[Something in his heart seizes. The slow and subtle shift of a glacier, dragging its wounded belly over cracked and barren stone. He thinks of whales. Of baleen, calves being pushed up to the surface for their first gasping breath of air. Bright eyes hidden under dark fringe, peeping at him from over the edge of a couch arm, eyes that belonged to someone who learned to keep very still and very quiet.
They have never spoken about that time. Of the week they spent as Haruno and Panni.]
Can I come see you? We don't have to talk about this over the network.
[This conversation is difficult. It's a little easier, for him at least, with the distance of the network between them. But he hates it. The idea of gift-wrapping this knowledge, when it is something so painful that Giorno won't speak of it on his own, and just handing it over to Elias.]
< Eb7#9 >
They have never spoken about that time. Of the week they spent as Haruno and Panni.]
Can I come see you? We don't have to talk about this over the network.
[This conversation is difficult. It's a little easier, for him at least, with the distance of the network between them. But he hates it. The idea of gift-wrapping this knowledge, when it is something so painful that Giorno won't speak of it on his own, and just handing it over to Elias.]