Gravis sat in front of his father. Two cups of coffee stood between the two of them.
For a while, the two of them only silently sat like this.
"A lot of time has passed," Gravis said.
"Yes," the Opposer answered. "Even when you were small, you always enjoyed the coffee."
Gravis nodded as a profound feeling of disconnection washed through him.
When he had just been a kid, he had also sat in front of his father like this, drinking the same coffee.
Back then, Gravis had been nervous in front of his father. After all, Gravis had never felt any true love coming from his father. As a child, one might not realize why one was feeling this way, but subconsciously, the children would feel nervous.
Gravis hadn't acted like the Opposer was his father but rather a stranger he needed to please.
There had always been a certain distance between them.
That was also why Gravis addressed the Opposer as father.