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Samosa Surprise


The beep of my alarm liberates me from a bizarre dreamscape.

Groggily, I slap the snooze button and extricate myself from the bedsheets. Throwing on some warm pants and a grey hoodie, I prepare to face another miserable cold snowy day.

On cue, the moment I leave the room I'm greeted by the chorus of disengaging locks from my neighbor across the hall. Kenji.

You wouldn't think it, but he's my only real friend in this godsforsaken hospital prison. A bit eccentric, but it grows on you after a while.

Believe it or not, he's the least insane inmate of this lunatic asylum. I still clearly remember the rollercoaster of moonbats that was my first week at Yamaku. Not that everything worked out seamlessly with Kenji, mind you. It's because of him that I learned that drunk people are practically immune to getting injured from falling. The nurse gave me an earful for that whole mess, but it all worked out in the end.

"'Sup, dude."

"Not much. Just had a weird dream."

He begins sweating. "You mean like you're constantly reliving the same day in an endless loop, never changing no matter what you do?"

Classic Kenji.

"Nothing like that. Just the classic flying around naked while your teeth fall out because you slept through an exam."

"Oh. Lame."

"Totally."

We stand there for a moment, basking in each other's manliness, then I shrug.

"Anyway, I'm off to go fight the power. Keep it real."

"Always do, my man."

*****

"Hiiiiichaaaannnn~!"

Great. Little Miss Can't Take A Hint Even If You Beat Her Upside The Head With It.

"What is it, Misha?"

"Do you know what today is~?"

"International freeze your balls off day? Because I'm actively observing it."

"Ahahaha~! No, silly~! It's Christmas~! A day for love~! And fried chicken~! Wahahahaha~!"

Also Little Miss No Volume Control.

"A fake holiday imitating a fake holiday imitating something about some guy no one cares about?"

Uh-oh. I've angered the pufferfish.

"Hicchan~! Shicchan says this is why you can't get a girlfriend."

Yup. It must be my winning personality, and not the fact that I'm strictly observing the policy of not sticking it in crazy.

"Any~way, I just wanted to let you know that there's still time to find yourself a Christmas sweetheart! Word around the dorms is that you're a hot com-mod-it-y!"

"Noted. The girls in this school are embarrassingly desperate. Film at eleven."

"You're so weird, Hicchan."

...And she's gone. Good riddance.

*****

Every day that can be imagined to have even a remote connection to romance, they swarm. Like locusts. An endless interrogation of whether I know what day it is, whether I have a special someone, if I have any plans, and so on. It's enough to drive a man crazy. And so it goes, today is yet another gauntlet of dodging inquiries, hiding away, and coming up with lame excuses about how I’d love to do something, but am already committed to something else. As it is, I’d rather watch a documentary on paint drying than spend one more minute with these shrieking harpies than necessary.

Somehow, I make it through, and think with relief as my head hits the pillow that I’ve got another two months or so before I have to deal with this shit again.

*****

No sooner did that thought complete, it feels, I’m woken by the beep of my alarm.

December 25th? I must’ve forgotten to change my calendar yesterday. Advancing to December 26, I throw on some clothes and step out the door.

“Sup, dude.”

“Same old, same old. Just survived another holiday of being targeted by the Pink Militia. Good thing Christmas comes but once a year, eh?”

“Dude, yesterday was the 24th. Christmas is today.”

“...really? I could swear I just went through it. Must’ve been a dream.”

Kenji takes a step closer, staring intently as if there were a secret message in my nostrils.

“Or was it? Hmmm… If this happens again - you waking up on Christmas and thinking you had a dream about living through Christmas, let me know. I’ve got a plan.”

“Uh. Sure, whatever, man.”

*****

"Hiiiiichaaaannnn~!"

Damn it. She’s so annoying that my dreams have captured her essence perfectly.

"What is it, Misha?"

"Do you know what today is~?"

Let me guess, it’s Christmas, a day for love and getting even fatter by eating a bucket of grease?”

"Ahahaha~! No, silly~! It's… Oh, wait~, that’s what you said…”

As her brain catches up, her face falls.

“Did… did you just call me fat?”

“No, I’m perfectly sure that you’re at a healthy weight for a manatee.”

