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Dear Big Brother

It was a lively Sunday afternoon at 1173 Juniper Street. In the living room, Maka flipped through old scrapbooks her mom had placed on the coffee table. A framed photo of Nimi in his red cap and gown sat atop their fireplace. He’d graduated earlier that summer, and in a few days, would be halfway across the world at university. Friends and family had gathered at their home to say goodbye. Maka watched her mom carry food into the backyard, where guests milled about. Across the room, people oohed and aahed as her father recounted how Nimi led his basketball team to the championships. Nimi stood next to him, interjecting comments and earning laughter each time.

Maka focused on the scrapbook, sifting through pages of Nimi’s childhood artwork. She’d entered the world three years after him and had been playing catch-up ever since. Once, Maka had been proud to call the talented Nimi her brother. But his reputation preceded her. She grew tired of being “Nimi’s little sister” and the disappointment that everyone showed when they inevitably realized: she was completely unlike her brother. Nimi spoke three languages, got straight As, and had won a gazillion different awards. Maka wasn’t completely useless but anything she did, Nimi did better.

For her tenth birthday, she’d asked for violin lessons. Nimi had sworn that he had zero interest in music so she saw her chance to finally shine. Months passed and she saw little improvement, to the frustration of her violin teacher and the disappointment of her parents. One week after she quit, Nimi asked for piano lessons. Obviously, he was a natural. Maka couldn’t let him win, so the violin lessons resumed. One day, Nimi asked to play together and her violin screeched while his piano sang. So she practiced relentlessly. But to this day, Nimi remained the star.

Today, they would perform a duet for their guests and Maka was determined to outdo him. She turned to the scrapbook’s final pages which displayed a drawing she had made as a child: a boy and girl holding hands surrounded by the words “Dear Big Brother, I will miss you.”

Nimi’s class had gone camping and she had cried after learning he would be gone for a whole weekend. It was their first time being separated. Beside the drawing was a photo of them as kids, laying on the staircase, smiling into the camera. She remembered that moment. They’d been racing their toy cars down the stairs. Maka tried to remember when they’d stopped hanging out. They only ever spent time together when playing music. She glanced up, meeting Nimi’s eyes through the crowd. It was time.

Moments later, their guests had moved into the “music room”, an open room with large windows that housed Nimi’s grand piano and Maka’s violin. Nimi sat at the piano while Maka nestled her violin under her chin. She fumbled with the bow as she raised it. This was their first duet in front of a crowd.

Nimi smiled reassuringly. “Pretend that we’re playing together for fun, like normal.”

How could a battle in which Nimi constantly emerged victorious be fun? But watching Nimi’s eyes brighten as he poised his fingers over the keys made her pause. It was kind of… fun.

The crowd hushed as Nimi began to play. Maka thought about her drawing as she pressed her bow to the strings, suddenly dreading the close arrival of her solo debut. Her violin soared, carried by the wings of her brother’s piano.

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OMORI Original Soundtrack - 175 Duet

Also known as Final Duet.

A piano and violin duet played siblings one last time before they part ways.

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Brother and Sister Love by Sweenshots & Shaymore on www.stocksy.com

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Just For Fun

Katherine pushed open the window of her grandmother’s playroom, welcoming the summer breeze. She repositioned her easel, sighing at the blank canvas on it. Normally, she spent her Sunday afternoons buried in textbooks but after her grandmother passed away and she had inherited her house on 1172 Juniper Street, she had dropped out of med school and whisked herself away from Toronto to the suburbs. The house was an exhibit of her grandmother’s life, from the porcelain dolls she collected as a child to the cat she’d adopted five years ago. Katherine could hear Marigold meowing somewhere in the house.

She arranged her paintbrushes on the table, next to the unopened set of Old Holland oil paints, her grandmother’s final birthday gift to her. When she’d started painting two years ago, her grandma had been thrilled and her parents… not so.

“This seems like a distraction, Katherine May,” her mother had said when she revealed her very first oil painting.

“What do you hope to achieve with this?” her father had asked.

Katherine had shrugged. “It’s just for fun.”

It was her grandmother who taught her how to have fun. “It’s important to work diligently my dear, but we must also play just as diligently as we work, if not more.”

So Katherine had decided that she would dedicate her next painting to her grandmother, using her new oil paints. But she had made this decision months ago and still, the canvas remained blank. She’d spent most of the past summer in her grandmother’s playroom trying to overcome her artist block. It had been her grandmother’s favourite room in the house, although as a child Katherine hadn’t understood why her grandma called it the playroom.

“But, grandma there’s nothing to play with in this room.”

“My dear, as long as you’re having fun, you’re playing.”

