Portrait of a Mindscape
When Soubi's phone went off in the middle of a practical class, it surprised everyone that the normally dedicated student would pause to answer. It was positively shocking when Soubi abruptly dropped everything, threw on his coat, swiped Kio's keys, and took off like he was being pursued by a hoard of hungry demons. The half finished piece looked to some - mostly those familiar with Soubi's work - like half a butterfly. To everyone else, it looked like the beginnings of an opening blossom.
Kio made the executive decision that it was done. Soubi got full marks for the piece. Not that he particularly noticed or cared.
The next painting practical was two days later, and to Kio's utter dismay, Soubi brought Ritsuka. The rest of the class cooed over adorable little Rit-chan for a few minutes before remembering that they needed to be painting. Soubi set up a new canvas at his easel and looked at it contemplatively. Ritsuka pulled a volume of Western philosophy, opened it to where he had left off, and silently read until Soubi began to pace. At which point, Ritsuka marked his page, closed the book and made his way over to the agitated Soubi, who perked up considerably when Ritsuka focused on him.
"Sit," said Ritsuka. Soubi sat. "Remember the day we met?" Soubi nodded. "What do you recall from that day?" Ritsuka waited a moment. "Paint your memories."
And much to the amazement of those sitting around Soubi, he began to move with great purpose. Ritsuka returned to his book in the corner, and didn't get up until Kio kicked his foot at the end of the class. With a sigh, Ritsuka closed his book and looked up at Kio.
"D'you think he's going to paint anything worthwhile if you just order him?" demanded Kio.
"I'm not Seimei," said Ritsuka flatly, packing up his belongings and standing. "What I told him to paint means something to him as well. So it'll be real, even if it isn't like his butterflies. Besides, he asked for help."
"What, through your weird connection?" asked Kio. "How the hell are you any different from your brother?"
Ritsuka turned hungry eyes on Kio. "I care about Soubi. I have real friends. I'm honest with everyone in my life. And, most importantly, I'm alive."
Up close, Ritsuka looked tired. His neck was bandaged almost as heavily as Soubi's, and a fading black eye coloured half his face. His hands were also neatly bandaged. His ears drooped and his usually expressive tail was still. His violet eyes were still the most vibrant thing about him, but they were even more vivid against his grey-tinged skin. That worried Kio slightly; he brushed it off. Ritsuka was Seimei's brother: manipulation was in his nature.
"Ritsuka?" called Soubi, catching the grade-schooler's attention. "Will you come and see it?"
Ritsuka crossed over to Soubi, with Kio following close behind. Soubi frowned slightly at his friend, and Ritsuka reached up and smoothed two fingers over Soubi's jawline. The painting itself was in sepia tones, with seemingly random leaves fluttering down in the middle over a picnic table surrounded by a halo of trees.
"It's like a constellation made out of leaves," said Ritsuka with a tiny little smile. "I can see it. It's perfect. Are you going to show it?"
"Maybe," said Soubi. "I'm glad it made you smile." I love you.
"If not, we'll have to find a place for it in the apartment," said Ritsuka decisively. I love you. Even though I can't say it.
"It's hardly one of your best pieces, Soubi," protested Kio.
"But it has real feeling in it," said Ritsuka. "And that's what makes it so fascinating to look at."
"I'll keep it in mind when I do my submissions for the art show," said Soubi. "Are you alright, Ritsuka?"
"A little dizzy," admitted Ritsuka. "I'm probably dehydrated."
"Or still concussed," said Soubi. That startled Kio.
"Maybe," conceded Ritsuka. "I don't have a headache, though."
"Why don't I drive you guys home?" asked Kio. "It'll spare you the hassle of cabs or public transit. Besides, I need to have a chat with you, Soubi."
"I think we'd appreciate that," said Soubi. Ritsuka nodded and leaned into Soubi. Soubi picked Ritsuka up and deposited him in one of the armchairs at the back of the room. By the time he had completely cleaned up, Ritsuka was sound asleep and promptly burrowed into Soubi's chest when Soubi carried him out to Kio's car. Kio watched them settle themselves in the backseat as he pulled the car out of the parking lot.
"So, what's the deal?" asked Kio.
"Two days ago, Ritsuka called me," said Soubi. "He rarely calls, so I knew something was up. He barely got through his request for me to come and get him before his mother broke down his bedroom door. When I got there, Ritsuka was unconscious and bleeding, as well as soaked with cold water. I think you can guess what happened in the time between the phone call and my arrival."
"His mother beat him up?" asked Kio incredulously. "Where was his father?"
"He walked out after Seimei died," said Soubi contemptuously, "and left Ritsuka alone with his very unstable mother. Ritsuka's school friends don't know; his homeroom teacher suspects, but is so young and so meek that she can't help him. He needs me Kio. Me, not just anyone who comes along that he can influence. He needs me."
And Seimei never did.
Kio pondered that for a moment. "So he's living with you now?"
"Yes," said Soubi. "I plan to talk to him about adoption soon. I just don't know if he'll let me just yet. I mean, once I explain it to him completely."
"Are you ready to settle down?" Kio wanted to know. "Cause adopting him is a big step. I mean, he isn't even out of elementary school yet."
"But there's no one else I want to be with for the rest of my life," said Soubi. He brushed Ritsuka's bangs back from his face gently. "Knowing that he's safe is soothing. I can't explain it, Kio. But I know that, regardless of circumstances, he's the one."
"Well, maybe one day I'll find my 'one'," said Kio cheerfully. "but I wish you luck with Rit-chan in the meantime. He's a handful."
"But that's what makes him so wonderful," said Soubi.