Her face goes through a series of expressions as she tries to puzzle out how to respond. She eventually settles on imitating a pufferfish before storming off.

“You’re so mean, Hicchan~!”

Bullet dodged.

*****

And so the day continues. And the deja vu piles up. Have the girls gotten so predictable that my dream accurately predicted their every move? Strange as that sounds, it’s the only logical explanation. Fortunately, that makes it easier to have less of their bullshit to deal with.

*****

And, with a beep, I’m awake. Two Christmases in a row was more than enough. I’m glad it’s over for real now.

December 25th? I could’ve sworn…

“Sup dude.”

“It’s Christmas today, isn’t it?”

“Uh… yeah? I think so. Why?”

“I just had a dream where I lived through Christmas, then woke up to find that it was a dream, and I lived through it again, exactly the same way.”

He begins sweating. "You mean like you're constantly reliving the same day in an endless loop, never changing no matter what you do?"

“... that’s what you asked me on the first day of my dream, because I told you that I had a weird dream.”

His eyes dart back and forth. “Quick, dude, come inside. We need to talk.”

As I step inside, I’m assailed by that oppressive wall of stench that fills his room. LEt’s hope this is quick.

Rifling through the mess that is his “strategically defensible” room, he emerges with a binder labeled “Situation #867”.

“You’ll need this.”


I open it up to see a long checklist.

“Learn the true meaning of Christmas, learn the true meaning of Hanukkah, learn the… What the hell is this?”

“I’ll give it to you straight, dude. It’s possible that you’re in some sort of penitential time loop. Someone out there has decided that you need to repeat this day until you get it right.”

“...right.”

“Look, you don’t have to believe me this loop, but eventually, you’ll be looking for solutions. I’ve prepared for just such an occasion. But this is also a perfect opportunity to level up your skills.”

“Level up my… what?”

“You’ve got an endless series of days, and you remember it all. So you can learn sweet ninja moves and shit. Isn’t that awesome?”

“...”

“Anyway, it’s here if you want it. Just tell me ‘samosa surprise’ - that’s the code phrase. I’ll be ready, and so will the Plan.”

*****

I was skeptical, of course, but figured by the sixth Christmas that, somehow, he was the closest answer to what was going on. Since then, it’s been… a lot of Christmases. Years upon years upon years. With no way to keep track, I’ve lost count. 84 years? 42? Over 9000? No idea. Kenji’s plan has been my only tether to sanity, tenuous as that may be. As the Plan directed, I’ve learned the true meaning of all adjacent holidays, even ones that required me to endure hours of an unfunny sitcom from the 90s just to understand. I’ve mastered such random and assorted skills as various forms of martial arts from local dojos, underwater basket demolitions, origami, and carving ice sculptures with chainsaws. I’ve successfully seduced just about the entire campus, which, to be honest, was an uncomfortably easy feat to achieve. And yet I’m still here. Suicide is out, too - there have been enough accidents, coincidences, and pissed off girls to assure me that death is no escape. And so I continue down the list.

Today’s objective is… “try the fish sandwich”. May as well.

There’s nothing particularly special about it. It doesn’t look especially appealing, and there are several more appetising options, but it’s not like it’s some repulsive borderline inedible eldritch horror.

I take a bite. It’s not bad. Not great, either.


Finishing my meal, I continue the rest of the day in what I have calculated in my endless iterations to be the most satisfying way possible.

*****

Good morning, alarm beep. What shall we do this Christmas?

…my calendar is marked as December 26. That’s new. Could the nightmare be over?

“Sup, dude.”

“Today’s the 26th, right? Not Christmas?”

He immediately becomes alert. “Congratulations, dude, you finally escaped! What was the key?”

“Well, I don’t know. I was on ‘try the fish sandwich’, but there’s no way that makes sense. I guess I just got lucky somehow.”

“No, no, that explains everything. Thanks, man, this is exactly what us men needed to win the fight against the Feminists once and for all. Good work, soldier. You’ve got liberty for the rest of the day.”

“Sure, whatever.”

Feeling elated in my escape from what had become an endless nightmare, I spend the rest of the day enjoying the fruit of a brand new day, and all it has to offer.

