It's just Hizashi and Nemuri in the teachers room. He's seated at his desk in his office chair while Nemuri's using the surface of Shouta's desk as her seat. Itās something they know their friend will gripe about once he sees her there.
They're gossiping about their students, and nothing they're saying is of any real importance. Hizashi makes a stupid joke and Nemuri cackles at it, and it's nice. It's mundane, but it's everything Hizashi is longing for.
It's just a dream. Hizashi is fully aware that it is. An afterimage of several, similar memories that are all in the past. Memories that he'll never make again with the person he'll never see again. Not in the waking world, at least.
Because Nemuri is dead.
It's a terrible, miserable truth that he has to face every day out in reality. Itās a truth that he can only escape in his dreams, where even something as unexciting as shooting the shit at work with Nemuri becomes a fantasy he never wants to wake up from.
He just wants to stay here with her, sharing tired smiles as they lament the busy schedules they wouldn't change a thing about. Reveling in juvenile jokes they should have outgrown years ago. Teasing Shouta or working together to coax him out of his sleeping bag to come have a drink with them for once. Working together on the occasional chance they cross paths on patrol.
He just wants to stay here and leave the world that no longer includes her behind.
"Hizashi."
All background noise fades out and the room loses detail, dissipating like mist. He looks up at Nemuri and her expression has changed. She's still smiling, butā¦
She looks sad.
"Hizashi."
She's holding onto his hands, but he can barely feel it, even as he grasps back tightly. It feels like she's fading away all over again. A sinking anxiety pools up from his stomach until it's clogging his throat and he feels like he's drowning.
"Nem-"
"You have to let me go."
The words repeat over and over in his dreamspace. Crushing, threatening. He frantically shakes his head.
"What're you talking about?" He wants to laugh itās so ridiculous, so frightening. Let her go? How could he? For as long as he's known her, Nemuri had- no, has- been his rock, his confidant, his best friend. When they lost Oboro, when Shouta withdrew into the underground, when everyone else left him behind, Nemuri was still there. How can he now leave her behind? How can he let her go? Even if she's gone, can't he at least have this?
Can't he still have his dreams?
"You know this isn't good for you," she tells him, her lips pulling into a concerned frown. "You can't keep avoiding reality. All you do these days is sleep so you can come see me. But, Zashi-"
"Stop-"
"I'm gone," she says, and the truth hurts them both.
Nemuri closes her eyes, swallowing thickly. "I really wish I wasn't. You know there was so much more hell I wanted to raise," she laughs, but it's pained. When she looks at him again, her eyes are wet with tears, and he feels his own well up in return. "I wish I could have had more time with you, with everyone, butā¦" she shakes her head with disappointment and shrugs.
"It shouldn't have been you, Nem," Hizashi's lip wobbles, and he wants to scream and sob like a little kid. It's so unfair, why did she have to die? She didn't deserve it. "It should've- I should've-"
He doesn't even know what he's trying to say anymore. It shouldn't have been her. He should have been there for her. Hell, it should have been him-
"Shh, Zashi, sweetheartā¦"
He's fallen to his knees and she kneels with him, her arms wound around his shoulders as she tucks his face into the crook of her neck. He remembers all the times she held him like this, the times they grieved together, and now they grieve again. He clings on tight, and it feels like he's falling apart.
"It's so lonely without you," he tells her, "I miss you."
"I miss you, too."
Her figure is dissolving in his arms.
"I wanted to grow old together."
"I wanted that, too."
Her voice was so far away.
"Nemuri-"
"It's okay."
"Please don't-"
"It'll be okay, Hizashi."
"Please don't go!"
Hizashi opens his eyes with a gasp. For a few moments, heās disoriented, and so he lays there, his chest expanding unnaturally as he takes large, rapid breaths.
It takes him a moment to realize that heās awake.
Every day I handle more money than I will ever make. Every day.
At the start of my employment, my boss showed me videos of people stealing, and we both had a chuckle about it. How silly they were! There was a camera overhead, and itās not to watch the shoppers. See, we canāt actually stop shoplifters. They get away with it maybe nine out of ten times. But we, who are watched and tallied and witnessed? We are always caught.
At first it was hard to hold one hundred dollars bills. An amount I had never seen before. An amount that didnāt exist in my household. Itās normal now. Here is something that is not for me.
āWhat the hell, Iāll take another,ā says the man, pondering our 200 dollar watches. What the hell. Total comes to 580 and not even a flinch in his face. I have been working for 11 hours today and made only 110 dollars. It will go to my rent. Today I work for free, it feels. When I get my check, I will have 35 dollars left for food and saving.
The six hundreds he hands me go into the cash register. For a moment, I imagine having money. Then I put it away, counting out his change.
I know for a fact we sell our products for double what they are worth. That I could be making commission. That they could hand me those 580 dollars and change my life and not even mark the difference in their checkbooks. Heās not the only sale they make today, but I am the reason they made it. Heās not the only one spending 600 dollars, but if I hadnāt spent two hours with him telling me about his life, he wouldnāt have spent any. I go home. I donāt own a watch.
I have watched and rewatched a video on how to make salmon four ways. My shopping list is always the same. Pasta. Rice. Tuna. If I can afford butter it was a good week. I dream of the world I will never walk in, where I can throw the best fish fillet in the cart with a shrug. I hold hundreds in my hand and look up at the camera. I put them under the cash drawer.
I go to work. I scrap together my savings. I eat my bowl of rice slowly. My manager takes a paid week off from work just for his birthday. He owns a yacht.Ā
i wrote this while i was working at orlandoās walt disney world parks.
i was part of their college program. i moved to the state for it. they legally owned the building i was living in and still charged me rent. i ostensibly was being charged to work for them. it was a 2 bedroom apartment and they placed 6 adult women in it in forced triples.
as many as one in ten disney employees have experienced homelessness while working for the company. despite huge efforts to unionize, strike, or otherwise demand fair treatment; disney has refused to increase employee quality of life.
disney admits publicly that a good portion of their success is because the employees (ācast membersā) are dedicated, passionate, and selfless. this is never reflected in pay. even āfaceā characters (ie those that are princesses etc) make barely above a minimum wage.
at the time that i worked there, i made $8.50 an hour. at one point i was asked to create a human shield around a bag because a bomb dog had alerted to it. for eight fucking dollars an hour.
i now work a very cushy office job. i have bought the salmon and cooked it all four ways.
i go to the store. i am nice to the person behind the counter. she looks up at the camera while she counts out my change. there is nothing fundamentally different about her and i.
a Wild West adventure episode would have been nice. to cope with the show ending im going to draw a bunch of scenes like this of different episodes we could have had. im taking suggestions if anyone has any. Also hereās more:
david szymanski knowing about bloodymary is hilarious to me. imagine you're an indie horror game creator and a crazy popular gaming youtuber plays your game and loves it so much he turns it into a movie, starring himself. despite being self-funded and produced, it achieves a level of success and earnings so big there are articles written about it challenging hollywood. then a few months later a big hollywood movie comes out also set in space and now a large portion of fan content for your game is ship content of the youtuber's character and ryan gosling.
My new wallpaper using the Niagara launcher. I watched the movie *Project Hail Mary* on May 27, and ever since then Iāve been completely obsessed with everything related to this universe, especially after reading fanfiction featuring Simon and Grace. Theyāre my new favorite couple.
The artist's Instagram account: Hukaka
I started reading the book too, and my goodness, what a great book.
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