Sound and Silence 9: Reconciliation
#13 of Sound and Silence
Cat visits family at the hospital.
Kindness triumphs over resentment.
Clair was pacing around the door to where his father was resting. Some of the nurses and other patients were giving him a confused look, but ultimately minded their own business.
Finally, having resolved himself to tell his dad off, he opened the door to his room.
...And immediately, that resolve all went up in smoke in the blink of an eye as he looked upon his father's sleeping form. He looked so vulnerable-so fragile, like he could wither away at any moment. Was this really the same stern, stone-faced business owner who had raised him his whole life? Clair felt his confidence waver as his father stirred to life from the sound of Clair entering. He looked at his son and smiled weakly.
"Clair... it's been a while." His father said softly as he slowly sat up from the bed.
"A-are you okay to move?" Clair asked, not expecting himself to be so concerned with his dad's well being. His father laughed him off.
"Oh, come now, I'm only dying. It's not like I'm decrepit or anything." Dale took a close look at his son, his eyes scoping out every detail of him. Clair squirmed under the hawk eyes which scanned him thoroughly-This appraisal usually came with comments of disapproval, and he prepared for the worst-but his father grinned. "You've grown up, son. You look very handsome." Clair was taken aback-this positivity was... new.
"Uh, thanks... I'm surprised you recognized me... you know... dyed fur, piercings, clothes... and all that." His father chuckled.
"A parent can always recognize their child, Clair. Sit down." His father said, gesturing to a nearby stool. Clair obliged, sitting down close to him. There was a moment of silence as Clair had no idea what to say. His father spoke first.
"So.. Emma says you're living with Reyson now." Clair's eyes narrowed.
"..Mom told you that? Yeah, so what? You got a problem with it?"
"No, of course not. Reyson is a fine young man. I'm sure you two are getting along very well, and that he's keeping you in line, as you are him." Clair stammered.
"We're doing alright." Clair answered, whilst thinking to himself just how strange this whole scenario was.
"Where are you working right now, Son?" His father asked. Clair looked down.
"I'm working at a fast food place where I live... Nothing grand or fancy like you would have wanted, unfortunately." He uttered that last bit with clear sarcasm. The older, matured cat paid it no mind.
"That's good. Everyone starts somewhere. I'm sure you'll find better opportunities soon. Have you done any projects on the side?"
"Wh..why is he being so nice?" he thought to himself.
"N-no, not really." Clair decided not to tell him about the short idol gig and his occasional work at the club. His father looked at him expectantly, but when he didn't say anything more, he simply smiled.
"That's fine as well. Life isn't a race. Though I suppose... I learned that lesson just a bit too late, don't you think, Clair?" His father answered, crestfallen. He gave a half-hearted chuckle filled with sadness.
Clair gritted his teeth, his frustration slowly simmering. Dale looked back up at him.
"So, tell me about Art School. Did you make a lot of friends? Did you have fun?"
The question triggered a flurry of flashbacks to Clair's childhood:
"You don't have time to make friends. If you have free time, you should be studying."
"There is no time for fun, son. It's a long road to inherit the family business, and you will not let us down."
"Your teacher called me and said that you missed your supplementary classes again. Were you spending time with that delinquent Reyson again? How many times have I told you to stay away from him!?"
"You're a disgrace to the family, Clair. If you aren't going to live up to our expectations, you may as well go flip burgers for a living."
All of these biting statements from his family and more came rushing back to him as he attempted to reconcile the version of the father he knew with the one standing in front of him.
"F-fun? Friends? I figured you'd care more about the grades that I got... or something."
"Grades aren't everything, son. Sure, you need to make friends to have connections, but you also need to live your life to the fullest." His father gave him another appraising glance. "And it looks like you've been doing just that. I'm proud of you, son."
As Clair's irritation reached a boiling point, he stood up, tipping the stool he was sitting in over. He clapped his hands together, forming a sound barrier around the room he and his father were occupying.
"This... is all wrong!" Clair yelled, seething with fury. His father continued smiling at him.
"This wasn't how things were supposed to go at all! You were supposed to still be... I don't know-a fucking asshole! I was supposed to have the last laugh! I was supposed to tell you that I defied all your expectations and still made it in life! You were supposed to tell me you were disappointed, so that I could tell you that I didn't give a damn what you thought about me! You were... You weren't supposed to change. You don't get to just be a nice guy in your final moments!." A sniffle.
"...After all, If you've changed and accepted me for who I am... Doesn't that just make me the asshole for still being bitter?" Clair looked down in disgust as droplets of tears dripped down onto the tile floor.
Dale, despite the verbal lashing, simply laughed. "My, it looks like you've learned how to stand up for yourself too. Though, you were plenty capable of that before you ran off to art school, so maybe that isn't anything too new." Clair grimaced at his father wordlessly.
Eventually, the bedridden cat slowly frowned before continuing.
