it's just the rain that wasn't brave enough to fall (closed + open)

[antimetabole]

WHO: Vergil + others
WHEN: Between missions 12 & 13
WHERE: Various locations
WHAT: Some emotional talks. Some yeeting of children. It's a little bit of everything.
NOTES\WARNINGS: No open prompts this go around I LIED one open prompt as of yet, but if you are wanting something particular, feel free to slap down a starter or request one. I will match prose vs. brackets because it doesn't matter to me. There will be discussions pertaining to complex family dynamics (particularly between siblings) that may also further include topics such as loss/death of parents and/or siblings, assumed fratricide (of the accidental variety), and grief pertaining to aforementioned losses. Warnings will be in headers, but will update this as able to/needed!

↪ kyoko
↪ mizu
↪ dante
↪ open

Comments

[artofrevenge]

It isn't easy to change or to demonstrate change in a clear way to someone. Mizu knows that too well from making her own mistake with Vergil. It came up in their first conversation after some time apart. Mizu said the right things, but words are not enough. Words are a step, a sign things may be going in the right direction, but at the end of the day, it's actions. It's something happening and going differently than before that shows it. Simple to say, but not easy to do. Mizu and Vergil's history isn't as long as Vergil and Dante's, but her reflection showed her it happened before, not only with Vergil. It's a dumb habit of hers that Mizu doesn't entirely understand why she did. It only seems likely to get her hurt more, as well as other people. However, aware of it, she's pushing ahead.

There's many places Vergil could start, and Mizu doesn't know which would be the best, whether the easiest for him to change or the most meaningful to Dante. However large the gulf is with Dante, the steps are the same. That's a small blessing. It could be as simple as how he handles Dante's jokes. They aren't the be all end all of the relationship. Treating it that way, continuing to be there for him, even when he's an ass, that goes a long way, Mizu thinks.

Vergil takes more space, and Mizu turns to rest against the counter so she can face him. The broth seems fine, not needing attention. Nothing they're prepping does. Dante's more important. Vergil figuring it out is more important. She meets his gaze without judgment (she's an idiot at least as often as him) and waits. She takes even breaths, even as his expression pains her. Her heart aches, and she pauses a moment—

Then Mizu crosses the kitchen and pulls Vergil into her arms. Holding him tight, Mizu kisses his temple and strokes one hand down the nape of his neck. "Breathe. Breathe."

He doesn't say what the mistake is, but Mizu can guess. He's removed himself from their apartment to be here and to have space, however little, from Dante. He got hurt, he got scared, he felt abandoned, and he turned away from Dante instead of continuing to hold out his hand. It's so easy to understand, and it's so hard to take the risk, the pain, of reaching out when it seems Dante's slapped him away. Mizu doesn't think Dante did. He was just an idiot of his usual flavor. Here Vergil is. It's not the underworld or a quest for power. Mizu's is a place he feels safe and loved, when he markedly lacked that at home from Dante.

"Dante's just down the hall," Mizu assures him, "You're both still here."

It's not the end of the world or the end of their relationship. It's a mistake, but it doesn't have to consume Vergil from the inside out. It doesn't have to be the end he thought it was. He's a person, flawed and hurt, and same as Dante he has habits he falls back on.

"I have you," Mizu tells him. "I love you. Just breathe."

[antimetabole]

The moment Mizu's arms wrap around Vergil, the tears that began pushing past his best efforts to contain begin falling faster and harder with a choked sob. He pulls back from her only enough that he may uncross his arms and return the embrace, his fingers curling into tight fists in the fabric of Mizu's top, and buries his face in her shoulder. Internally, he vacillates wildly between wanting this comfort so deeply and feeling utterly undeserving of it that he cannot comprehend why she would offer it. He makes every effort to do as she says and breathe, but it feels for all the world that he cannot. Pent up anger and resentment, hurt and grief, regret and hope all come pouring out of him as he cries. Some of it had been festering and growing within for days since the initial fight as he continued to ignore and avoid all thought related to it, and other parts of it are things he's carried for years, for better or for worse. He rests more of his weight against Mizu unconsciously, implicit trust in her ability to bear it without issue. Vergil seeks her out as an anchor even further amid the storm of his emotions, the rhythm of her steady breath marked by the press and fall of her chest against his. Sobs that rack nearly the entirety of his frame prove disruptive, but he tries, tries, tries. He pushes through the torrents of thought to find that center with her, to just focus on trying to breathe.

As with all things, it passes eventually. Vergil's breathing, shaky though it may be for a while after, evens out, his tears slow. His grip on her clothes relaxes, but he does not move nor make any attempt to speak. He stays right where he is in the shelter of her arms, in the quiet between them.

