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February Writing Prompts 2022
February is here! We hope you're all recovering well from the holidays, it's certainly been a busy season. Make yourself a cup of a nice hot drink, dress warmly, and enjoy your favorite indoor activity! I know I will be. And As always--
Disclaimer: I never close old writing prompts from previous months. People can and should be encouraged to post on old month's prompts and I highly encourage players to track these posts to catch stragglers or new people writing on old prompts.
Now. With that out of the way, onto this month's prompts.
1. Coming up for air.
2. "Don't you slam doors in my face I'm not done talking to you--"
3. Forever is a long time.
4. The embodiment of coziness.
5. "Pretty sure everyone But Them knows they're dating at this point."
Bonus image prompt:
1. Coming up for Air
3. Forever is a long time
no subject
Image Prompt - An Uchiwa Fireside Chat
Itaru glanced up from the book he was reading, marked his place and then set it aside. “I was waiting for you.”
The boys had both returned home for Minoru’s American Ninja Warrior qualifiers, which would take place in a few short days. But being on the night shift schedule as Minoru usually was, this was the first time Itaru had really gotten to talk his youngest son since they arrived that morning.
“Hm?” Minoru asked as he helped himself to some of the leftover rice in the rice cooker, along with some of the kale kobachi.
“I was curious as to how your classes were doing.” He began. Minoru’s head dipped at the sound of complete sincerity. “Isamu routinely kept me updated on your accomplishments over the first two semesters, but he’s been tight-lipped on the subject since January.”
Of course, of all the possible topics of conversation, that would be first and foremost on his father’s mind.
“That’s… because there’s nothing to really talk about.” Minoru replied hesitantly. He offered up a halfhearted shrug, keeping his back turned and his expressions hidden. He opened a couple of drawers, looking for clean chopsticks. “He really hasn’t said anything?”
“Nothing at all.” Itaru shook his head. “Is something wrong?”
“No! No, nothing’s wrong…” he answered quickly, and then sighed. “Well, you might think it’s wrong…”
Minoru stared into his bowl, listening to his father slowly sip his tea. Kind of like his tattoo, it wasn’t exactly something he could keep hidden forever. Unlike his tattoo, though, he didn’t think his father would take the news so calmly.
“I… dropped out.”
The silence stretched into uncomfortable awkwardness. Eventually, Minoru turned around. Itaru motioned for his son to come and sit by the fireplace.
With a defeated sigh, Minoru acquiesced, walking into the living room like a scolded puppy with his tail between his legs. His downcast eyes found the texture of the rice distractingly captivating - at least, until Itaru addressed him by name.
“Minoru.” He said softly, but sternly. “Why did enroll in the program in the first place?”
He’d honestly been expecting the same lecture he’d heard since he was ten about not living up to his potential, so the question took him by surprise.
“To become a PTA?” He floundered for an answer.
Itaru nodded, giving his son a few moments to let his mind settle. “Why did you want to become a PTA?”
Minoru was quiet. His bowl felt warm in his hands, but not uncomfortably so.
“I love to move. I’ve always loved to move.” He smiled with a hint of nervous laughter. “Out of all the things I do everyday as an orderly, getting somebody up and walking, helping them move… that’s what I find most rewarding. So I thought… maybe I could do more of that.”
Itaru listened quietly, attentively, muttering the usual verbal fillers but otherwise holding his tongue. He waited patiently after Minoru finished speaking so as not to accidentally interrupt.
“Has that desire changed?”
“No.” Minoru shook his head.
“Why did you decide to drop out?”
Minoru’s head dipped again, his unruly hair falling in front of his eyes. Itaru might not have been able to see his son’s expression, but he watched Minoru’s fingers grip the bowl a little tighter. He knew his son was wrestling with the answer.
“I promise to withhold any judgment.” He encouraged gently. “Please, tell me what’s on your mind.”
“I… I couldn’t take it anymore.” He whispered timidly. It was an unusual tone of voice for Itaru to hear from his overly boisterous son. He leaned closer, waiting for Minoru’s words to come. They soon did, and they didn’t stop. “All the classes, the reading, the homework, the tests… Waking up early every afternoon to sit for hours in a classroom, trying so hard to pay attention, and then putting in a full night’s shift… Coming home to even more studying, or to Isamu wanting to quiz me with the flash cards he made… I didn’t have any time leftover to train. I barely had any time to work out. I was so tired, that even if I could have been training, I would have probably crashed and burned…”
His voice trailed off. He looked up at his father, who wisely stayed silent.
“Papa… by the time exams were over in December, and I actually had a break…” Minoru gulped. “It got to the point where all I wanted to do was lay there.”
That fact actually scared him far more than any amount of disapproval Itaru might come back with.