"Clair... You have every right to be upset and bitter. Your mother and I took many things away from you that you should have had as a child. We tried to control your life for our own benefit, and treated you as livestock. That sort of behavior was inhumane and unforgivable." he laughed sorrowfully. "Honestly, it's utterly absurd that it took me until my final months to realize what a fool I had been."
Clair listened in silence. There was nothing he could even say to that confession... besides maybe "yeah, duh"... that hardly seemed appropriate, even for him.
"And yet, In spite of your oppressive upbringing, You still managed to carve out a life for yourself that makes you happy, and for that, I am grateful."
"Thanks... I guess." was all the little cat could muster, his eyes flickering as a tempest of emotions stormed within him.
After a pause, his father continued.
"My apologies son-I hate to ask you this after everything I've just said, but I must ask one more time: Do you wish to inherit the family business?" Clair's eyes flickered with irritation as he glared at his father, who waved his hands defensively.
"N-No, please don't get the wrong idea-I'm not forcing you this time. I simply need to know for the sake of the company. If you decide not to, I will simply pass it along to the next highest up in the company. I've known her for a long time, and I'm sure she will take good care of the organization. She will also be the one to train you if you so choose to accept the offer." The young cat's eyes softened as he realized this wasn't a demand, and seriously contemplated the offer. After a while, he shook his head.
"No, dad-I've never been interested, and I doubt I ever will be. And on top of that, wouldn't it be weird for you to suddenly appoint some kid with no experience to head your new company? I'm not that smart, but even I know there would be a ton of internal backlash over that." Dale smiled.
"You make a fair point. Very well-then whatever you do, I wish you the best of luck. Know that the company will always have a place for you, should you change your mind." Clair nodded slowly. "Speaking of which, I understand Reyson is a very educated young wolf. If he ever needs another job, our doors will be open for him as well."
"I'll... let him know."
There was a brief pause. His father spoke, with a light smirk.
"So, how far have you gotten with that young man anyway?" Clair stepped back, falling over on his butt as he tried to sit on the stool which he had forgotten had tipped over in his little outburst. Luckily, thanks to the sound barrier, no one else was able to hear his clumsiness.
"W-Wha- we haven't done anything like that, dad!" Clair spluttered in a panic.
"Oh? Even though you two are boyfriends?"
Spluttering x 10
"I- that- we... we're not... like that." His father frowned.
"...Even though you love him?" Clair looked down, stealing occasional glances at his father, who was doing that hawk-eye thing on him again.
"I... I don't know." Was all Clair could muster. Suddenly, his father's face took on a very stern expression as he began to lecture his child.
"Son." He said with a familiar cold tone. Clair stood up at attention, instinctively reacting to the timbre of the command. But Dale's voice immediately softened again.
"Claire, I no longer disapprove of Reyson. And even if I did, In a little while, I won't even be around to stop you anymore. I know that we tore your friendship apart when you were young, but you're grown up now, and you have another chance. If you do love him, chase after him with all your heart. Otherwise, you might lose him." Clair silently contemplated his fathers words, knowing them to be true. He picked up the stool that had toppled over and sat back down.
"...Okay, dad."
Dale put a hand on his son's.
"If I could ask for one more favor... from an idiot father to his grown up son... Could you visit Emma sometime and make amends with her as well? I know better than anyone else that all she wanted was the best for you." Clair looked away with a combination of embarrassment and shame. He slowly nodded.
"Okay, I'll talk to mom."
"Thank you son." His father released his hand from his son's and rested them on his lap. The two stayed like that for a moment before his father suddenly had a spark of realization.
"Say, could you do that music thing for me?" Clair tilted his head in confusion. His father picked up his phone from the nearby desk, and unlocked it. He then opened a video of one of Clair's performances at the club.
"Emma showed this to me the last time she visited. Reyson gave her the video and told her to show it to me. If it's okay with you, I'd like to experience it for myself... If that's okay with you." Clair looked surprised, then nervous, and then laughed.
"Jeez, dad, if you already knew that I was doing these performances on the side, then why did you even ask me about my side projects in the first place?"
"Well, I wanted to hear it directly from you. But I know how shy you are, so I didn't press the issue."
"...stupid father. Alright, alright. I'll give you the performance of a lifetime, okay?" His father nodded and smiled.
Instead of conjuring a sphere of orb which contained a song, Clair pulled the stool he was sitting on to a more open area. He then conjured a piano, its green and blue hues refracting against the light streaming into the room from the outside windows. Clair gently pressed his fingers to the conjured keys and began to play.
Music: Debussy: Arabesque No. 1
As he played the notes, shimmering particles came to life around the room to match the emotional beats of the music, bathing the room with a warm and cozy glow. As his father watched the song of his youth come to life, tears started streaming down his eyes like gentle rain.
"Ah... to think... I had tried to tell you that this was all a waste of time... I'm so... so... sorry..."