Would they really be her family, at that point? Kyoko can't help but imagine it as a situation like with Mami. Mami on the train, who isn't the Mami who asked her to kill her. She just... can't conceptualize her family -- the family who she got killed -- alive, and willing to accept her. And for once, she can almost recognize the tragedy in it, can at least acknowledge that it's messed up. Just, the juxtaposition between that thought, and the way the illusion of her mother welcomed her...
And it's like the illusions around them now are responding to her thoughts. Hell, for all she knows, maybe they are. Because there are achingly familiar trees all around them. A blanket of snow on everything. The path under their feet muddy, shoveled clear. The sky overhead is thick with bright clouds, the air crisp and chilly.
And up ahead, a large building looms, cutting an imposing figure in the pale scenery.
A part of her wants to resist against Yondu's arm, to dig in her heels, to turn and run. But he's already seen her vulnerable, already seen her a troubled kid too many times. She doesn't want to look weak any more than she already has. She doesn't want to be a coward.
And there's nothing saying that if she turns around, the illusion won't just flip itself and put the church in front of her, anyway.
She doesn't know what's waiting for her inside, exactly, but she can already imagine walking in, finding the place dark, no lights on except for, somewhere, an orange glow. Just like she did the night her family died.
She steels her spine. And... She can't act all tough if she's still clinging to Yondu like some little kid. She pulls her hand away and quickens her pace, marching forward, shoulders set, chin dipped.
no subject
And it's like the illusions around them now are responding to her thoughts. Hell, for all she knows, maybe they are. Because there are achingly familiar trees all around them. A blanket of snow on everything. The path under their feet muddy, shoveled clear. The sky overhead is thick with bright clouds, the air crisp and chilly.
And up ahead, a large building looms, cutting an imposing figure in the pale scenery.
A part of her wants to resist against Yondu's arm, to dig in her heels, to turn and run. But he's already seen her vulnerable, already seen her a troubled kid too many times. She doesn't want to look weak any more than she already has. She doesn't want to be a coward.
And there's nothing saying that if she turns around, the illusion won't just flip itself and put the church in front of her, anyway.
She doesn't know what's waiting for her inside, exactly, but she can already imagine walking in, finding the place dark, no lights on except for, somewhere, an orange glow. Just like she did the night her family died.
She steels her spine. And... She can't act all tough if she's still clinging to Yondu like some little kid. She pulls her hand away and quickens her pace, marching forward, shoulders set, chin dipped.