[The words bite, even if unintentionally. Mista got Trish’s body; Narancia got Giorno’s. It was Giorno’s body they all saw impaled and bleeding out, his body that died as Narancia’s soul left it.]
[He doesn’t smile. His lips thin as the rest of his expression stays still, leaving something unreadable and wildly open to interpretation. Of course, Narancia’s right. They couldn’t have won without him. They wouldn’t have gotten involved at all without him. And he isn’t sorry to have won. He’d do it again.]
[But it isn’t a good thing, how it happened. By logic, it’s his fault. That’s all there is to it.]
[After a moment, he shoots Narancia a faint smile, despite everything.]
I’m glad that I met you, Narancia. [Despite everything. Despite how wrong all of this feels. It’s the truth.]
no subject
[He doesn’t smile. His lips thin as the rest of his expression stays still, leaving something unreadable and wildly open to interpretation. Of course, Narancia’s right. They couldn’t have won without him. They wouldn’t have gotten involved at all without him. And he isn’t sorry to have won. He’d do it again.]
[But it isn’t a good thing, how it happened. By logic, it’s his fault. That’s all there is to it.]
[After a moment, he shoots Narancia a faint smile, despite everything.]
I’m glad that I met you, Narancia. [Despite everything. Despite how wrong all of this feels. It’s the truth.]