*****

Another new day, another beep.

…December 25th? What the fuck?

“Sup, dude.”

“Kenji, what is this shit? I had a dream of an endless Christmas, then I finally escaped, and now it’s Christmas again?”

“Don’t worry, dude,” he assures me, with a confident grin, “That means everything is going according to plan.”




This is an exceptionally belated fulfillment of my original prompt, courtesy of Mirage: "One or more of the main KS characters get stuck in a time loop and experience Christmas day repeatedly."

I absolutely love this kind of narrative, which turned out to be a problem, because I wanted to do it justice. And so I kept avoiding finishing it. But, after much delay, it's finally here. Merry Christmas!

Thank you very much!
I was actually quite hesitant to give out this prompt last year, because by it's very nature it would be hard to complete it in a relatively short manner.
So I think it was quite the hard assignment, but you completed perfectly.
The twist at the end leading to the open-endedness were particularly effective in keeping it to a reasonable length - and I liked both, too!

I am a year late with this, and for that I apologize. I'd had most of it ready last year, only to fall down the stairs and nearly break my leg. That led to a Covid-19 infection, longCovid brain fog (seriously, mask up, stay away from this damned disease), grandmother dying, so... Secret Santa kinda slipped my mind.

Thank you to the Prof for reminding me. This is without a beta, so don't mind the errors. I will be curious if you can spot the three paragraphs I didn't have finished before my misadventures last year:

Victim: NoticeMeOppai (Naryzhud)

Prompt: In a Christmas Miracle your favourite character becomes unkatawaed. How do they react? What do they do?

