[She wants to say that she does. That she pities this icy copy of herself, who will not know the joys that she has known... But she can't. She can't, and that's what's so pathetic about it. She can't condemn the doppelganger for speaking lies, and she can't...]
Akua, don't.
[It comes out more shameful than she intended, the force of the initial rage breaking as the shattered and cracked mirrors reflect more of her mistakes. Rejecting her brother's offer of rescue in favor of a desperate plea to regain her honor on her own. (Yubari...) Her failure to teach the young ones that had been in her charge... It all mocks her.
The flare of pain from the arrow being ripped free of her muscles and the burn of the wound cauterizing on her rump is welcome (and deserved). Her next words are hissed, pulling another of her own arrows from the quiver.]
It's not lying.
[What did that feel like? She could have felt it... it had been offered to her. Yubari had always wanted her to acknowledge him, to let him reach out and touch her... and she had always kept the wall up between them. The free jinba had eventually warmed to her, under Matsukaze's coaxing, and tried to invite her to plant and hunt and sing and work together... but she had held herself to her self-imposed duty to a master that saw her as a beast for sale. And Matsukaze... the Pleroma, now Meridian...]
No, I'm not, am I?
[This time the voice comes from behind, so close like a whisper. (A distraction... they're getting too close to the right mirror.)]
What do you know, magic women? About this pathetic mare... about being welcome?
no subject
Akua, don't.
[It comes out more shameful than she intended, the force of the initial rage breaking as the shattered and cracked mirrors reflect more of her mistakes. Rejecting her brother's offer of rescue in favor of a desperate plea to regain her honor on her own. (Yubari...) Her failure to teach the young ones that had been in her charge... It all mocks her.
The flare of pain from the arrow being ripped free of her muscles and the burn of the wound cauterizing on her rump is welcome (and deserved). Her next words are hissed, pulling another of her own arrows from the quiver.]
It's not lying.
[What did that feel like? She could have felt it... it had been offered to her. Yubari had always wanted her to acknowledge him, to let him reach out and touch her... and she had always kept the wall up between them. The free jinba had eventually warmed to her, under Matsukaze's coaxing, and tried to invite her to plant and hunt and sing and work together... but she had held herself to her self-imposed duty to a master that saw her as a beast for sale. And Matsukaze... the Pleroma, now Meridian...]
No, I'm not, am I?
[This time the voice comes from behind, so close like a whisper. (A distraction... they're getting too close to the right mirror.)]
What do you know, magic women? About this pathetic mare... about being welcome?