Decay
Their compassion for each other can be best described as a mutual disdain. However, the key rests in their capacities to loathe the exact same things for the exact same reasons.
Her parents wore fake smiles; his former teammates—or rather, his original form's former teammates—wear a hatred so pure and raw that it can only be forced and synthetic.
Everything they need to know about their enemies are in their expressions: the weaknesses in the uncertain frowns and creased brows; the confusion or dullness or brash inferno embedded in their gazes.
Mandarin will look at her, and Valina will look at him. And despite what little regard they have for each other, their schemes are perhaps the most potent—even reliable—sources of brutal honesty possibly able to be mustered in the decay of their minds. And Mandarin almost feels a pang in his black, shriveled blood organ when his master kills the witch.
Almost.