Dreams of the Quill

So I was reading the story of Nurse-kun yesterday afternoon, and it got me thinking. Thinking quite a bit really. I guess it caused me to enter “emo writer mode” or something stupid like that, and I decided that work on HC was best postponed a bit. Then, last night, on a whim, I rewatched episodes 10-12 of Kannazuki no Miko. Damn that show is good. Anyway, before the opening of episode 11 starts, the purple sun rises and Himeko narrates something about it being the world’s final day. I work well on association, so I took that and went with it.

And yes, this is ultra-short (like, less than a page), but I figured making it longer could only compromise whatever integrity it holds. Enjoy.

This is the last sun, signaling the end of the world.

With its dawn, you, your family… your friends, acquaintances, enemies… me…

We will all vanish.

Have you ever considered what it would be like to die? You haven’t? Ask your family. Ask your friends, your acquaintances, your enemies. Ask me. Someone must have considered it. After all, we will all vanish. Some say later rather than sooner. Some say sooner rather than later. Your family, no doubt, assures you that there is no end. Your friends, your acquaintances, your enemies, they all discuss it with what can only be described as apathy towards the factual.

“What do I say?

Until today, you never asked me what I say. Can you feel it, perhaps? Can you feel that this sun is different from any previous sun? Can you feel its overbearing weight? You sense something off and you come running to me. Why not your family? They can comfort you. They live to comfort you. Until today, they’ve never failed. You must sense something off.”

But honestly, why come to me?

You know what I’ll say. I’ll tell you that today is the last day. You know what I’ll say. I’ve said it dozens of times before. You know what I’ll say. For some reason, it upsets you. You know what I’ll say. For some reason, you ask anyway. You know what I’ll say. It’s meaningless.

If I were to try to explain my reasoning, would you be less upset? Would you talk normally? Or would you just eye me suspiciously and remain silent? No matter your reaction, it will be exaggerated. To hear the same thing again and again, and yet to treat it as though it were news… it’s a bit… disgusting. And maybe that’s why I continue to tell you my story, day after day. I want to see you react. I want to confirm that you’re disgusting.

Maybe that way, when the last sun does rise, I won’t feel any regrets.