How about you stop worrying about how confused I'll be and just tell me the parts that matter to you? [ she suggests pointedly.

Toph doesn't need the whole whole story. She isn't looking for a ten-part Ken Burns documentary. She cares about Vincent, which means she wants to hear what's relevant to him, what she needs to know to support him and look out for him.

She's already been plenty sappy out loud so she doesn't say that part, but she sure is thinking it.

Since Toph is the one directing them, they move unerringly to the nearest place with actual privacy, though it means Toph has to pause to open and then close a stone wall behind them with sharp, impatient movements, creating a short staircase downward directly into the earth until they come into a pitch black and desolate basement. She claps her hands together and creates a simple packed dirt bench for them, plonking herself on it expectantly. ]

Okay. Spill. You've been boiling up with something since the second I sensed you, might as well get it out. [ What's repression? Couldn't be her. ]

Wait, do you need a window? Can you see down here, or is that not part of your spooky pumpkin thing?