She comes to slowly, forehead resting in a pile of her own vomit and tremors slowly subsiding.
In front of her She is waiting patiently for Aoi to finish. Standing by the door and watching, giving her time to recuperate. It seems Aoi didn't fuck it all up completely today, or else She would've left her there or dragged her out.
Aoi pushes up a little as a test, to see if she's strong enough. Feels her stomach roll and goes back down before she contributes more to the pile. Her handler doesn't flinch.
From the ground Aoi can smell the cleaning agent used on the floor. The sterile smell reminds her of needles and hospital beds, the check-up and bed-rest enforced after the last time she did this.
Aoi knows that she fucked up. Her guardian knows it, whoever was on the recon team knows it, by this point even Revolver probably knows. Especially Revolver. Her actions today were an embarrassment to herself, to the program, and to the entirety of Hanoi.
She knows there will be repercussions. She just doesn't know how much.
After a few minutes Aoi starts to wonder if she really did go too far, if she'll need to be medicated or operated on. The woman in front of her doesn't seem to care, or maybe she's just decided that Aoi can handle listening for a little while.
"So, I'm assuming you already understand the cost of your actions."
Aoi considers the benefits of trying to speak, and decides that her health takes priority. She keeps her head down, but nods slightly.
"Are you sure? Because that's what you said the last time you tried playing the berserker." Aoi doesn't wince. "That little stunt of yours was dangerous the first time, foolish the second, and stupid today."
And Aoi's dead family, may the lights of Astra and Baria keep them, would be so disappointed if they could see her now. She knows this- she doesn't need or want a reminder.
"Your opponent wasn't an immediate threat, and he wasn't about to win. If you'd stuck to your strategy instead of rushing in to fix one little slip-up, you could've won."
Except that's not true. He'd planned it- he made it clear he'd been guiding her into that position. She didn't do anything remarkable or impressive, she was being predictive and he was going to use that.
She'd been about to fail.
"Aoi." The woman gets close to her, crouches so that she's close enough to reach out and stroke her hair if she wants to. "This isn't just about your loss. I hope you know that although we care about you winning, it's not as important as keeping you alive.
"It's come to my attention that Aoi, you want to win more than you want to live, don't you?" What else is she supposed to do?
"What happened today shows that. But Aoi, the problem with wanting victory over life is that it can mislead you. Forget what all those old stories of martyrs and heroes say, if you change the world for someone else to live in, all you're doing is leaving the mess you made for someone else to fix.
"I know you may think that putting your dueling over yourself is honorable, and the right thing to do, but Aoi, it's a flaw. You could have won today, but you lost because you were too fixated on the chance of losing to keep fighting."
It's sweet, and Aoi knows that she means best. She always does- she's been like a mother to her all these years. But Aoi can't agree. Because she's only alive for one purpose, only one thing that defines her. Without that, she has nothing.
Blue Angel knows her place in the world is fragile, and she'll do anything to protect it.