She sounds unhappy. For a moment it brings him to falter, looking back at her and unravelling just a little.
"Mom, I..." But he has nothing more than that. His mouth shuts and he goes silent again. He turns just a little more from her.
Then with enough time, "I'm the only one who's not on board for... anything. When you go back, you're not going to find some splintered family or anything. Everyone's fine with each other. And everyone else is fine with them. No more shinigami war, no business with hueco mundo, none of that. Everything's..." Painfully, horribly empty. "... quiet. So you don't have to worry."
He wishes he had his mask, he thinks for the thousandth time. And right on it's trail is the thought that maybe... maybe he should leave.
He talks of not finding a splintered family, even though the thought had never crossed her mind. It's a bit of a surprise that he chooses to make that assumption. One that she tries to delicately correct.
"I wasn't worried about them," she tells him, gently. It feels like such a heavy, telling silence that stretches between them. If not them, then there's few options left for her to worry about.
But she breaks that silence by pushing out her chair and getting to her feet. "I should get started on our dinner," she explains, using it as a means to excuse herself from the table--and him from the topic if he wants it. "What would you like tonight?"
She wants his opinion to change. She wants him to understand. But really, it shouldn't matter at all what he thinks. About anything. None of it is going to have impact, at least not in the long run. She doesn't see that now, but maybe in time she will. If she's not worried about them it must be that, but there's no reason to worry at all.
But he doesn't want to explain that now. He doesn't want to sit in silence either.
She gets up, asking what he'd like and he blinks. "...I don't know. It doesn't matter. Do what you want to I gu--"
There's a knock at the door and he rises up. That's right. He remembers now.
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no subject
"Mom, I..." But he has nothing more than that. His mouth shuts and he goes silent again. He turns just a little more from her.
Then with enough time, "I'm the only one who's not on board for... anything. When you go back, you're not going to find some splintered family or anything. Everyone's fine with each other. And everyone else is fine with them. No more shinigami war, no business with hueco mundo, none of that. Everything's..." Painfully, horribly empty. "... quiet. So you don't have to worry."
He wishes he had his mask, he thinks for the thousandth time. And right on it's trail is the thought that maybe... maybe he should leave.
no subject
"I wasn't worried about them," she tells him, gently. It feels like such a heavy, telling silence that stretches between them. If not them, then there's few options left for her to worry about.
But she breaks that silence by pushing out her chair and getting to her feet. "I should get started on our dinner," she explains, using it as a means to excuse herself from the table--and him from the topic if he wants it. "What would you like tonight?"
no subject
But he doesn't want to explain that now. He doesn't want to sit in silence either.
She gets up, asking what he'd like and he blinks. "...I don't know. It doesn't matter. Do what you want to I gu--"
There's a knock at the door and he rises up. That's right. He remembers now.
He'll take care of this.