The corner of Kratos's mouth twitched briefly as Ishida played off of his "fashionably late" comment, before he sighed deeply, straining to recall exactly what had happened that night some two weeks ago. "We left eventually. Don't think too much about it." There had been many nights where nothing had been accomplished; he had never held any of them against people and did not intend to begin doing otherwise.
"As for these past two weeks--" Whatever he was about to say, though, was drowned out by his name, shouted for the whole cafeteria to hear, and for a second, he flashed back to a time that seemed so long ago by now, that same loud, angry voice demanding yet another explanation (The Renegades and Cruxis are enemies, aren't they?!) as the thing he'd dreaded most slowly unfolded (How does it feel to have your own son reject you like that?).
It was unfolding again. He didn't even need to turn to know the owner of that voice, that voice that instantly captured all of his attention, that voice that he'd thoroughly tuned his ears to catch whenever possible, that he'd hoped he'd never hear while still within the Institute's grasp and yet that he'd always wished for ever since Nigel and Lise had crossed his path--
Something like a mixture of fear and shock crossed Kratos's face, so great was the blow. He had contained it well, back then, at Altessa's house, but there he'd had forewarning. Here, it was if he was standing in front of her grave again for the first time, when the realization had first struck him, that his son was alive, and that he could be thrust into incredible, life-threatening danger.
And then, below that, a familiar current of despair. Once again, the two of them were standing in the midst of a familiar fog, as on that night, one step from clarity and the truth, and as much as he needed to act otherwise, Kratos knew that by his own will, he could not take that step. Were it not for Yuan, he and Lloyd would probably have continued on, one in blissful ignorance and the other in - as usual - self-imposed agony. And he would impose it on himself yet again, to protect his son from the weighty crimes of his father, or so he would convince himself.
He looked down and closed his eyes as he summoned the effort it would take to play the man Lloyd was expecting to meet. Be calm. Detached. Ice. It turned out to be easier than he expected, drawing upon the familiar coldness of an angel of Cruxis, and soon, Kratos dared to look over his shoulder, expression stony, guarded--and ever so slightly irritated.
"Good morning, Lloyd."
The usual patronizing note in his voice rang awkward and foreign to his ears, even though to any other, he would sound no different, and unbidden, his shadow once again whispered in his ear: You do not deserve him. That guilt he'd thought defeated was surging back to life, the knowledge that he was too weak to forgive himself, that he was willing to deny Lloyd the thing he had been searching for longest, his father's identity, because he feared the rejection more, could not bear to bring down the greatest of his shields...
By this point, someone had also taken notice of Ishida, a girl - he could see her orange hair out of the corner of his eye - but Kratos could not seem to divert any of his attention to this new intrusion.
"Congratulations. You've figured out my nefarious scheme."
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"As for these past two weeks--" Whatever he was about to say, though, was drowned out by his name, shouted for the whole cafeteria to hear, and for a second, he flashed back to a time that seemed so long ago by now, that same loud, angry voice demanding yet another explanation (The Renegades and Cruxis are enemies, aren't they?!) as the thing he'd dreaded most slowly unfolded (How does it feel to have your own son reject you like that?).
It was unfolding again. He didn't even need to turn to know the owner of that voice, that voice that instantly captured all of his attention, that voice that he'd thoroughly tuned his ears to catch whenever possible, that he'd hoped he'd never hear while still within the Institute's grasp and yet that he'd always wished for ever since Nigel and Lise had crossed his path--
Something like a mixture of fear and shock crossed Kratos's face, so great was the blow. He had contained it well, back then, at Altessa's house, but there he'd had forewarning. Here, it was if he was standing in front of her grave again for the first time, when the realization had first struck him, that his son was alive, and that he could be thrust into incredible, life-threatening danger.
And then, below that, a familiar current of despair. Once again, the two of them were standing in the midst of a familiar fog, as on that night, one step from clarity and the truth, and as much as he needed to act otherwise, Kratos knew that by his own will, he could not take that step. Were it not for Yuan, he and Lloyd would probably have continued on, one in blissful ignorance and the other in - as usual - self-imposed agony. And he would impose it on himself yet again, to protect his son from the weighty crimes of his father, or so he would convince himself.
He looked down and closed his eyes as he summoned the effort it would take to play the man Lloyd was expecting to meet. Be calm. Detached. Ice. It turned out to be easier than he expected, drawing upon the familiar coldness of an angel of Cruxis, and soon, Kratos dared to look over his shoulder, expression stony, guarded--and ever so slightly irritated.
"Good morning, Lloyd."
The usual patronizing note in his voice rang awkward and foreign to his ears, even though to any other, he would sound no different, and unbidden, his shadow once again whispered in his ear: You do not deserve him. That guilt he'd thought defeated was surging back to life, the knowledge that he was too weak to forgive himself, that he was willing to deny Lloyd the thing he had been searching for longest, his father's identity, because he feared the rejection more, could not bear to bring down the greatest of his shields...
By this point, someone had also taken notice of Ishida, a girl - he could see her orange hair out of the corner of his eye - but Kratos could not seem to divert any of his attention to this new intrusion.
"Congratulations. You've figured out my nefarious scheme."