It was one thing to look at Sayaka and see her younger self reflected back at her in sharp relief. To see her present self in every stitch in Yondu's face and behavior is... something else. She knew -- thought she knew -- what to do about Sayaka. She knew what had to be prevented. Here... She doesn't even know what to do about herself.
(She won't pretend it doesn't sting. The one I knew'd accept me no matter what. But she doesn't let herself dwell on it, doesn't let herself look at it, is determined to push past it like it isn't even there.)
Magic can't smooth over this pain, can't set things to rights. It'd be nice if she could let herself believe in manga's version of magical girls -- Love and friendship and justice saving the day, beating all odds, healing all wounds. But she knows better. She knows there's no making this go away. Losing someone under your skin, as far as she's aware, doesn't ever heal right. She's not even sure she believes 'heal' is the right word for it. All she knows about this is how to splint the injury well enough to walk on it until she doesn't notice the pain any more -- or, like with last mission, until it finally catches up to her.
And she knows, too, she can't make any promises. Can't be like, 'you're keeping me whether you like it or not,' because obviously, it's not up to her. It's not up to either of them. (And isn't that just life? Maybe that's the reason why she can't bring herself to blame the train about this. It's life as she's come to know it.)
She doesn't have any wise words here, nothing full of sparkles or glitter to offer him. And her normal instinct of playing it off -- isn't appropriate, and isn't something she wants to do, anyway. Which leaves her with one stupid impulse, and she knows she's going to feel like an idiot after she does it, but it's what she's got.
She's still holding her Soul Gem. So she holds it out towards his chest -- over his heart -- like she's trying to heal that, too. And, after a beat where absolutely nothing happens and she resolutely doesn't look at him (her eyes trained on her Soul Gem), she says, "Didn't work." Yeah, as if she expected it to.
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(She won't pretend it doesn't sting. The one I knew'd accept me no matter what. But she doesn't let herself dwell on it, doesn't let herself look at it, is determined to push past it like it isn't even there.)
Magic can't smooth over this pain, can't set things to rights. It'd be nice if she could let herself believe in manga's version of magical girls -- Love and friendship and justice saving the day, beating all odds, healing all wounds. But she knows better. She knows there's no making this go away. Losing someone under your skin, as far as she's aware, doesn't ever heal right. She's not even sure she believes 'heal' is the right word for it. All she knows about this is how to splint the injury well enough to walk on it until she doesn't notice the pain any more -- or, like with last mission, until it finally catches up to her.
And she knows, too, she can't make any promises. Can't be like, 'you're keeping me whether you like it or not,' because obviously, it's not up to her. It's not up to either of them. (And isn't that just life? Maybe that's the reason why she can't bring herself to blame the train about this. It's life as she's come to know it.)
She doesn't have any wise words here, nothing full of sparkles or glitter to offer him. And her normal instinct of playing it off -- isn't appropriate, and isn't something she wants to do, anyway. Which leaves her with one stupid impulse, and she knows she's going to feel like an idiot after she does it, but it's what she's got.
She's still holding her Soul Gem. So she holds it out towards his chest -- over his heart -- like she's trying to heal that, too. And, after a beat where absolutely nothing happens and she resolutely doesn't look at him (her eyes trained on her Soul Gem), she says, "Didn't work." Yeah, as if she expected it to.