𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 | 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘪/𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘥

VI

"Please don't turn your back

I can't believe it's hard just to talk to you,

but you don't understand."

-- Simple Plan

──────── ∘°❉°∘ ────────

SILENCE

──────── ∘°❉°∘ ────────

─EMPATHY WAS A virtue Death cradled when mortals confided in him. His compassion was like an open gate, proving the grass was greener on his side. When dealing with his son, the gates closed and grew into a wall of apathy Kid couldn't break down.

Because of this, Kid learned how to stifle his emotions at a young age. Sweeping them under the rug like a mess he'd rather not deal with. Was he genuinely suppressing, or was Kid allowing his frustration to seethe until it inevitably boiled over into obsessive-compulsive fits and meltdowns? Lately, he's concluded that it is the latter.

As the younger sank in his bitterness, he recalled every instance he confided in his father for guidance, and Death compromised with harsh criticism or distant indifference. The worst was the silent treatment. Rather than reprimanding Kid and correcting his behavior, Shinigami sometimes shunned his son until he figured out what he did wrong. The relentless guilt would leave Kid sick for weeks, making his obsessions and compulsions harder to fight. Silence was worse than any lecture or Reaper Chop. Was it insensitive to say Kid would rather be hit than ignored?

Death's silence was as irritating as it was unnerving. Kid couldn't for the life of him wrap around the effectiveness of it. He learned from Soul and Liz how sometimes humans shut down when confronted, but they always figured it out later. Not even Maka was silent for more than an hour.

He couldn't bear his father's silence, not now. He needed him more than anyone in this banal world. "I won't let you down," he promised through gritted teeth. It seemed like no matter what lengths Kid went to, nothing worked. He enrolled in Shibusen to prove himself to Death but encountered failure after failure. Self-doubt manifested in his thoughts as he cursed his father's perfection and diligence. While Kid tripped over his decisions, Death made his choices with an army of conviction. The younger wondered what it was like never to be wrong.

Kid was so angry. Why was he angry?

When I make a mistake, you don't just correct me. You feel the need to berate me as if I'm unaware of my wrongdoing.

Death remained silent, keeping his distance from his son, who threatened to fall apart before him. His mask gave nothing away, not even a scowl. Kid craved his anger, dismay, or anything but silence. If he didn't have his father's pride, he at least wanted his disappointment.

It's sickening. Why did he want that? Maybe Liz was right; his mood depended too much on how Death treated him rather than his internal satisfaction.

"But if you want me to succeed, I'll need your guidance."

Death's silence gave him space. It was like Kid was pleading with an ominous black cloud. Walking into this, the younger promised himself he'd stay calm and collected regardless of what Death put his way.