[ Only when he starts speaking at length do her eyes return to him, and she watches him carefully, noting down each word. When she thinks about it, this is probably the longest string of non-inflammatory words he's said to her at all - she can see what he's trying to do, much as there's a veneer of indifference over his speech itself. A tiny smile tugs at the corner of her lips, and she leans back into her seat more comfortably. ]
"At least there's that."
[ She repeats, wry, faintly amused, though she doesn't push the envelope further than that. Misa can be petty, and she can hold grudges. But she's also quite simple to distract or win over, given the right nudge, and after thinking about the big picture as much as she's had time to, between after everyone left Venera to this very moment.... she settles on the fact that he's not really a bad guy after all. Just a sad one, with an impressively short fuse. That, she could forgive, could learn to look past. It'd been a shock of course, seeing what she had, but some part of her is relieved that she'd misjudged things— and she's relieved Makina didn't die for real, too, or they'd really have a moral conundrum. ]
Trying to make me feel better or something? Things worked out. I'm glad he died.
[ She shrugs, leaning an elbow on the armrest of her seat. Misa could say that with confidence, a detached kind of apathy towards that man's life. There's still a seriousness in the air, after all, despite her lighter words. ]
Guess I never thought about it much more than that. There wasn't really a reason for me to— until, you know.
[ In the end, it's true— she really wasn't, and isn't worried about it, at least not the way someone probably should be after such a traumatic event. She wasn't scared of doing the same thing she'd done before, walking around late at night. But the vividness of his memory had given her that reminder; what it was like to think of your life being forfeited because of someone else's feelings, the unadulterated alarm and panic she'd felt on that random street on the way to her apartment. She's sure Makina felt it too, even if things were different. Maybe in knowing that, he could begin to actually face that night, the one he'd hidden from her all this time. ]
no subject
"At least there's that."
[ She repeats, wry, faintly amused, though she doesn't push the envelope further than that. Misa can be petty, and she can hold grudges. But she's also quite simple to distract or win over, given the right nudge, and after thinking about the big picture as much as she's had time to, between after everyone left Venera to this very moment.... she settles on the fact that he's not really a bad guy after all. Just a sad one, with an impressively short fuse. That, she could forgive, could learn to look past. It'd been a shock of course, seeing what she had, but some part of her is relieved that she'd misjudged things— and she's relieved Makina didn't die for real, too, or they'd really have a moral conundrum. ]
Trying to make me feel better or something? Things worked out. I'm glad he died.
[ She shrugs, leaning an elbow on the armrest of her seat. Misa could say that with confidence, a detached kind of apathy towards that man's life. There's still a seriousness in the air, after all, despite her lighter words. ]
Guess I never thought about it much more than that. There wasn't really a reason for me to— until, you know.
[ In the end, it's true— she really wasn't, and isn't worried about it, at least not the way someone probably should be after such a traumatic event. She wasn't scared of doing the same thing she'd done before, walking around late at night. But the vividness of his memory had given her that reminder; what it was like to think of your life being forfeited because of someone else's feelings, the unadulterated alarm and panic she'd felt on that random street on the way to her apartment. She's sure Makina felt it too, even if things were different. Maybe in knowing that, he could begin to actually face that night, the one he'd hidden from her all this time. ]