Page 209

--donation bonus (day #8, post 3/5)--
His father looked at him. The man did not get up. “Hey, son,” he said, utterly flat and casual. “Haven’t seen you around the past couple days.”

Hector waited a moment longer, wondering if there was more, but his father had finished talking. He was suddenly glad that Garovel wasn’t awake to hear. “...I found a job.”

“Oh. That’s good.”

Hector tried not to frown. The temptation to let the conversation die was strong, and perhaps it was even the wisest course of action, but that previous worry was still there like an itch. “...Where’s mom?” he tried.

“Sleeping. She had a long day at work.”

“D-did something happen?”

“Just the usual, I’m sure. Clients being prima donnas and so forth.”

Hector’s expression strained as he struggled for another topic. It felt almost physically painful, as if his body wanted to leave but his brain wouldn’t allow it. “D-do you wanna... um... do something together sometime? The three of us, I mean.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know... maybe we could... go see a movie?”

He spared Hector an odd glance. “Wouldn’t you rather go with your friends?”

“N-no...”

“Really? I know when I was your age, I didn’t want anything to do with my parents.”

Hector had no clue how to respond to that. His father’s wry smile did nothing to comfort him.

The man shrugged and looked back at the television. “I’ll see what your mother thinks about it.”

“Okay...” And with that, the conversation seemed well and truly beyond revival. He gave up and went to his room.

He lay on his bed for a bit before deciding to practice creating iron again. Soon, he felt Garovel stir.

‘Ah,’ the reaper said, detaching himself from Hector. ‘We’re already here.’

“Yeah. You look a little better.”

‘I feel a little better. And you’re already training, I see.’