With the cacophony from his door, the repetitive strokes wake Hisao from his slumber. Grumbling he cracks the door to peek out, he finds not the thick glasses and garlic breath of his hallmate, but the bob cut and glasses of someone else instead.
Glancing left and right, the lack of a particular pink haired foghorn stands out.
“Where’s Misha?” he asks, before realizing how dumb it was to say out loud. Grabbing the notepad by his door, he writes out the question before holding it up to the student council president.
Lifting the pad out of his hands, with a flourish she scratches out the answer, handing the pad back to the boy. “At home with her family.”
“Shouldn’t you be home with yours?” Hisao writes out.
Huffing a bit, Shizune writes out, “I have to take care of the lost sheep who didn’t go home for break. Make sure they don’t hang out in their room the whole time.”
Sticking his head out of his door, the boy stares at the ‘Keep Out’ sign on the other occupied door in this hallway.
“He’s gone home, in case you didn’t know,” she writes out with a smirk.
Sighing, Hisao accepts his fate. Not bothering with his notepad, he says out loud, “Fine, you win.”
With the smirk of victory, Shizune turns in place and starts off, the boy trailing close behind.
The eerie silence of the snow covered terrain punctuates that almost everyone had headed home to Hisao as he follows his companion. Everyone that is but a shock of red hair hustling down the walkway quickly.
“Hey Rin,” he calls out to the girl.
With lazy eyes, the girl looks to him and says, “You’re still here.”
Shizune turns to watch as the pair exchange greetings, only to watch Rin swiftly move past the boy, her conversation finished.
“Yup, never change, Rin,” Hisao mutters to himself before spotting the amused smirk on the other girl’s face. “Oh ha ha, laugh at me. Don’t know why I’m bothering, you can’t hear me anyways.”
Clearly satisfied, the girl continues on her path; the school looming over them in the winter snow.
Stepping inside, the sounds of light festivities wafts through the hallway from the cafeteria. Within, a handful of kids are chatting in a corner, a lot of empty tables, Miki is chatting with a girl he remembers named Orie from second year, Emi is dancing by herself in front of a boombox.
Looking over the buffet table, the boy finds himself shadowed, still, by the student council president.
Ever since summer vacation, when Lilly dumped him and ran off to Scotland, Shizune has been quietly there. But while she could have rubbed him being the fool he was in his face, instead she never brought it up.
Hisao would have preferred it if she mutely judged what was a doomed relationship, or better, rubbed his face in how foolish he was. Instead, she was just there, quietly waiting for something.
Moving to an empty table by the window, he finds the seat next to him occupied. Fighting the urge to snap at her, he settles for a sigh.
Still unconvinced Shizune can’t read lips, Hisao turns to face away from his shadow to talk.
“You know, I wonder at times how things could have gone differently. I think it was that first Wednesday, when I defended that… girl. Maybe if I hadn’t, I would not have wound up manipulated like that. I still wonder why you looped me in then, just like I’m wondering why you’re bothering with me right now,” he grumbles.
When he turns back, he finds the girl with a sour look on her face. When Hisao is fully looking at her, she snaps her fingers and points at his notebook.
Snatching it from him as he pulls it out of his pocket, the girl hurriedly writes down, “Nobody should be alone for Christmas,” before tossing it back to him.
Considering a moment, Hisao sighs, and says “Thank you,” before realizing how dumb that was and reaches for the pencil.
With a quick motion, Shizune slides the writing instrument away, and with a playful glint in her eyes snatches the writing pad back as well.
“Well, how am I supposed to talk to you then?” the boy asks, a bit frustrated.
She considers, then holds her hands out, palm up, gesturing him forward.
With much confusion, he mimics the pose, only to have his hands grabbed and forced into position. Forcing his hands flat, she maneuvers them so his right hand is resting on the back of his left wrist. Then with a jerk, she makes his hand tap it quickly before letting go.
“That’s how you say, ‘Thank You’,” she writes out.
Understanding, he repeats the gesture, saying to himself, “Uh, okay.”
Shizune sits back, the smug expression appearing like always before taking her notebook and setting it down in the middle of the table, pencil on top of it.
Hisao picks up the pad and writes out, “I’m surprised you’re not with your family.”
“They’re out of the country,” she writes out in clean, sharp letters, a sour expression on her face. “I don’t agree with the decision, so I chose not to go, before you ask.”
“I haven’t seen you around much lately,” he writes down.
Shizune’s response is a curt, “I’ve been busy with post-graduation plans.”
“Decided which school to attend?” Hisao asks in the notebook.
Sliding her glasses up, she nods. “The offer from that school in Vienna is just too good to pass up.”
“So far…” the boy’s voice drifts off as the thought of someone else moving to Europe sinks in. Catching himself, he changes the topic. “Going to be near family?”
With a shake of her head indicating negative, she scratches out, “Absolutely not.”
Glancing around the room, Hisao says out loud, “You know, haven’t seen Hanako for a few days. I was expecting her here.”
Looking back, he sighs, and writes down, “Was looking for Hanako.”
As she reads it, Shizune’s eyes widen slightly before a frown settles in and she writes out, “She didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
Sigh a long sigh, she stands up, and gestures for the boy to do the same.
Leaving the room, Hisao finds himself led into the girl’s dorm. Pausing at Shizune’s doorway, the boy is nothing but confused why she brought him here.
With the sharp snap of her fingers, he jumps in place, before slowly leaning in and looking around. Within the room, he finds the girl holding up an envelope.
Crossing the floor cautiously, like a cat expecting to be chased off by a troublesome dog, he takes the envelope, finding it unopened and with her name on it.
When he doesn’t do anything, she rolls her eyes and takes the thing, ripping it open and handing the card inside over to him.
Hisao recognizes the format as some kind of invitation. Written in English, the handwriting is immediately recognizable to him. Without meaning to, he begins to read it out loud, “You are her… hereby invited to the… wedding of Lilly and Teiji Satou…”
Across from him, Shizune stands, obviously angry as she writes out, “Miss. Ikezawa left with my father and brother two days ago. I refuse to deal with this farce.”
“But, how?” he asks out loud, shocked.
Understanding the question without needing to hear, she writes out, “Her father arranged it. That’s why he recalled her.”
When Hisao just looks confused, Shizune sighs, and pulls out a folded sheet of paper. Opening it, the title makes it clear, “Implanted sight restoration.”
Sight restoration.
“Lilly’s not blind anymore?” he asks, the world around him fading away in his shock.”She’s… fixed? She’s not broken anymore?”
When the world returned, Hisao was surprised to find his face buried into the blue haired girl’s shoulder, tears openly flowing down his cheeks. Now seated on her bed, he tries to stand up, only to find himself pushed back down.
“I should go,” he mutters, only for her to snap her fingers, forcing him to look at the girl. With a long sigh, she opens up her bedside table, and pulls out a notebook, opening it before forcing it into Hisao’s hands.
“What’s this,” he starts, only to get her pointing at the page, insistently.
Looking down, he wipes his eyes before reading the words on the page aloud. “I am not broken. I don’t need to be fixed. There is nothing wrong with me.”
He looks at the date, finding it almost three years ago. The beginning of April, just before school starts. The handwriting is clearly Shizune’s sharp, clear lettering.
“You wrote this? Why?” he asks out loud, not even considering her hearing loss
Her eyes dart to his mouth, and she nods. Taking another deep breath, she does something he has never witnessed before.
She clears her throat, making what is the first sound he has ever heard from her. Then, looking him dead in his eyes, she opens her mouth, and in a flat and odd sounding speech, says, “My father forced me to pretend that I was like everyone else. That I should be ashamed of my hearing. He wanted to fix me in his words. I wrote that down to remind myself, I am not broken.”
Poking my chest in the middle, just over my scar, she, probably unknowingly, reminds me why I am here. But as I raise my hand, she begins to cough, making an ugly face before grabbing the little notepad and jotting down quickly, “You are not broken either, and neither is Lilly.”
Standing up, coughing once more, she puts her hands on her hips with that all too smug smile on her face before writing down, “Now how about dinner at the Shanghai? My treat?”
Rubbing my own chest for a moment, I consider, then shake my head. Taking the pad away, I write down, “No, my treat.”
She reads that, smiles, and gives a single, curt nod.

