Not while the fever of the blood is strong,
The heart throbs loud, the eyes are veiled, no less
With passion than with tears, the Muse shall bless
The poet-should to help and soothe with song.
Not then she bids his trembling lips express
The aching gladness, the voluptuous pain.
Life is his poem then; flesh, sense, and brain
One full-stringed lyre attuned to happiness.
But when the dream is done, the pulses fail,
The day's illusion, with the day's sun set,
He, lonely in the twilight, sees the pale
Divine Consoler, featured like Regret,
Enter and clasp his hand and kiss his brow.
Then his lips open to sing-as mine do now.
"Life and Art" – Emma Lazarus
01. "Oil Paint"
A red cloud.
A single, red cloud.
He glanced at the graffiti covering the opposite wall for a moment, distracting himself from the scene playing out before them all. Eight boys and one girl, all standing in a certain order that only they knew, all tense and posed to fight. He was one of the eight, faithfully there in body but not in mind. No. He had an artist's mind; always wandering, always searching for something bigger. Something better. He fleetingly glanced at the red cloud once more.
He wanted to say that he couldn't be bothered with all of this mess... Yet, as good of a liar as he was, he couldn't lie to himself. All nine teens might as well have been a family. His family. Wherever they went, he was sure to follow. That's just how it was. No arguments. No questions.
The red cloud was suddenly illuminated by the sunset; searing rays of light filtered through the alleyways and into the courtyard area they all assembled. A warm gust of wind, tainted with the very beginnings of winter's chill, suddenly blew through the four alleyways leading to the courtyard. He didn't realize he was sweating until the wind, though mostly warm, made him shiver.
Blue eyes once more shifted in the direction of the red cloud. The last rays of the sun died down as the shadows grew longer. The red cloud faded into the darkness, along with the rest of the concrete jungle. Only the shadows of the nine teens were visible… Along with the shadows of a few other individuals who were previously hidden from the original nine.
He took a sharp breath, tying back a portion of his long, blonde hair.
"Well. I'm glad you could make it."
Now the world was completely engulfed in shadows. It grew colder, the warm sun now completely gone. Police sirens wailed in the background, fading out of mind. The Concrete Jungle grew silent.
It was nighttime.
They came alive in the night.
Such was the world of the Red Dawn.
"Pity we had to meet this way. Maybe next time you'll think about taking what isn't yours."
"Hah."
And with that, the nine shadows descended on their victims; the darkness of the night hiding yet another act that will bring a red dawn the next day.
A red cloud.
A single, red cloud.
It wasn't exactly an odd thing to find, I supposed.
Not in terms of graffiti, at least.
It was the biggest thing painted in the otherwise desolate alleyway. Only the occasional name was sloppily scrawled in the spaces beside it, and even these were faded. The cloud was the biggest, brightest bit of artwork there, rising above all the other pieces as if it was the best. Their superior, one could say.
…It was a little bit silly to think that way about just some graffiti sprayed on an alleyway's wall. Not like graffiti could be superior in any way; most would regard it as trashy at first glance. Certainly not real art. Oh well.
I carefully brought out my camera (a consolation prize I managed to convince my father to buy shortly before the move), a big and awkward black monster compared to the slim, digital cameras everyone used now, and deftly snapped a picture of it. It looked cool.. I guess. Something colorful in a sea of concrete and steel. Yeah. That was a nice way to think about it.
"Sai? Sai, where've you disappeared to now?" a gruff voice called out from a window five stories above the courtyard I was standing in.
Introducing my father.
A static character in the story of my life; a rather plain and unassuming man on the outside. A strong personality on the inside…Yet still kind in his own, simple way . With gentle eyes. Yeah, that sounds like a poetic way to describe him. A giant with gentle green eyes.
"Coming!" I responded, even though I knew full well he wouldn't hear me. My voice, high and light as I liked to think of it, could never carry the way his did. I simply wasn't loud and outgoing like he was (strong personality and all). Meek and quiet was more like it. The city suddenly seemed more like a trap than ever. I sighed, snapping one final picture of the red cloud. In the light, it suddenly seemed bloody.
