Not quite a shout, but the words still cut like freshly-broken glass and Jigano flinched from them. From the honesty in them, because he had only meant to treat her as a less experienced team member learning a lesson that could be life-threatening in future delves... but to her, to anyone else on Caido, was there any difference between 'less experienced' and 'a child?'
Or was it simply that he didn't know how to split the difference between the two?
She was angry, fierce and bright and burning like a wildfire as he looked up at her. He had caused this hurt, this anger - not once, no, but a dozen times. A hundred. how many more? How many little cuts and digs and wounds had he caused her before this one finally broke the dam? But she had wanted honesty, and now she was angry because misquoted her. "That doesn't answer my question," he said, letting some of his frustration bubble up for once. Not hiding it. Not giving in to anger, either, nor not letting it control him. But letting her see it. "What am I supposed to think when you say 'maybe I won't come with you' instead of 'leave without me next time'? It sounds like you don't want to be there with me, but you want me to be the one who leaves, when that's the last thing I want." She held him to the fire and nothing he said would change things. A hollow pit in his stomach knew that now for certain. If he apologized and said she was right and he was sorry then she would - rightly - accuse him of avoiding the conversation.
If he tried to explain himself any defense or protest would only drive her further away.
She listed her virtues and his heart ached for the strengths she found in anger that she was blind to otherwise. No, she had never left him before. Never threatened to leave him, before today. Or rather, never tried to get him to leave without her. Because if he did then he would be the bad guy, and it wouldn't be her fault, would it? Except that he was done with being the villain. He was done with leaving people behind.
"No," he said quietly, "You never have." That was the truth, and he would not deny it just to give her the fight she seemed to want. He had spent a year telling her she was strong and loyal, brave and true. Had he also spent a year breaking her down in small ways and large, chipping away at the very foundations he was trying to help her build with every criticism and every fear? And through it all, she had given him her everything, often at his request, though he patently didn't deserve it.
And there it was. The crux of it. The truth of it. Jigano bowed his head and exhaled slowly as the last blade sunk deep and drew blood. "Tell me how," he said softly, closing his eyes tight for a moment against the pain of her honesty before he raised his head to look at her again. "What have I said, what have I done, to make you feel that way?" He needed to know. To hear it from her, as he had heard it from Remi. He needed her to lance the festering infection that he had laid in her heart and let it all out, even if it hurt them both. And maybe, this time, she wouldn't give him what he asked for,
But he had to try.
Or was it simply that he didn't know how to split the difference between the two?
She was angry, fierce and bright and burning like a wildfire as he looked up at her. He had caused this hurt, this anger - not once, no, but a dozen times. A hundred. how many more? How many little cuts and digs and wounds had he caused her before this one finally broke the dam? But she had wanted honesty, and now she was angry because misquoted her. "That doesn't answer my question," he said, letting some of his frustration bubble up for once. Not hiding it. Not giving in to anger, either, nor not letting it control him. But letting her see it. "What am I supposed to think when you say 'maybe I won't come with you' instead of 'leave without me next time'? It sounds like you don't want to be there with me, but you want me to be the one who leaves, when that's the last thing I want." She held him to the fire and nothing he said would change things. A hollow pit in his stomach knew that now for certain. If he apologized and said she was right and he was sorry then she would - rightly - accuse him of avoiding the conversation.
If he tried to explain himself any defense or protest would only drive her further away.
She listed her virtues and his heart ached for the strengths she found in anger that she was blind to otherwise. No, she had never left him before. Never threatened to leave him, before today. Or rather, never tried to get him to leave without her. Because if he did then he would be the bad guy, and it wouldn't be her fault, would it? Except that he was done with being the villain. He was done with leaving people behind.
"No," he said quietly, "You never have." That was the truth, and he would not deny it just to give her the fight she seemed to want. He had spent a year telling her she was strong and loyal, brave and true. Had he also spent a year breaking her down in small ways and large, chipping away at the very foundations he was trying to help her build with every criticism and every fear? And through it all, she had given him her everything, often at his request, though he patently didn't deserve it.
And there it was. The crux of it. The truth of it. Jigano bowed his head and exhaled slowly as the last blade sunk deep and drew blood. "Tell me how," he said softly, closing his eyes tight for a moment against the pain of her honesty before he raised his head to look at her again. "What have I said, what have I done, to make you feel that way?" He needed to know. To hear it from her, as he had heard it from Remi. He needed her to lance the festering infection that he had laid in her heart and let it all out, even if it hurt them both. And maybe, this time, she wouldn't give him what he asked for,
But he had to try.
