost something more the day she killed someone who didn't deserve it.
This time, he's the one who reaches out—his touch is not as faint and delicate as hers, but it's enough to gently scoop her hands in his.
Shinobu has never needed anything like a prince, idealized or otherwise. All she wants is to see someone for whom they are, and to her, Dimitri is someone who feels deeply. He's someone who takes his mistakes and wears them as if they're armor, as if that will protect others from how he views himself. He's someone who's been so wounded by being left behind, someone who takes things close to his heart, and he's also someone, for as dark as his thoughts can turn, who can change and wish for a better world.
He's someone who's recognized the things he's done, and more than hurt her—
He takes hold of her hands, and it stuns her for a moment.
It wasn't long ago that she thought anything she could do would only serve to bring him more misery, and for him to say something like that—
He doesn't know how much he's done for her by saying those words. After everything that's happened, something heals and leaves her feeling tender. A smile blooms over her face, slow and sweet and unguarded. ]
I am, too. I'm glad I met you and for the time we've spent together.
[ She curls her fingers around his hands, an affirmation, keeping her grip loose so he can break away with no hassle. ]
... I am happy to be able to speak with you again. Despite all that I've done, I've always cherished your trust. I won't let go of it this time.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
...Because the last time my trust for you buckled, it turned out to be a mistake.
[ It was wrong—whether or not she forgave him for it, even if it's supposedly buried, he can still regret what he did. He could try not to make the same mistake again here. He lets out a deep breath, frowning. ]
So I thought on it and... you were harsh on Yu's killer. [ When they were sitting in front of the effigies, weeks ago. ] And more than anyone else... I did not think your heart would allow you to kill an innocent person without reason. [ On the island, she was willing to die, to destroy his trust—but not kill someone who didn't deserve it. ] It seemed to me that you had no intention of forgiving yourself.
[ How many times had she told him on the island—how desperate was her will to save the weak, even at the cost of herself? Was that really someone who would kill an innocent in cold blood? Ultimately, he had to decide whether he believed in her enough to trust that, and it brought him to a different conclusion. ]
I thought... perhaps you took on that burden for us, to save us. Or that you were obliged to kill due to the rules here.
no subject
On all accounts, he is not wrong. There's a pang in her chest that has nothing to do with the pain brought by old injuries. It's this part of him that makes him a better person than he thinks he is. He is not faultless, and he is not all goodness, but that he is learning, that he is trying to be better—
Doesn't that say everything?
She blinks back her tears, and she smiles. ]
Yes. [ Her voice is soft. ] When I said it was difficult to accept forgiveness when you don't forgive yourself, I was speaking more than generally.
[ He had every reason to think the worst of her, and she wouldn't blame him for it. The fact that he didn't— That's enough. ]
It's a little bittersweet to see you again. [ To see him here, she means. ] From what I saw, you made a choice, and I respect it.
[ She'd be too much of a hypocrite if she didn't. ]
no subject
Too much, maybe.
That empathy makes this place intolerable. The sight of her tears is almost enough to summon some of his own; he coughs once, choked up. He's... really wanted to see everyone again. Despite what happened on the island, seeing the dead, being able to speak like this... it feels an impossible dream. ]
So I'm told.
[ He doesn't exactly remember what happened, but what details he's gotten of his trial seem to point towards his death being voluntary. It's confusing to him, but he's not upset. ]
I think you likely had some impact on that.
[ He doesn't expect her to be proud or guilty—but if he ultimately chose death over revenge, whose influence was that? (This time, facing down his killers, he chose to believe in a kinder ending.) ]
no subject
For someone who's used her death as revenge, what does this say? ]
I should call you a fool.
[ There's no heat or bite in that. She's more at a loss than anything else.
That he would seek anything over revenge had been one of the few hopes she had left. To see it realized at this price is a conflict, but it is their reality and she can't reject it. ]
But I won't.
[ For all the things she could have influenced him to do, this isn't what she expected or wanted, but it's still growth. Death isn't an immediate end here, and she will have to hold the faith that he seems to believe in. ]
Thank you for being you.
no subject
Was he braced for her disappointment? Back home, he tries to present as a better, stronger person than he is: the sort of princely leader that everyone has been waiting for. But Shinobu has seen him at his best and worst—not as sovereign to a nation or the last survivor of a tragedy, but as Dimitri himself.
Even so, she doesn't reject him. She goes so far as to thank him for who he is, and he can scarcely fathom it; his expression is open and soft, an exposed nerve. Not happy, and not quite sad, but touched all the same.
Sometimes, all you need to do is be yourself. ]
It's the same for you, Kocho.
[ He has not forgotten the woman on the island who twisted his trust. He's just learned more about her: a Pillar who must protect, a girl who lost her family, a healer who lost something more the day she killed someone who didn't deserve it.
This time, he's the one who reaches out—his touch is not as faint and delicate as hers, but it's enough to gently scoop her hands in his.
Sincerely, ]
I'm happy to have known you.
no subject
Shinobu has never needed anything like a prince, idealized or otherwise. All she wants is to see someone for whom they are, and to her, Dimitri is someone who feels deeply. He's someone who takes his mistakes and wears them as if they're armor, as if that will protect others from how he views himself. He's someone who's been so wounded by being left behind, someone who takes things close to his heart, and he's also someone, for as dark as his thoughts can turn, who can change and wish for a better world.
He's someone who's recognized the things he's done, and more than hurt her—
He takes hold of her hands, and it stuns her for a moment.
It wasn't long ago that she thought anything she could do would only serve to bring him more misery, and for him to say something like that—
He doesn't know how much he's done for her by saying those words. After everything that's happened, something heals and leaves her feeling tender. A smile blooms over her face, slow and sweet and unguarded. ]
I am, too. I'm glad I met you and for the time we've spent together.
[ She curls her fingers around his hands, an affirmation, keeping her grip loose so he can break away with no hassle. ]
... I am happy to be able to speak with you again. Despite all that I've done, I've always cherished your trust. I won't let go of it this time.