It took a few years to realize her grandmother was right. Stacks of books were scattered throughout the room. Danish cookie tins filled with sewing and knitting materials were placed next to the sewing machine on the table at the back of the room. A wooden chest full of board games was propped against one wall and the adjacent wall was lined with giant vases of tall house plants. On the coffee table between two armchairs was an unfinished jigsaw puzzle of Big Ben and an old record player next to a pile of mid-century jazz albums.

This was how her grandmother had played. If she were to find inspiration anywhere, it would be in this room. She could almost hear her grandma tsking. “You’re working too hard Katherine May”, she would say. “You paint to have fun right? So have fun! The paint and brush are your toys.”

Katherine closed her eyes and saw herself as a child spending hours on the carpet of the playroom, scribbling with crayons.

From out of the silence emerged the sound of a piano and violin, weaving in and out of each other. Katherine opened her eyes and turned towards the opened window through which the music streamed in along with the breeze. Marigold pranced into the room and hopped gracefully onto the windowsill, lying down among a stack of books. Katherine picked up the set of oil paints.

“I guess you’ll have to do, Marigold.”

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Video footage from "Old Holland Classic Colours. Since 1664." on YouTube by Old Holland Classic Colours.

Song: Duet from OMORI original soundtrack.

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Dreaming in Colour III: Impressions by Karen Mathison Schmidt

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1/2 Yellow Onion Chopped

Eighteen-year-old Noah had arrived with the summer, joining Nicky, Nonso, Nadhir, and Nigel as the newest and youngest roommate at 1174 Juniper Street. Now, months later, Noah was spending his Sunday in bed, blowing noisily into tissues while playing Pac-Man on his phone.

“You know, being sick really makes me miss home,” he had told his roommates. Whenever he’d fall sick, he would play old video games while his parents made him chicken noodle soup. Then when he got better, they’d go to the movies to celebrate.

“Wow,” Nonso had deadpanned. “Parents really do act different when you’re an only child. When I got sick, my mom made me do chores.”

Noah was usually all smiles but had been glum the past few days. He seemed to be thinking only of home, sharing stories about his family, friends, and Mr. Poodle, his labrador retriever. According to Nigel, Noah wasn’t simply plagued by a sickness of the body, but also a sickness of the heart. Their only response to that had been a collective sigh. They suspected his corny lines were the result of Nicky introducing him to telenovelas.

But they had to admit that Noah seemed pretty homesick and it was his first time away from home. So Nicky came up with an idea. Good ol’ reliable Nicky. He disappeared into his bedroom and emerged with a plastic binder, placing it on the kitchen counter and flipping through it as Nonso, Nadhir, and Nigel gathered around him. It was a collection of recipes his mom, Cheryl, had created for him when he moved out a few years back. Whenever he’d get homesick, he’d make one of his mom’s recipes. He searched through the binder until he found what he was looking for. “Aha! This calls for some grocery shopping. Any volunteers?”

“Not me,” Nonso and Nadhir chimed in unison.

“Mannn,” whined Nigel.

Once Nigel returned with the ingredients, they got busy. Nicky was head chef. “I’ll cut up the chicken. Nonso, four carrots and four celery sliced! Nadhir, one package of mushrooms sliced! Nigel, half yellow onion, chopped!”

Nigel made it through a quarter yellow onion chopped before he turned to Nadhir, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Hey man, switch with me.”

Nadhir sighed.

The kitchen was soon filled with the sounds of cooking, laughter, and intermittent coughs coming from upstairs. They finished before the end of the afternoon and the warm aroma of chicken noodle soup enveloped the house.

“Hey, you guys hear that?” Asked Nigel.

“What?”

“That music? Like a piano… and a violin?”

Cue the collective sigh.

“Dude this isn’t a soap opera,” Nonso rolled his eyes.

They made their way upstairs to Noah’s room, Nicky at the front carrying a bowl of soup.

“Woah, you guys made me this?” Noah was wide-eyed.

“We thought it’d make you feel better,” Nadhir smiled.

Nonso nodded. “Yeah, and once our delicious creation works its magic, we can go see a movie.”

“C’mon, try it!” Urged Nigel.

Noah shoved a spoonful into his mouth and swallowed.

“How is it?” Nicky asked.

Noah thought they’d been too generous with the salt. Still, the memories of his parents preparing a steaming pot of chicken noodle soup danced across his eyes. He thought he could hear the sound of a piano and violin playing somewhere in the distance.

He smiled at his roommates. “I feel better already.”

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Video footage from "Ultra-Satisfying Homemade Chicken Noodle Soup Recipe" by Inspired Taste on Youtube.

Song: Duet from OMORI original soundtrack.

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