PB and Bananas (Post Rin Good Ending)
Posted: Mon May 24, 2021 11:27 pm
So... apparently I wrote this March 14, 2019, or at least I think I wrote this. (I hope I wrote this...) I tried to search the forums to see if I had posted it or if someone else posted it but it wouldn't search so...
Anyways, this is set somewhere down the line after Rin's Good Ending. Enjoy
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Grief is a strange thing, like bananas with peanut butter. People say it tastes good, but then you try it and it’s different. Not bad, just different.
I don’t know how to handle this, do I change again? Or would it be better to stay the same? Grief is weird. Hisao once said grief takes time; I’m inclined to believe him since he lost people before, but they didn’t betray him, they just… stopped being in his life.
My foot moves across the canvas, numerous colors being left behind by the brush between my toes. I don’t think colors stay the same, my red is different from Emi’s red, or Hisao’s, but they’re all still red. Or is it orange? I think I heard somewhere once that orange used to be called red. The color on my brush stops shifting colors, settling on something between traffic cones and fire. Finally noticing my painting, I think it’s finished.
Fire consumes it, shreds of house mixed in with the flames and grass covering the bottom and clouds obscuring the sky. That’s what I see at least. People never know what I’ve painted and telling them what it is always makes it meaningless so I just listen. Maybe Nomiya will be happy this time, he’s been frustrated by my painting lately. He compares me to a famous painter from Europe, said something about it being abstract. He showed me it once, just looked like colors to me. Didn’t make any sense.
The paint dries, it’s dark outside the window. I don’t think it was dark when I finished, I didn’t pay attention. I’m good at forgetting things. Next thing I know the window is light again and there’s pain in my neck. Probably feel asleep sitting again. I’ve done that a lot lately.
Deeming the painting ready, I go to stand up to let Nomiya know... The floor is hard. The growl in my stomach means I haven’t eaten. From the floor, I focus on the window. I think it went dark twice since I last ate; Emi would be mad at me. Shuffling my chest side to side, I get the thingy Nomiya got me for when this happens and bite it. I think it lights up, I’m not paying attention.
The colors of outside change as I miss time passing. Wood scraping on wood tells me Nomiya is here. He speaks words, but words don’t mesh with my mind much these days. I feel hands grab my shoulder before lifting me up, some bottle being put to my mouth. Peanuts and bananas… Meiko probably made this. Emi loves this for some reason. I’d tell her it’s weird, but she doesn’t get to make it much these days. I keep quiet.
Mushy brains snap into place, his words finally making sense. “What happened Rin, you have meals prepped in the fridge so you wouldn’t do this again. What would Emi say?” I stop listening.
Emi doesn’t say much, she does things. Bringing up what she would say means nothing. Besides, she left me here to go off with Hisao somewhere, who cares what she thinks? It doesn’t make sense, nothing makes sense. Why’d he choose her? He understood me, I even got that feeling you get when everything will be alright and he still left. “Selfish…”
Nomiya shakes his head, putting the shake on a table with a straw in it. “Finish this before you do anything else; I’ll take this painting and put it with the rest.”
“Where they go to die?” The look in my eyes seethes anger and regret, but I’m not sure where it comes from. My body does things on it’s own occasionally.
“We talked about this Rin, until you’re doing better none of your art is going into a gallery. It was hard enough on you before all this.” In my mind I’m far away, not recognizing what he says.
My body has other intentions. “And I hate it. You got me to paint for others but now it all just comes back and does nothing. Why did you do this to me?”
I don’t look at him, but his voice says something’s wrong. “Who do you think I am?” Laying on the floor again, I curl and maneuver my body to look at him.
The belly is similar, but his typical red coat and ugly tie are gone, same with his pants, replaced by comfy sky pajamas. “... Nurse?”
He nods his head. “Give it time, it’ll slowly come back to you, it always does.” He walks back over, motioning to help me stand up. I nod. “Mirrors seem to help. Come on, lets go to your restroom.” Seems I have control over my body again.
He guides me to a door, opens it, and inside I see him and another woman with short, auburn red hair. She’s kinda like my mother, but lanky and without arms. He clicks something to my right, flooding the room with light. My eyes catch themselves in the mirror, and it all starts coming back.
“I’ll leave you to remember, you always prefer to be alone during this.”
I’m back at the fire house, Hisao carries me in his arms out of the burning, hot air. We collapse onto the grass, my right side stings. He says something, strokes my hair, then rushes back inside. “I’m gonna go get Emi, I’ll be right back honey.”
She was staying with us that night, that night of all nights. I tried to stop him, but smoke and coughing stopped me. I watch him go back inside, tears streaking down my face. What feels like a few moments pass before the house collapses.
I keep staring at the woman in the mirror, looking at the bits of scarred flesh on my right side. I’m wearing nothing but an open button shirt and some panties, giving me a good idea of how far down the scars go. I think of toilet girl as I take myself in.