Crossposted at AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43845603






.

Here's my year-late submission for Razoredge. I don't have a terribly good excuse, I just suck. I bent the rules of the prompt slightly, but it is my hope that I still retained the spirit of it somewhat. I wanted to get it out on Christmas(ish) so I didn't take the time to get it proofread. If anyone's feeling generous enough to offer constructive criticism, I'd appreciate it.

Prompt: A girl from the cast is slowly becoming alone since everyone is preparing something for Christmas and they leave her alone. What she doesn't know is that they are preparing something for her and they keep it as a surprise.


***

As I briskly stride through the hallway on the way to my destination, my elevated heart rate forces me to become cognizant of my needless haste, and I make a conscious effort to slow my pace. Taking a moment to reorient myself, I stop in front of a nearby window. Not much to speak of out there. The dull drizzle of rain, strong enough cancel my run with Emi this morning but not strong enough to form an interesting spectacle, continues to drag the day down. Emi had insisted with her usual optimism that we would have a beautiful white Christmas, but I think deep down we both knew not to get our hopes up.

Ah, Emi. Perhaps my rushed pace is a bad habit picked up from her. Ever since she took me to visit her father, we've been spending just about every waking minute together, much to the dismay of anyone unfortunate enough to be subjected to our presence; Emi is not shy when it comes to public displays of affection. As wonderful as this honeymoon phase of our relationship is, it's not without its costs. Some of our connections with other people have been left by the wayside.

When I went down to the track for our usual run yesterday morning, Emi was despondent. Apparently, when she went to help Rin in their normal morning routine, Rin was barely able to move. After practically dragging Rin to the nurse by the scruff of her neck, they found her to be suffering from serious malnutrition. But after bumbling through the bare minimum of excuses required to escape the nurse's office, she ignored Emi's protests and trudged on back to the art room.

"It's all my fault." Emi confessed to me. "I've barely been talking to her at all, let alone making sure she eats proper meals. I shouldn't have stopped having lunch with her."

"Come on now, this is just as much my fault." I reply. "And it isn't our responsibility to feed her anyway. Do you know what's been wrong with her lately?"

"I don't know." Emi said, dejection written across her face. "I think she started getting worse ever since she started working on that exhibition thing. I thought she was going to be happy, it went so well!"

Suddenly she turns her gaze up at me, preparing her puppy-dog look that I know she knows will work on me. "Could you please talk to her for me? You're already better at making sense of her weirdness than I am."

And thus, here I am in front of the door to the art room.