Ritsuka frequently found himself daydreaming in his classes. The past few weeks had been the most peaceful that he could remember. His injuries from his mother were mostly healed, and the sound of Soubi's heartbeat was infinitely relaxing to fall asleep to and wake up to. Soubi meant safety and home, two things that Ritsuka had not had since Seimei left his life. It was strangely wonderful.
"Ritsuka-kun," whispered his seat mate Yuiko. "I asked my mom if I could have you and Yayoi over for a sleepover this weekend. Do you want to come?"
"Sure," said Ritsuka, offering the irrepressible girl a smile. "Soubi will probably let me come."
"Are you living with Soubi then?" asked Yuiko excitedly. "That's so great. You look so much happier these days, I wondered if something good had happened. We'll celebrate with delicious and healthy foods!"
"Sounds good to me," said Ritsuka. "I think Kio wants Soubi to himself for a night. It'll be good for us both."
"Isn't your mom worried?" asked Yayoi.
"I don't really know," shrugged Ritsuka. "But I can't live with her anymore. And I think she knows that. So what do you want to do at the sleepover?"
"We can watch a movie," suggested Yuiko.
"Only if Ritsuka-kun doesn't pick," said Yayoi.
"What about board games?" asked Ritsuka. "That could be fun, right?"
"Sure!" said Yuiko. "Okay, board games, dinner and a movie it is. We'll all have separate futons to sleep on, so don't worry about sharing."
"Yuiko-saaaan!" wailed Yayoi.
"Did you want to share with me?" asked Ritsuka. "Soubi might get mad, you know."
Yuiko laughed. "He would, too!"
Soubi woke in the dead of night to find himself reaching for Ritsuka. The bed next to him was cold and empty, reminding Soubi that Ritsuka was out with his friends and would be back in the morning. Kio was sprawled out on the spare futon, drooling onto the pillow. Despite his exhaustion from the day, Soubi was wide awake and not ready to go back to sleep.
The large canvas hidden at the back of the stack was one that Soubi hadn't bothered to look at in a while. It was two feet by three, primed for oil paint, which was far from Soubi's favoured medium. Nonetheless, he pulled it out and propped it up on the easel he kept for painting at home. The oil paints given to him as a gift a year before were still good.
The painting seemed to appear like magic under the brush. All of the layers of shadows and highlights seemed to come in just the right colours and just the right places. Slowly, stroke by stroke, Soubi's nightmare came to life on the canvas.
When Kio woke up just after dawn, he glanced at the canvas, blanched, and went to make coffee for the two of them. Soubi didn't notice until Kio confiscated his paint palette and replaced it with a steaming mug of coffee. Soubi blinked at the rising sun, bewildered that he had painted through the night.
"Thanks," murmured Soubi as he sipped the coffee.
"No problem," said Kio. "Did you really have to paint that, Soubi?"
"I did," said Soubi.
"You," Kio informed him, "have some pretty sick fantasies."
"It's a recurring nightmare," said Soubi. "I read somewhere that if you draw a nightmare, you can trap it and then it will never bother you again. Thought I'd try it."
"It's still messed up," said Kio, shaking his head. "Are you going to submit it for the show?"
"Might do," said Soubi. "We'll see what Ritsuka says."
The art gallery was completely packed. Shinonome Hitomi scanned the room in a frantic search for her students, who were gawking at the university students' paintings. She gave up when she spotted Soubi in one corner, chatting away with his peers and professors.
Ritsuka led a small group of his classmates through the gallery. Several adult patrons listened carefully to his explanations of different pieces. In their perception, the child was either really observant, or really knew his art well. In Ritsuka's case, it was both, having helped set up the gallery the day before.
"Hey Ritsuka-kun," said Yuiko, "What about that one?"
"This is one of Kio's," said Ritsuka. "Even though he doesn't consider it one of his better pieces, I like it a lot. It was painted after there was an accident in his family, and nothing could help. It's the same landscape as the other two, but there is no tree from which the blossoms fall. Yet they're still clearly falling from something."
"So they're like tears, then," said Yuiko. "Cause even though you know that tears come from your eyes, you can't see really where they start." Yayoi and the two other girls with them nodded enthusiastically.
"Right," said Ritsuka. "I'll leave you to look at the last painting, then." Ritsuka hopped up on the bar behind him and looked out over the crowd. Yamato and Kouya were looking at an abstract piece in greens and blues near the front. Natsuo and Youji were eating fruit and puzzling out a painting off to one side. The Sleepless pair had run into the Fearless pair over by the statues, but clearly weren't going to start a fight. Kio had his daughter balanced on his shoulders. Ritsuka turned his attention back to the painting right in front of him.
It was almost a photograph. Seimei's cold violet eyes stared right out at the viewer, a tiny smirk on his lips. His black-clad arms and legs loosely wrapped around a very bandaged Ritsuka, who had one hand twined in Seimei's shirt. The want in picture-Ritsuka's eyes stood in sharp contrast to both Seimei's possessive pose and his own seeming need to hide. Crimson and sky blue butterflies sat on the ends of their tails. Soubi's signature.
"I've heard lots of good things about that one today," said Soubi, leaning against the bar next to Ritsuka. "The amazing detail, the colour, the contrasts. Yamato and Kouya want a print for their apartment."
"That's great," said Ritsuka. "Any questions about the models?"
Soubi laughed. "Until you showed up, no one even thought of that, Ritsuka. People thought I'd made you two up."
"Didn't you?" said Ritsuka. "In one way or another, didn't you invent us?"
"You're real," said Soubi. "I don't have the words to build you. Some days, you're stronger than my memories."
"Good enough," said Ritsuka.