[ Kim laces his fingers together, humming a little under his breath as he considers the situation. It's a thorny one, and one he has no business sticking his nose into. He has no answers, barely has a good grasp on things as it is; underneath different circumstances, he would urge Aragaki to ask a teacher, a mentor, a parental figure, a mental health professional, someone with a better idea of where Aragaki is coming from. This feels too much like getting involved. It may well backfire on any one of them, and then who's to blame?
But it's gone a little beyond the sole purpose of duty now. If it was still duty alone, perhaps he wouldn't feel so uneasy. He cares, though, wants life to be easier for this poor kid - this dead kid - grappling with things beyond most adults' grasp. He wonders, momentarily, if he should be advocating for Aragaki's well-being or the new kid's.
Or perhaps their well-being is one and the same, in the end. ]
Guilt is something that... sometimes you feel that you must live with it, in order to atone. It's a natural way to feel. But even if it doesn't feel that way, guilt can be a very selfish emotion. We have to wonder who it's serving to feel that way, and why. How it can burden the very people we want to do right by.
[ He looks up at Aragaki. He will not share who he's thinking of in this moment. He cannot. In many ways, he is not as strong as Aragaki is; it has been years since Eyes' death, and yet it still pains him too much to speak on it. But he can't help but think of the horrible aftermath, how his guilt did nothing but burden the wife and child that Dom had left behind, how what they needed was support and not the murmured apologies and cringing deference of the partner who had survived. It had been a terrible thing to grapple with. He had half hoped to be reprimanded, hit, scorned.
That's not what they needed. They needed someone to share in the good memories. To bring groceries to their door. To crouch by his child and play with her, in Kim's own graceless way. His self-recrimination did nothing but hurt them, nothing but wounded misery in his wife's eyes until Kim managed to sit down and speak with her like a human being.
He removes his glasses, polishing them with his shirt. The way the world is cast in blurry shadows makes this easier. ]
If you want to do right by this kid, sometimes that means letting go of what you think you deserve, and accepting what he thinks you deserve. It's the only way for him to heal too. Don't get me wrong -- it's a difficult pill to swallow. It's more difficult to bear forgiveness than blame, sometimes. And it doesn't mean you have to sacrifice yourself to look after him either, if living with him is too painful for you both. But -- it is something for you both to consider.
[ He exhales, putting his glasses back on. There is something heavy in his bearing. These aren't platitudes; this is the life he's lived. ]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2023-11-19 02:27 am (UTC)[ Kim laces his fingers together, humming a little under his breath as he considers the situation. It's a thorny one, and one he has no business sticking his nose into. He has no answers, barely has a good grasp on things as it is; underneath different circumstances, he would urge Aragaki to ask a teacher, a mentor, a parental figure, a mental health professional, someone with a better idea of where Aragaki is coming from. This feels too much like getting involved. It may well backfire on any one of them, and then who's to blame?
But it's gone a little beyond the sole purpose of duty now. If it was still duty alone, perhaps he wouldn't feel so uneasy. He cares, though, wants life to be easier for this poor kid - this dead kid - grappling with things beyond most adults' grasp. He wonders, momentarily, if he should be advocating for Aragaki's well-being or the new kid's.
Or perhaps their well-being is one and the same, in the end. ]
Guilt is something that... sometimes you feel that you must live with it, in order to atone. It's a natural way to feel. But even if it doesn't feel that way, guilt can be a very selfish emotion. We have to wonder who it's serving to feel that way, and why. How it can burden the very people we want to do right by.
[ He looks up at Aragaki. He will not share who he's thinking of in this moment. He cannot. In many ways, he is not as strong as Aragaki is; it has been years since Eyes' death, and yet it still pains him too much to speak on it. But he can't help but think of the horrible aftermath, how his guilt did nothing but burden the wife and child that Dom had left behind, how what they needed was support and not the murmured apologies and cringing deference of the partner who had survived. It had been a terrible thing to grapple with. He had half hoped to be reprimanded, hit, scorned.
That's not what they needed. They needed someone to share in the good memories. To bring groceries to their door. To crouch by his child and play with her, in Kim's own graceless way. His self-recrimination did nothing but hurt them, nothing but wounded misery in his wife's eyes until Kim managed to sit down and speak with her like a human being.
He removes his glasses, polishing them with his shirt. The way the world is cast in blurry shadows makes this easier. ]
If you want to do right by this kid, sometimes that means letting go of what you think you deserve, and accepting what he thinks you deserve. It's the only way for him to heal too. Don't get me wrong -- it's a difficult pill to swallow. It's more difficult to bear forgiveness than blame, sometimes. And it doesn't mean you have to sacrifice yourself to look after him either, if living with him is too painful for you both. But -- it is something for you both to consider.
[ He exhales, putting his glasses back on. There is something heavy in his bearing. These aren't platitudes; this is the life he's lived. ]
Does that make sense?