***

With some trepidation, I push the door to the art room open. Sure enough, Rin is perched in the same chair by the large window that she occupied the last time I saw her in here. No paintbrush being held this time, though. She just sits there in an awkward, stiff pose in front of what I can only presume is a painting she's working on. An awkwardness made all the more palpable by her complete lack of reaction to my entering the room.

It's clear that no salvation from this tension is forthcoming, so I suppose I'll be making the first move. "Hello, Rin."

She remains paused, only closing her eyes for a brief moment before slowly widening her gaze and slowly turning it towards me. Her auburn hair shows a dull, almost brownish hue from the muted lighting provided by a nearby window. Her hair seems to have grown a bit longer since our last meeting, her bangs reaching down slightly over her deep green eyes, and I have a feeling that this was not a deliberate style choice.

"Hi." She says. It's as though this room itself carries some restriction that requires us to speak in the fewest words possible. I venture forth regardless.

"Still hard at work, huh? It seems like everytime I see you, you're painting something."

This elicits a slightly puzzled look from her. "I thought people were supposed to paint here. You'd probably see me doing other things if you visited me somewhere else. In my room I mostly sleep."

Ah, well. Not quite the direction I was hoping this would take, but I suppose it's progress. I walk into the room and take a seat on top of a desk somewhat close to where Rin is.

"So how have you been, anyway? I haven't seen you in a little while."

She blinks once. "That's a hard question. I'm never quite sure what to tell people. Whenever I try and seach my head for an answer, it's like all those thoughts scatter in different directions. Like when you try to scoop fish out of a pond."

She looks out of the window, as if searching for an answer in the rain. "I think people think shooting fish in a barrel is supposed to be easy, but I'm not so sure that it is."

I'm not really sure what to say to this. I try another question. "Why are you here so late in the month? I heard from Emi that you usually go and see your parents over winter break."

"Nomiya thinks I should expand my portfolio for college applications. He told my parents that I should stay a little longer." This, in her characteristic stoic delivery. But somehow I get the feeling she isn't thrilled with this arrangement.

"Ah.. has the extra painting time been fruitful?

"Probably.. maybe.. not. Unless your definition of fruitful permits me sitting here for the past two days looking at this blank canvas. But if you thought that was being fruitful maybe you'd have even more problems than me."

Her surprisingly sharp eyes refocus on me. "How about you? Are you being fruitful?"

Her question, while probably asked with mostly innocent intent, nevertheless pierces me a little bit. I've hardly been here a minute and I'm starting to doubt if I have it in me to get through to Rin in any meaningful way.

"I dunno.." I reply with some honesty. "I don't think I'm very fruitful today either."

Silence, for a few moments. We both look out the nearby window and listen to the light patter of rain.

"I'm dreaming of a white Christmas." Rin abruptly blurts out. "Or I was, I think. There's something nice about falling snow, snow on the ground. It's like my worries fall out of me and have a soft place to land."

"Hmmm.." I hum in reply.

"I like the rain, but it feels out of place." She continues. "Like when you have dessert for breakfast and you know whatever you eat next isn't going to be as good. I wish I could put the rain in a box and save it for another day."

"I think I understand," I reply. "I have a lot of fond memories of snow this time of the year."

Rin turns her head back to the empty canvas, staring into its emptiness with a vacant expression. I guess I'd better get to the point.

"Emi and I are leaving for break tomorrow evening. We'd like to have lunch with you before we go, if that's okay with you?"

Rin keeps staring at the canvas.

"Alright." She says with what I think is some hesitation. "Please leave me alone now. I'm going to paint. Maybe."

Deciding not to press my luck, I say my goodbye and leave Rin to her acrylic-smelling prison. But as I leave, I am struck by a flash of inspiration. Maybe there's something I can do after all.

***

"This is so cool! We've really outdone ourselves with this one." Emi's merriment was as evident in her gait as it was in her voice as she bounded down the cramped stairwell in a series of playful jumps. Part of me was worried she might hurt herself, but I knew by now how light she was on her artificial feet.

"We?" I retort, semi-sarcastically. "This was completely my idea."

"Don't be silly, ideas are just ideas. Without my help, there's no way this thing would have gotten off the ground. I'm in a good mood though, so I'll let you take 50% credit." She spins around at the base of the landing and winks at me.