Having unraveled like that, Vergil cannot say he feels better necessarily. Like a wound that has finally been cleansed of its infection for the first time, everything feels raw and sensitive. He is too acutely aware of how he feels, and he wishes so very desperately to return to ignoring it. If he could, he thinks he would bottle it all back up and pretend as though this didn't happen. But he doesn't because for one, Mizu would not allow for that. Stubborn as he is, she is just as stubborn as him, and would surely dig her heels in that he confront this. Regardless of whether or not it made him angry, or if he took it out on her, Mizu would not yield and it would only end in Vergil issuing more apologies to those he loves. For another, Vergil doesn't think he possesses the ability to regardless. He feels too small, too helpless to try and put any of this away. He hates that feeling, of course, but he cannot deny the reality of it.

But he takes comfort in her. As much as Vergil does not like this, does not feel better for any of it as of yet, Vergil still draws his comfort from Mizu. She loves him. No matter his mistakes, his flaws, she loves him. And she believes in him. She's always believed in him. Even as far back as that night in front of the bonfire, Mizu believed in Vergil's ability to be the man he wants to be, the man his family needs him to be. Vergil does not know what he has done to earn such faith from her even if Mizu does love him so wholly and completely, but he is grateful for it nonetheless, and draws his comfort from there, too.

"You're still the bigger fool," he manages eventually, voice quiet and thin. "You're the one who loves this fool in spite of the fact you ought to know better."

It's a light joke. Something to signal he is... Well, he is not necessarily okay. It may be a little soon for that. But he is not in danger of falling apart at the seams just now at the very least. He's calm if nothing else, and he knows he is safe. And that it will be okay. Eventually. He just needs to listen to her, and be a better brother even if he doesn't always know what exactly that means or requires of him.

Vergil gives Mizu a light squeeze, but still does not move from where he is. He's calm, but he's not ready just yet to leave the safety of her arms. Regardless of whether he deserves it or not (and he really hasn't landed on a verdict for that one way or another), he wants to be here for just a little longer. Where he doesn't need to think, he just needs to breathe.

[artofrevenge]

The floodgates of Vergil's emotions open, pouring out as strong as the waves of the ocean. As with the ocean, Mizu accepts the intensity of it because the ocean cannot be defeated or tamed or overcome, and why would anyone want to? It's the same here. Mizu is glad that Vergil finally lets out these emotions that have thrummed inside him for days. It's good for him, and she's honored to get to be here for it, to get to support him as he lets go of being strong and independent and capable of carrying all the world on his back for his family's sake. He doesn't have to, but it's what he reaches for time and again. When needed, when asked, and when it isn't asked for, needed or not. Holding all that up doesn't always give him the space to get held, though Mizu knows she's not the only one in his family who's here for him when he needs it. He also has Nero and, yes, even Dante.

Adjusting her position slightly for the extra weight, Mizu holds Vergil and the shattering emotions until calm returns. It's the beginning, not the end, of handling the matter. Emotions washed out into the open laying the groundwork for more to come. Fresh steps toward and with Dante. Conversations that don't bear the weight of the entire future of their relationship, only the place where they are right now. It's... Mizu feels like she's barely done a thing, honestly. She pressed Vergil to open up, gave her honest opinion of what he shared means, and held him. It's all she can do. The hardest work remains his.

Mizu kisses the side of his head again and wonders at how much Vergil's changed since he was younger. She's never seem someone change that much, and it fills her with hope for herself. As much as she felt she couldn't change before she achieved her revenge, like it would diminish her chances or get her killed, she's changed despite that. For the better, and she hopes it means she'll accomplish her revenge, too, as well or better without it turning her into someone like her fathers who only know how to hurt and kill, whose only sense of self and safety come from what horrors they can inflict on other people around them. She's hurt people so much in her journey. Sometimes it seemed that's all she could do. Yet here Vergil is after a far longer journey seeking power and changing so very much. It's possible, when people choose something. It's become possible as she's chosen him.

Mizu smiles at the old and familiar joke, so often said in the reverse roles, where Mizu's the fool and Vergil the fool for loving her. She shakes her head. "No, I don't know better, and I the bigger fool for it."

Everything she's seen only affirms her love for him. Even when he falls back into old patterns, like with this fight, he so quickly manages to break himself out of them. Oh, Mizu doesn't expect him to march off and find Dante this moment. He needs time. He's often needed time to figure things out. He will, however, once he's ready do just that. It won't be too long now he's worked things out for himself.

She continues to hold him. "Like I could wind up with anyone less a fool than I am."

[antimetabole]

Although hidden away in her shoulder still, Vergil manages a little smile then. It is brief, but grateful nonetheless for Mizu. It seems no matter what he has done or will do, Mizu still finds it within herself to always brave Vergil's sharper, more jagged edges. And what a strange thing to not find his mind burdened with doubt in the aftermath even when he's well aware how much it attempted to build itself up in the moments before. He privately wishes he always had such bravery. Perhaps things would not have ended up where they have with Dante if he was, but nothing tends to scare him more than the thought the limit will be reached and there can be no forgiveness, no acceptance.

He stays there for a moment or two longer, but then sets himself upright once more. Vergil remains within the confines of Mizu's arms around him, but holds her face in his hands. He knows he probably looks a mess with all the evidence of his tears, his eyes red and puffy and dried tracks along his cheeks that itch, but he finds himself not particularly self-conscious for it. It is what it is, and Mizu takes Vergil as he is, nothing more and nothing less. Vergil kisses her forehead, a gesture that is a mixture of gratitude and (likely unnecessary) reassurance that all is settled for now. He will be okay.

