Chapter Text
Sometimes destruction is hidden in the least hunted-looking people. People who seem to have nothing to worry about. People who are selfish, who have had an amazing life but who can’t bring themselves to actually appreciate the luck they have been blessed with. People like Kunikida.
He has always been a lucky kid. Blessed with a wealthy family, clothes, food and water. He was blessed with the possibility of actually having a childhood. Going to school, talking with people his age, a roof over his head.
He had to be some kind of spoiled brat. Some little creature who looked at the gifts from whatever entity who decided he was deserving of being a normal kid without having earned it, without actually deserving it.
He kind of always hoped God wasn’t real, that everything was conducted to its fate just because it was meant to go that way. He kind of hoped that his parents were just relying on this non-existing figure to find hope in the mess that life itself could be.
And he respected that. But he couldn’t fathom how someone that should be an ever-loving father to all humanity could be so cruel. So cruel to men who didn’t deserve any of the hardships that would present in their life. So cruel to children who wouldn’t know better than to follow a parental-figure to face any good or bad thing that decides to meet their way. Be so cruel to children who do not deserve it. Be so cruel to children like Chuuya or Dazai who, unlike Kunikida, really didn’t deserve to be ripped out of their childhood prematurely.
Yeah, Kunikida really didn’t deserve what was given to him, because he was selfish enough to waste every opportunity that was given to him.
Really, a disappointment. Not only to the people who were around him, but also to life itself.
...
First of all, he decided that having a family wasn’t enough.
With all the children who are abandoned, the ones who are orphans and the ones who are abused, he really should have been a better son.
His parents provided him with everything he needed: a good education, expensive clothes and well cooked meals.
He remembers it well, the first time they made that face.
That one evening they were all gathered at the dining table. His father laughing and talking with a family friend who was invited to dinner, together with his wife. They were making awful jokes with each other. However, it seemed like the only one in the room that could see how fake everyone’s smile was our little 8 year old Kunikida.
His mother entered the room with the sort of mask that everyone seemed to be wearing while not being able to see the ones on the others' faces. And 8 year old Kunikida could not understand, because he wouldn’t be inviting someone to dinner if he didn’t actually like the person. In that moment he could actually see the line that separated his childish world with the unexplored world of adulthood.
“Sooooo…. How is your son doing at school? He seems to be a very polite kid.”
It was not an uncommon thing to hear for the child. He would always be complimented on his behavior. He seemed to be fundamentally different from his lousy and noisy peers. He didn’t mind it though, he preferred to talk with people that could understand him, and if that meant spending recess alone studying, then be it.
“Well, he is. He is the top of his class. We couldn’t ask for a better son.”
That. That was the purpose of the dinner - he finally understood. Adults only wanted to show off their little creation as something that was theirs.
The world seemed a little more clearer from that moment on. Kunikida understood what they meant. In fact, every success he achieved was thanks to his parents, thanks to the ones who decided to give him the opportunity to find a goal, to work hard, to reach it. He understood, because he was very grateful to his parents.
He could finally see. His existence was meant to be a simple one. A very calm ride that could gently bring him to the light, to be someone. And simple lives existed to bring joy in other people's lives.
Because why would - what at the moment he thought was - God decide to give him all this fortune when he could do more, when he wasn’t putting the most effort in what he was doing, when he could hope for greater achievements than being solely a good student.
So it was as clear as water that he wasn’t just lucky. His fortune was meant to be something to yearn for, to give less fortunate people hope of finding happiness if they tried to or a representation of others’ success.
At least, that’s what the 8 year old thought. What his little brain decided to consider as truth.
Because why else would his parents never smile when they weren’t showing him around, or when he wasn’t the best in something?
Because why else would he be praised for being more mature than the other happy kids that always wore that bright smile on their faces?
So he smiled, because the smile on his parent’s faces were a little more genuine than before, because it made them happy, because they seemed to be proud of him for being a good son. He smiled because he finally understood how to be appreciated.
“Oh wow, good for you buddy.” The man said, with a new, strange smile on his face, one smile that Kunikida couldn’t understand.
“You know… I also have a son your age who goes to your same school.”
This made him so excited. He was finally part of the conversation too. He remained calm though, being excited was childish and he could afford to be childish.
“Really? What’s his name? Maybe I already know him.” That was a lie. He didn’t really know anyone. He knows everyone’s name but he doesn’t actually know anyone. Having friends his age was childish and he couldn’t afford to be childish. Especially when the other is obviously less successful than him, since there was just one class in his school for 8 year olds.
“I don’t think so… Well, you know… Shuiji is so smart for his age that he follows the courses that are frequented by 11 year olds.”
That smile. That grin. That mouth that showed the teeth that were currently rippind the little child’s esteem apart. Those gazes form his parents. Their vanished smiles. The silence.
He was a disappointment. The rest of the dinner went by in a blurr. The adults speaking. Saying goodbye to each other.
His parents were good parents. They didn’t say anything afterwards. And he just went upstairs and, for the first time, he studied the whole night.
...
Then he was blessed again.
His new undeserved blessing was the disappearance of Shuji Tsushima and the death of his family.
And during his family’s friend's funeral he could only think of how useless he was. How a presumably dead kid would always be better, someone who deserved much more than what was given to Kunikida but who couldn’t obtain it because of other circumstances, because instead of putting more effort in things, sleep less, study more, he had to rely on others misfortunes.
He didn’t have a purpose, because he was failing in becoming the light in his parent’s eyes.
...
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