I suppose she has a point. What we've done was completely unprecedented, absolutely outside of school rules. If it weren't for most people having already cleared out for winter break and Emi being close with the nurse, who was thoroughly amused by the idea, I can't imagine getting permission for it. Really, there were a lot of logistical annoyances that should have stopped this, but once I told Emi my idea she loved it so much that nothing, it seemed, would get in her way.

Emi was leaning back on the wall at the base of the stairwell now, stretching her hands above her head, waiting for me to finish my descent. "And thanks to my professional training, you were able to carry all that equipment up to the roof all by yourself!"

"Wouldn't have killed you to lend a hand." I sigh lethargically as I take my last steps down the stairwell.

"But you were doing so well!" She grins playfully at me. "Besides, making my boyfriend carry stuff for me makes me feel like a real lady."

"Sure, sure." I step up to her and playfully pinch her nose for a second. "I bet your mother would get a real laugh out of that one, after she was scolding you for chewing with your mouth open at dinner last night."

Emi puts her hands on her hips, shooting me a slightly defiant glare. "A real lady knows to thoroughly enjoy every meal."

"I guess I can't blame you, that food was delicious." I reply.

Emi and I chat in the hallway outside the stairwell to the roof for a little while, passing the time waiting for Rin to show up to this meeting place. Emi has been studying more advanced nutrition recently, both for her own training as well as her career prospects. I find it pretty interesting as well, so we've spent a decent chunk of time discussing it and coming up with meal ideas. Eventually, Rin comes around the corner and lethargically makes her way towards us.

"I hope we aren't going to be eating lunch here. I'm not very good at eating while standing up." Rin sizes us up a little bit. "I notice you don't have any food. Is this one of those interventions I've heard about? Where you surround someone you care about and try to convince them to stop being a drug addict. I promise I've stopped with the cold medicine. I'm also pretty sure you guys wouldn't be able to stop me even if I was an addict."

"No! Of course not!" Emi replies. "And if you ever become an addict you better believe I'll do worse to you than an intervention. I'll beat you up and shove those drugs up your ass before you even know what hit you."

"Even if it's one of those drugs that you're supposed to shove up your ass?" Retorts Rin without missing a beat.

"Er, well, I guess not those ones." Emi sighs. Rin may be the only person I know who can regularly defeat Emi in a battle of words. "Anyway! Enough about that. We're having lunch on the roof."

"On the roof? I know I've been annoying you recently, but I think giving me hypothermia is a little excessive." Rin replies.

"Don't worry, we've got plenty of warm food and drinks," I chime in. "Let's just give it a try. If we don't like it we can come back inside."

And with that, we begin our brief ascent up the stairwell. If Rin suspects anything is strange, she doesn't give it away. At the top of the stairwell, Emi opens the door for Rin to walk through. She takes a few steps forward and stops in her tracks.

As I catch up to the two girls, I can see Emi grinning from ear to ear. As I look back upon the surroundings, I notice that I'm doing that too. The roof is a true winter wonderland. A layer of brilliant snow sprawls out around us, enough to feel the crunch beneath one's feet but not quite enough to be annoying to step through. I was satisfied to leave it at that, but Emi went ahead and hung up a bunch of green-and-red decorative lights as well, and I'm appreciating the added effect now.

Well, if I'm being honest, maybe winter wonderland is a slight exaggeration. It's still a school rooftop on a cloudy day, after all. The consistency of this artificial snow is a little different from the real thing. And if you look over the horizon, the lack of snow anywhere else is a little hard to ignore. But I think this is pretty neat, and I hope Rin does too. She's still standing there, stock-still with her back to me, so I can only wonder.

"..Huh? How?" Rin mutters, just loud enough for us to hear.

"It's artificial snow. We rented a portable snow machine and got permission to run it up here for a while." I say.

"Well? What do you think?!" Emi is jumping up and down with such vigor that I fear she may accidentally launch herself over the protective fencing.

It seems Emi will need to wait a little longer for her answer. Wordlessly, Rin takes a few more steps forward into the snow. She walks with measured precision, as if the snow will break if she isn't careful with it. Finally, she turns around and plops down on her back, staring up at the sky from her bed of snow.

