Work Text:
faded blue.
in all honesty, this meant nothing to him...
turning the old plush in his hand, natsuhi shimura sighs. running a hand down his face, he opens his eyes again to see it looking at him again. he didn't really remember why he brought it with him in the first place.
a blue monkey.
looking back on it now, it'd always been kind of cheap, hadn't it? once fuzzy and soft, it'd hardened over years of not moving or swinging around. the velcro paws, stocked with dust and flyaway string, probably a few loose threads from a jacket the toy had roomed with.
he doesn't care enough to clean it off, or even really pick at it. instead, he finds himself running his fingers across it, fingertips brushing against miniature, clogged hooks.
this was supposed to be his.
yeah.
the memory is faded; a part of him doesn't want to look back on it, but the other pushes forward.
because what would hating that say about him?
that he didn't want to remember his dad?
he recalls it, vaguely- old hands bending his fingers around the grip of an air rifle. palms on his shoulders, pushing them down to relax. firm and steady.
hey, he'd said that, once, hadn't he?
natsuhi resists the urge to chuckle. what is there to laugh about now?
he remembers passing it down to his brother. he didn't need it, anyway. so why was it here now?
he guessed fuyuki was just nice like that.
...
he guesses fuyuki's still nice now.
the memory passes as he shakes his head, gripping the innocent monkey in his hands. why was he here again? oh, right. cleaning up old junk.
natsuhi looks around the room, sighing. pretty late, and he had better things to check up on than... this.
he eyes the toy monkey again, holding it up to eye level by the arm. it dangles in front of him, dusty and stained. he could probably machine wash this if he really wanted. it'd at least be a bit bluer than it is now. and he probably had a lint collector somewhere that could unclog its hands. he probably could relive this again, a thousand times over, prolonging the past.
what had fuyuki named it again?
banana?
natsuhi lets out a short breath, before tossing it into the junk box.
in all honesty, this meant nothing to him...
life goes on, doesn't it? and bananas spoil easily.