My vision blurs, the woman in the mirror starts to cry. I can’t quite make out what she’s saying. I feel crappy.
“Why did you choose her, Hisao?”
Anyways, this is set somewhere down the line after Rin's Good Ending. Enjoy
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Grief is a strange thing, like bananas with peanut butter. People say it tastes good, but then you try it and it’s different. Not bad, just different.
I don’t know how to handle this, do I change again? Or would it be better to stay the same? Grief is weird. Hisao once said grief takes time; I’m inclined to believe him since he lost people before, but they didn’t betray him, they just… stopped being in his life.
My foot moves across the canvas, numerous colors being left behind by the brush between my toes. I don’t think colors stay the same, my red is different from Emi’s red, or Hisao’s, but they’re all still red. Or is it orange? I think I heard somewhere once that orange used to be called red. The color on my brush stops shifting colors, settling on something between traffic cones and fire. Finally noticing my painting, I think it’s finished.
Fire consumes it, shreds of house mixed in with the flames and grass covering the bottom and clouds obscuring the sky. That’s what I see at least. People never know what I’ve painted and telling them what it is always makes it meaningless so I just listen. Maybe Nomiya will be happy this time, he’s been frustrated by my painting lately. He compares me to a famous painter from Europe, said something about it being abstract. He showed me it once, just looked like colors to me. Didn’t make any sense.
The paint dries, it’s dark outside the window. I don’t think it was dark when I finished, I didn’t pay attention. I’m good at forgetting things. Next thing I know the window is light again and there’s pain in my neck. Probably feel asleep sitting again. I’ve done that a lot lately.
Deeming the painting ready, I go to stand up to let Nomiya know... The floor is hard. The growl in my stomach means I haven’t eaten. From the floor, I focus on the window. I think it went dark twice since I last ate; Emi would be mad at me. Shuffling my chest side to side, I get the thingy Nomiya got me for when this happens and bite it. I think it lights up, I’m not paying attention.
The colors of outside change as I miss time passing. Wood scraping on wood tells me Nomiya is here. He speaks words, but words don’t mesh with my mind much these days. I feel hands grab my shoulder before lifting me up, some bottle being put to my mouth. Peanuts and bananas… Meiko probably made this. Emi loves this for some reason. I’d tell her it’s weird, but she doesn’t get to make it much these days. I keep quiet.
Mushy brains snap into place, his words finally making sense. “What happened Rin, you have meals prepped in the fridge so you wouldn’t do this again. What would Emi say?” I stop listening.
Emi doesn’t say much, she does things. Bringing up what she would say means nothing. Besides, she left me here to go off with Hisao somewhere, who cares what she thinks? It doesn’t make sense, nothing makes sense. Why’d he choose her? He understood me, I even got that feeling you get when everything will be alright and he still left. “Selfish…”
Nomiya shakes his head, putting the shake on a table with a straw in it. “Finish this before you do anything else; I’ll take this painting and put it with the rest.”
“Where they go to die?” The look in my eyes seethes anger and regret, but I’m not sure where it comes from. My body does things on it’s own occasionally.
“We talked about this Rin, until you’re doing better none of your art is going into a gallery. It was hard enough on you before all this.” In my mind I’m far away, not recognizing what he says.
My body has other intentions. “And I hate it. You got me to paint for others but now it all just comes back and does nothing. Why did you do this to me?”
I don’t look at him, but his voice says something’s wrong. “Who do you think I am?” Laying on the floor again, I curl and maneuver my body to look at him.
The belly is similar, but his typical red coat and ugly tie are gone, same with his pants, replaced by comfy sky pajamas. “... Nurse?”
He nods his head. “Give it time, it’ll slowly come back to you, it always does.” He walks back over, motioning to help me stand up. I nod. “Mirrors seem to help. Come on, lets go to your restroom.” Seems I have control over my body again.
He guides me to a door, opens it, and inside I see him and another woman with short, auburn red hair. She’s kinda like my mother, but lanky and without arms. He clicks something to my right, flooding the room with light. My eyes catch themselves in the mirror, and it all starts coming back.
“I’ll leave you to remember, you always prefer to be alone during this.”
I’m back at the fire house, Hisao carries me in his arms out of the burning, hot air. We collapse onto the grass, my right side stings. He says something, strokes my hair, then rushes back inside. “I’m gonna go get Emi, I’ll be right back honey.”
She was staying with us that night, that night of all nights. I tried to stop him, but smoke and coughing stopped me. I watch him go back inside, tears streaking down my face. What feels like a few moments pass before the house collapses.
I keep staring at the woman in the mirror, looking at the bits of scarred flesh on my right side. I’m wearing nothing but an open button shirt and some panties, giving me a good idea of how far down the scars go. I think of toilet girl as I take myself in.
My vision blurs, the woman in the mirror starts to cry. I can’t quite make out what she’s saying. I feel crappy.
“Why did you choose her, Hisao?”