“Because your entire purpose for becoming a PTA relied on your love of movement.” Itaru summarized succinctly.
“Yeah.” Minoru nodded. “That’s not the kind of PTA I wanted to be. It’s not the kind of person I want to be either.”
Itaru leaned back, taking it all in.
On principle alone, he was disappointed in his son’s decision to drop out of the program. He was as devout a scholar as he was a Shintoist, and always had been. His wife, too, had the same passions. It was what attracted them to each other during his second year (and her first) at the prestigious University of Tokyo school of engineering. Isamu had inherited that mindset and those values, and because of that, he always understood his eldest son very well. Minoru, on the other hand…
When the boys were children, Itaru firmly believed that both of them were capable of excellence. All they needed to do was apply themselves - something that Minoru frequently chose not to do. Over the years, Itaru suspected boredom, laziness, spite, perhaps even an undiagnosed psychological disorder. (Undiagnosed, because they never took Minoru to be tested for ADHD or anything like it.)
It wasn’t until the twins were grown that he began to appreciate the unique kind of excellence both of them were capable of. Isamu’s gifts were tailor-made for academic success. But Minoru, who was extremely gifted in proprioception, found success in a different way. Granted, it was a way that Itaru felt was not sustainable. As a biomedical engineer, he knew the science. The human body rarely carried on at peak performance beyond the start of middle age. The classes that Minoru was taking now would prepare him for a perfect career shift later in life.
But saying so, the same way he used to express his disappointment in those C-average report cards, would not benefit anyone now. Minoru had grown up. Fortunately, Itaru had grown up too.
“Minoru, you may not know this… but you are not the first Uchiwa to drop out of a college program.”
His head shot up, and his jaw dropped.
“You?” He asked, incredulously.
“Oh, absolutely not.” Itaru quickly shook his head. “But my younger brother, your uncle Sasuke. He dropped out of undergraduate, two years into his pre-med degree.”
“He did?”
“He did.” Itaru confirmed.
“But he’s an MRI tech.”
“He is now, yes. After a few years, he went back to school - part time, while he was working - and eventually finished his degree. You boys were just finishing up kindergarten when he got his bachelors. So you might not remember all the details.”
“Not really. I mainly just remember him as an x-ray tech.” Minoru shook his head. “But I remember Aunt Hanako talking him into upgrading his certifications. Before she even became Aunt Hanako.”
Itaru nodded. Minoru glanced down at his breakfast again.
“So… why did he drop out?”
“I cannot fully speak for all of his motivations…” Itaru confessed. “But I believe a lot of it - very similar to what you described - had to do with the pressure.”
Minoru’s head tilted curiously.
“You boys never met your grandfather - he passed away before you were born - but he was quite the stickler for academics. When he and your grandmother were growing up, Akayo was still a rural village. Nanyo, as a municipality, hadn’t been created yet. Like all fathers, he wanted his sons to have opportunities that he didn’t have. And rarely would he accept no for an answer.” Itaru revealed. “I was already in America at the time, finishing my masters with a prospective job offer on the way. But Sasuke was still, as he often put it, busting his butt to live up to Papa’s expectations. He finished out the semester, but at that point, he had enough. He dropped out, got a license for breeding snakes of all things. Tried to make a career out of it for a little while, doing odd jobs to make ends meet…”
Minoru listened intently. He always knew Uncle Sauske bred snakes - it was the highlight of every trip he got to take to Japan - but he didn’t know when or why he started. Or that he dropped out of college.
“What I want you to take away from this, Minoru, is not just that he dropped out or even that he later went back. But that when he did, he did so in a way that worked well for his life and his priorities. And I would hope that you do the same thing.”
It wasn’t the conventional path their father expected him to take, but Sasuke had a fulfilling career, a wonderful family and an all around good life. And that, beyond grades or degrees, was what Itaru truly wanted for his boys.
“They offer online classes.” Minoru volunteered, albeit hesitantly. “I think that would be easier, at least for me. I wouldn’t have to sit in a classroom. I could do the work from anywhere.”
Itaru nodded. “That would suit you.”
“And I could do them one at a time, instead of all at once.”
He nodded again, humming in agreement.
“But I’m not doing anything, not even thinking about doing anything, until the Finals are over.” He insisted. It was said with the most confidence he’d expressed so far. “Assuming I make it through qualifiers again, of course.”
Itaru leaned forward, poking Minoru gently on the forehead.
“Even with the setbacks, I am sure you have trained hard. I have high expectations for your performance this weekend.” He smiled softly. “We can talk more about your studies later. When you are ready.”
Minoru smiled. “Thanks, Papa.”
“Now, go reheat your breakfast. It has likely gone cold.”