. . .
"I wonder if my first breath was as soul-stirring to my mother as her last breath was to me."
― Lisa Goich-Andreadis
. . .
Rei barely holds back a flinch.
One word shouldn't be able to hold that much emotion.
But even though Rei heard her perfectly well, as if her voice had come out loud and clear despite the way she was visibly holding herself back, he still found himself glaring back, despite the sudden chill in the air, "And pray tell, how am I a liar, megami?"
Proserpina looks down at him from the steps.
And the air around her somehow felt so cold, a dark heavy thing... like it was tinged with broken dreams and hopes of a family long since torn apart. There was something like grief and despair from the corner of her eyes, in the way the set of her jaw tensed. And there was a certain chasm of loss in her countenance.
Like a once beautiful stained-glass window, now shattered beyond recognition, with no light to empower its blackened colors.
"Well?" he demanded.
Proserpina suddenly got that same flat expression she wears whenever she thinks someone is being stupid—which is, granted, half the time, "If you heard me, then why do I need to repeat it?" she snaps, "You have ears, Kashima, use it."
The audacity of this ignorant brat.
His smile instantly widened into a sharp, almost feral grin at the mere insinuation that started this all, "What the hell are you going on about? Warren sure as hell loved you–"
"I wasn't talking about him!" Proserpina all but snarled, already incensed at the mere implication. Before Rei could open his mouth to retort, she deliberately cut in, "...And deep down, I believe you are aware that I was not talking about the god of the underworld either."
His heart pounded in his ears.
Fuck.
"...Then who were you referring to?"
"The woman who gave birth to me."
Rei ignored the sudden flash of leafy-green eyes and luscious brown hair, the way his blood ran cold, "Summer... she... s-she did try to raise you as best as she can–"
"Her husband gets credit for that."
This time, he didn't get to stop himself from visibly flinching at the sheer intensity of her voice, the rawness of emotion wrapped in it. So defensive, Rei found himself thinking, as he looks upon her, doesn't dare to look away.
... at the little girl Warren Veil had loved so much.
And as Proserpina continues with her tirade, delivered in that same icy tone, completely oblivious to the fact of how each word feels like needles being jabbed right into Rei's heart (because surprise, surprise, he still has one after all!): "You and I both know the truth. That woman absolutely did nothing to protect me or her son. She was most likely glad that she doesn't have to bother with either of us when she took her own life."
The knife felt like it sunk in just a little deeper, was being twisted in his chest. "...You don't know that." Rei insists, his voice coming out soft, a weak argument.
Much to his shame, he didn't believe that either.
"Am I?" Proserpina bites back—and there was the promise of violence in such a simple sounding question—as if sensing weakness.