"I'm going to go wash my face," he says, kissing her lightly on the lips. "Can you manage dinner for a little bit on your own?"

Vergil won't abandon the noodles to the mercy of her culinary skills entirely. While Vergil is easily able to stomach whatever barely edible concoctions Mizu manages to produce without complaint, he generally would still like for this meal in particular to turn out well (call it superstition), and, more importantly, he would like to be truly present with her tonight, and not have some part of himself locked away in his head about matters he currently possesses no control over as he has been the past few days. But she will still need to temporarily take over in his brief absence.

[artofrevenge]

Mizu cannot help but be glad that Vergil shares these problems with her and that her responses are genuinely helpful. Mizu's not the softest or good at softening her words. She knows not to say some things, but beyond that, it's thoughts, advice, and words that are like her. She can be herself, and it helps. It doesn't make her a monster or bad partner. It's part of being a good one. She'd have at least as many issues that needed working out if anyone she cared about were here. That's a short list, but she and Ringo have a lot to work out. She'd like more conversations with swordfather too, but as with Folkmore, Mizu hopes his life doesn't get interrupted. It is what his life is meant to be. What he wants. Ringo, at least, is still looking for his way through the world. His path to greatness.

She meets Vergil's gaze, glad for the greater calm she sees in his features and the set of his expression. The rest, the clear signs of crying, is nothing compared to that. Though she understands the desire to wipe it away. No one walks around sharing such a face with others. Washing it off can feel cleansing, a part of feeling better. Or less awful. Vergil's addressed parts of his emotions, but the whole will not be fixed until he speaks with Dante.

"I can be trusted with a kitchen and the makings of dinner," Mizu says, "Plus, I promise I won't season anything in your absence. I'll reduce the heat should anything get too enthusiastic before you're back."

Mizu probably could learn to do better if she really tried. At the least, she could follow a list of instructions that didn't include elevated cooking skills. Swordfather's the only one who's taught her anything about cooking, and no one would want his soup over hers. Foolish, really. Her mother-nursemaid probably knew how to cook decently, as she was probably raised in a family, but she never bothered to do more than judge Mizu's cooking in the time she was married. It was enough to live on, and her priorities were... elsewhere.

Her attention is elsewhere. Mizu knows better how to feed a horse so they'll eat happily and well than a human. She's learned more about English culture than her country's cooking. It's just... not part of what she cares about. Though she enjoys Vergil's cooking when he's over and Ringo's when they traveled together. Who wouldn't like better food?

With a last squeeze, Mizu steps back from Vergil and returns her attention to the food spread across the kitchen counter. She first checks the stove, to ensure no accident, before paying more mind to the ingredients before her. It's a far cry from how she felt making the noodles the year before. Far better, even as it's hard to go too long without thinking about Ringo or the food he prepares. At least swordfather is eating better.

[antimetabole]

Before Mizu can get too far away from him and return to the task of making food, Vergil catches her by the hands. It's just a light return squeeze and a quiet declaration of his love in spite of the fact no one else is around to hear it. He lets her go then to tend to the food, and for himself to disappear into the bathroom. He is in there for moments longer than necessary, simply breathing and ascertaining his ability to remain calm in the absence of Mizu. To his surprise, the calm remains even if he knows this is only just the beginning.

The simple fact of the matter is that he will need to speak with Dante. It will not happen tonight, of course, but it will need to happen soon. And before they can really even have that talk, Vergil realizes, he will need to figure out how exactly to break the icy silence that he's set between them. Otherwise, any attempt at a conversation is sure to end in utter disaster as Dante would no doubt assume Vergil still angry enough to lash out should his decision to withdraw not be respected in some manner. But it will not happen tonight, he tells himself. These are things for him to take stock of and ponder another time. For now, a beautiful, wonderful woman who offers him more love than he knows what to do with is waiting for him in the other room to usher the rest of this year out. And he would be a fool to squander that away by winding himself back up.

Vergil washes and dries his face, shaking off the final vestiges of his earlier upset. He lets it be a little more meditative than pragmatic, the water pulling from him any lingering thoughts about Dante or their fight or what to do about it. For now, it can be left behind and made into a matter of the past, and Vergil can take a bit of comfort in the notion of some degree of hope that things can be made right again.

With one last deep breath, he leaves the bathroom to rejoin Mizu. Conversation is a bit slow to begin again, both of them more focused on preparing their meal than anything else. But little by little, it builds into their normal rhythms once again, and Vergil is not so distracted by what he is trying to keep from his mind. They're awake well past the beginning of the new year and hardly cognizant of it when it happens as Mizu recites her poem to him again. But when sleep does eventually come to claim them, Vergil is the first to doze off for the first time in a long time. His sleep is peaceful and deep enough that when he goes, he lacks any awareness of just how much faster he manages to find sleep before Mizu.