Emi and I exchange quizzical glances. We've never been able to predict Rin's next move, and I suppose we're not going to start today. After a moment's trepidation, we both walk over to Rin, standing over her a little bit but not so much that we block her view of the sky.

Emi ventures her next question. "Aren't you cold?"

Rin looks up at us with a serene smile on her face. "Yeah."

***

After we eventually convinced Rin to get up and put on the jacket we brought for her, we brushed the snow off our nearby seats and began our lunch. Hot chocolate and one of Emi's new health food creations, a banana and chocolate chip oatmeal bake. My protests to Emi that this might have been too much chocolate, as usual, fell on deaf ears. The food, preserved warm in our insulated containers, provided a wonderful contrast to our chilly surroundings. It was a carefree lunch, blissfully reminiscent of the ones we used to have here back in the spring. Rin really did seem to be back to her old self, at least for the moment. As we finish the last of our hot chocolate, Rin says something I wasn't quite ready for.

"Thank you," she begins, taking another sip of her drink. "Lately it feels like I've been stuck in a pile of muck except when I try to get back up again my legs don't work and every time someone comes by instead of helping me up they just try to tell me to use my legs differently and when I try to think about how to use my legs differently my legs feel five percent less real than they did before they said anything so I try to just use my legs differently without thinking about them and that doesn't work either so I-"

"Rin!" Emi interrupts. "Breathe, please. It's okay."

Rin collects herself. "Sorry. I mean, thank you. I feel like you did all this because I've been sad and even if you didn't and it's just a coincidence I'm happy anyway."

"We're really happy you like it, Rin," I say. "We have been a bit worried about you lately, to be honest."

Rin seems to think for a moment. "I'm going to go home tomorrow, too. I mean, I think I will. I'll have to call my parents first. But I'm pretty sure they'll be okay with it."

"Oh, changed your mind about the portfolio?" Emi asks.

"I don't really know if there's a mind to change," replies Rin, "I feel like I was on a train and the portfolio was a station I stopped at. Except I had to push the train myself, and they wouldn't let me wear shoes."

She closes her eyes. "I can talk to my parents about it. Maybe."

"That's wonderful, Rin!" Emi jumps in, "But don't you want to go to art school? I thought you were really gunning to make it into a good one."

Rin looks up to the grey sky, as if searching for an answer to the question. Then she turns to me.

"Hisao, could you throw a snowball at Emi for me?"

I can feel the smile spreading across my face. "Gladly."

First of all, don't blame yourself, I'm still happy you did something for me. And to be fair, you surprised me. I expected, with such a prompt, to read something Hanako-related, but I was surprised, in the good way, to see that I was wrong, and for that, thank you. I'm quite difficult when it comes to Rin stories, ask Emo, he knows. But, to be fair, here, I liked it. The simple fact that Rin was happy at the end is enough for me to like it. It has some flaws, but it's not "as bad as you thought it was". I like it. I really do. This is a simple piece, but that works great. Thank you for that, I liked the reading, I liked the story, and I liked Rin being happy at the end. So, yeah, thank you for that, mate.

Razoredge wrote: Tue Dec 27, 2022 3:51 pm First of all, don't blame yourself, I'm still happy you did something for me. And to be fair, you surprised me. I expected, with such a prompt, to read something Hanako-related, but I was surprised, in the good way, to see that I was wrong, and for that, thank you. I'm quite difficult when it comes to Rin stories, ask Emo, he knows. But, to be fair, here, I liked it. The simple fact that Rin was happy at the end is enough for me to like it. It has some flaws, but it's not "as bad as you thought it was". I like it. I really do. This is a simple piece, but that works great. Thank you for that, I liked the reading, I liked the story, and I liked Rin being happy at the end. So, yeah, thank you for that, mate.

Thank you, glad you liked it. A Hanako-related story probably would have better fit the prompt really, but I recently re-read Rin's route and wanted to take it in that direction instead.

Happy holidays, fellow Rin enthusiast!

Interesting...
My first thoughts if I had drawn that prompt would probably have been either Shizune or Misha.

Here's the link to my prompt for Brythain, nearly 2 years late! (Sorry Bry!)

A lengthy boy, so in its own thread. Enjoy!

An Empty Space Where a Person Should Go