A shiver went up my spine as the last of summer's warm air blew through the alleyway and into the courtyard.
Tucking away the camera into a worn, second-hand case quickly, I made my way past the rusted metal gate of the courtyard and up the concrete steps. Fishing out the keys my father gave me this morning, I unlocked the dull, black door to the apartment complex. The cool air was refreshing as I stepped into the equally dull lobby. Nothing stood out of the ordinary, not from the black tiles to the forest-green walls. The chandelier would have been nice to take pictures of, had it not been for the fact that it was missing several pieces and the light wasn't working inside of it. All it looked like in the dim light was a dusty, twisted metal spider.
I sighed once more, heading for the elevator.
Fifth floor.
Murasaki Residence, Fifth Floor.
It didn't exactly have a nice ring to it.
I hadn't yet figured out exactly what brought my father (and myself, by default) to the city. It could have had something to do with the recent divorce, but he could have just as easily decided to go to the countryside. I would have liked that better than the crowded city. The city seemed to just be filled with dirty people, dirty money, and dirty air. At least the country would've had nicer things to take pictures of.
The numbers slowly flashed from one to two to three.
It could have also been the fact that my mother cheated on him with the gardener. Maybe he simply liked the city because you didn't need a gardener in an apartment. That seemed logical.
I guess.
Marriage and Divorce didn't seem very logical to begin with.
The way they made it seem, marriage only led to kids, money problems, and high rent.
Oh, and the occasional bottle of liquor hidden away under the sink.
I was seven when I decided I never wanted to get married.
And I was ten when I decided I wanted to be an artist.
(Or a princess, but that dream soon died when I found out that I would have to marry into a royal family for that to happen)
The elevator door slid open into a hallway that matched the color scheme of the lobby downstairs; green walls, black tiles, and black doors lining both sides of the hallway.
Making my way over to the door that read 5F, I opened it to reveal a decently sized apartment filled with boxes and bags and the two bicycles sitting in the corner of the kitchen that I couldn't convince my dad not to buy. Gingerly placing my camera case on top of a glass-topped table, I called out for my father to see if he has been eaten by the maze of boxes.
"Dad? I'm ho— Here. I'm here!" the door shut behind me with a loud thud as a muffled crashing noise was heard from one of the bedrooms.
"Where were you? I needed some help organizing everything. You know I'm not so," another crash came from the same room, "…Great with this kind of stuff"
"I was in the courtyard outside. It's a pretty decent spot for pictures; there's some interesting graffiti down there, you know?" The red cloud flashed in my mind for a moment, "I'll start with the kitchen."
"Thanks Sai, you're the best," I grunted in response, "I think you're going to like Konoha City. It's a very… Artsy place to live."
I sighed, shaking my head as I opened a box messily labeled "dishes".
The sun slowly began to set, illuminated the kitchen in a fiery glow through the large, open window on the end of the room. The city's skyline glowed red, almost appearing to be on fire. Police sirens began to wail from far off, and the roar of an airplane was increasing in volume steadily. I looked out once more at the image of the skyline set ablaze. Briefly, I considered getting my camera to take a picture, for the image was breathtaking. Beautiful, one might even say.
But before I could even get the camera case open, the sun moved a fraction of an inch out of place and the city lost its glow. It appeared bloody now, and frightening. I shivered, thinking of the bloody looking cloud downstairs and wishing for the beauty of the sunset to come back.
But that's how it is with these things.
They take your breath away.
And then they're gone forever.
END CHAPTER 1
Do you wish to continue?
Erm. Yeah.
This is all just some fiddle faddle I had in my head and randomly wrote.
It's been quite a while since I wrote fanfiction, haha.
I think it's a bit to confusing but whatever.
I hope it makes sense to you, the reader.
(I also hope you enjoy it c: )
Anyway. That's all.
Reviews are always greatly appreciated :)
xo