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Submitted on
June 4, 2012
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The good of the village by purplekecleon The good of the village by purplekecleon
Was it even possible that she could grow to love him?

Hmm. Where did that phrase come from in the first place? It was from her mother, wasn’t it? The exact context was lost, but it stuck out to her as a phrase related to Twigs. Grow to love...

It seemed really counter-intuitive. Wasn’t love a do or don’t thing? How could you grow to love someone?

Maybe she’d do it. She might learn. In this frozen moment? It seemed ludicrous to consider. She would try very, very hard to love this fussy fellow. Wouldn’t that be for the good of the village?

Oh, she was almost sure of it. It was definitely her mother who used that phrase... but about whom? Who was she talking to? Thinking back, sitting in the kitchen, listening to the soft waves outside their home at night... a warm breeze coming in from the window...

Yes, that was absolutely it. Her mother had been talking to both PK and Anana. Then the conversation turned toward love, for some reason or another. Context, context... what was it? Something about their father. Something about...

No, that wasn’t quite it! And then the memory and the moment passed, and PK snapped back into watching Nibble pick up the two ruined pieces of “goldy” and return to his back room.

Twigs propped himself up on the counter with his two front paws. He sniffed the air with interest in Nibble’s general direction, and then began his wait. If there was a thing that could be said about any cat-like Pokemon, it was that they knew how to present themselves as patient beings.

And so, Twigs sat like this for a good many moments, stoic as a statue. PK was immensely bored. Sure, the smell of the fish was pretty appetizing and a little revitalizing, but she kind of wanted someone to casually banter with. There was no such someone to be found here. She propped both cheeks up with her tiny hands and then let her face slide down dramatically. Twigs paid her no heed, waiting for his meal. This wasn’t the reaction she really wanted, she realized. No one was telling her how rude she looked, or to sit up straight, or to mind herself...

Fine. She, too, could patiently wait. She could play this game that came inherently to cats.

Or, maybe not. Ten minutes later (or was it? it could have been two, or thirty, for all she knew) and she was about to go mad. How did anyone go this long without talking? This would have been a good time to drift off into daydreaming, but the smell of the approaching mealtime kept her awake and ready to eat. It was torture enough to her. No food, no sleep! A brief, yet accurate, summary of her past two weeks.

Things she’d previously been able to overlook or ignore became unbearable. For instance, at that very moment, there was some sort of festival or activity taking place nearby, but not next to, sushi hut. This wouldn’t have been a problem, but the steady bass tones from some sort of large brass instrument played erratically. It might have been a nice song, but all she could really make out was that rumbling. She curled her fingers, her toes, and yes, her tail, as if she could release all of the tension through this tiny act. It didn’t work. Instead, it started to bottle and swell inside of her.

That’s really annoying. That’s so annoying. That’s so annoying, I wish they’d die, she thought. She continued this steady mantra in her mind for a minute or two. Her tired color returned to its former sullen, sinister shade. She might have covered up her tiny ear holes if the sound wasn’t so pervasive, if the sound didn’t resonate in her bones instead of her eardrums. What was there even to be done? Screaming wouldn’t work. She had no excuse to scream, anyway. No one was engaging her in conversation. She was all too aware of that. Her stomach gnawed at her as the hunger finally sunk in. She wanted to cry, but several things kept her from doing so. First off, she wasn’t hurt. She was tired and hungry, sure, but nothing was bringing tears to her eyes. Second off --and she hated to admit this, but--no one was around to afford her pity. Wasn’t that the primary reason why she’d ever cried? It wasn’t often, but it worked well when she needed to pull that card. Though...

Thinking back on it, PK couldn’t really recall the last time she’d used crying as a tool to move those to do what she wanted. That was more Anana’s game, wasn’t it? she thought. Anana knew how to turn that trick every time. When did that start? She wasn’t always like that, was she?

Nevermind. Nevermind that, I don’t care.

And the truth behind the third reason she wouldn’t, and couldn’t, break down into tears right then was because she’d simply exhausted her supply over the past couple of weeks. Sandy had come to comfort her for the first two (or was it three?) days after everyone had come back to Tao, but PK had detected that Sandy felt awkward and uneasy about the entire situation. Why? She didn’t know, but suspected it had something to do with Maple. Sandy and Maple had been hanging out together near daily. The first day that Sandy didn’t come home early in the evening, PK had locked her door and slept in the ruined room alone. It probably was a mean thing to do, but Sandy said nothing of it the next day. It only confirmed what PK wanted to know: that she was replaceable and no one would care if she dropped contact.

Well... somewhere faintly inside her mind, she knew that Sandy was still just a kid and didn’t need or deserve the heavy burden of lovesick grief. That wasn’t a kid’s job. Perhaps this contributed to her decision to stop letting Sandy sleep in her bed (and really, to mostly stop talking to the girl), but it was also the bitter jealousy she held toward Maple. Fine, let her have her little friend. I’ll just be alone.


Part 10 of "The Dates"


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MutuOfFinland Jan 5, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
I love the colors <3
shadowyoshigamernerd May 28, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
story of 100 styles, eh?
even though this semi-realistic-3d thing is far removed from what i consider your "typical" style, it still looks very you-ish.
Lazyhog Mar 13, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
You know PK, there's an entire trope (from PMD-Explorers's tvtropes...duh) dedicated to how your art changes for every pic in The Dates :B

Just pointing that out ;)
Wow l absolutely love all the hints to her missing her old partner not just the color but her wanting to be corrected for posture and the banter It all is simply just brilliant
Uruboros Jun 10, 2012  Professional Writer
I love interesting textures and lighting that feel realistic yet not at the same time. Great job!
I loved this story. PK's emotions are similar to my own. I'm beginning to resonate with her.
Fawa1 Jun 5, 2012  Professional Digital Artist
Oooh the kitty looks so real. :)
wow really nice
Drakonias115 Jun 4, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
Amazing job on the detail.
minkipp Jun 4, 2012  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
That one was really well done. :) Good job!
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