[ Wu gathers her close too, nodding and sniffling. He is crying, out of sadness, yes, out of the memories, but also because of a strange kind of relief to be so understood by someone--someone's. It's not a common feeling for him, and he treasures it deeply. His tears are a release of all of the things that were buried deep inside him, the trauma from his own Auntie, whose memory rises up at the wrong moments, who's always there, at the back of his mind, judging his choices, telling him he's wrong. Those memories rise up unbidden and pass to Ange.
Wu, younger with long hair pulled up at the back of his head, head bowed as a bejeweled older woman, sitting high on a throne, berates him about singing. Another memory with them in the same positions and she's snapping at him for stealing jewelry from her. Another memory of Wu coming up to her with a smile to ask her something only for her to wave him off with those gold-nailed fingers, dismissing him like he isn't even there.
Wu doesn't mean to show her these memories, he doesn't want to remember them either, but something in him feels better from this. He isn't alone. Neither of them is. They were children, subjected to guardians who didn't want them, who saw them as a burden, but they weren't. They're people. Ange is a good, strong, brave, smart person who brings so much to the world, and if she could be treated like that, it goes to show that people don't treat always treat you based on who you are. It's based on something else, on some failing of the adult, the one who didn't support them, who didn't give them what they need. That's why Wu's crying, holding onto both Anges as he lets go of some of that guilt that he's held onto for so long, the guilt that it was his fault that she treated him that way. ]
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[ Wu gathers her close too, nodding and sniffling. He is crying, out of sadness, yes, out of the memories, but also because of a strange kind of relief to be so understood by someone--someone's. It's not a common feeling for him, and he treasures it deeply. His tears are a release of all of the things that were buried deep inside him, the trauma from his own Auntie, whose memory rises up at the wrong moments, who's always there, at the back of his mind, judging his choices, telling him he's wrong. Those memories rise up unbidden and pass to Ange.
Wu, younger with long hair pulled up at the back of his head, head bowed as a bejeweled older woman, sitting high on a throne, berates him about singing. Another memory with them in the same positions and she's snapping at him for stealing jewelry from her. Another memory of Wu coming up to her with a smile to ask her something only for her to wave him off with those gold-nailed fingers, dismissing him like he isn't even there.
Wu doesn't mean to show her these memories, he doesn't want to remember them either, but something in him feels better from this. He isn't alone. Neither of them is. They were children, subjected to guardians who didn't want them, who saw them as a burden, but they weren't. They're people. Ange is a good, strong, brave, smart person who brings so much to the world, and if she could be treated like that, it goes to show that people don't treat always treat you based on who you are. It's based on something else, on some failing of the adult, the one who didn't support them, who didn't give them what they need. That's why Wu's crying, holding onto both Anges as he lets go of some of that guilt that he's held onto for so long, the guilt that it was his fault that she treated him that way. ]