So when I made this, I had a special friend in mind. She lived in a different state and was killed during the various tornado hits. We started writing not this story, but another one with similar plot ideas. I used this as an assignment for my creative writing assignment because some boys in that class actually had the nerve to mock/criticize the people affected during the tornadoes. I loved what we had originally wrote, though, so when I can I will finish it. This is meant to be kinda like a PG+ish story acceptable for classes not aware of what I'd mean when I say "Japan" as a character and such.
"Are you sure you want this design? The feet are considered especially painful to people unused to tattoos." the tattoo artist asked with relative monotone. He's seen the person before him too many times to count, and after a while it just lost all meaning to try and go the extra mile and really care about his customers' futures.
"Of course! It's, like, totally in, right? Plus, a little heart wouldn't do any harm. Don't worry; I'm a big boy now, pain is nothing! It'd be, like, wicked cute, duncha think?" a young blond replied.
"Sign your name on the papers then. You can take a seat on the chair to the side, and I'll be with you shortly." Kiku, the artist, knew how the person before him was just a reckless adolescent just barely weaned from the grasp of his parents. He was the type that would ask for something small and simple in a place nobody looked simply to say he had a tattoo while his heart was barely into it and would regret his choice in no more than a few months. Even if it cost him a few dollars, Kiku Honda really would prefer not to ink such a person, but who was he the turn down someone so adamant in his choice? Sometimes people like his most recent customer learned their lessons best from experience and regretted their choices while others saw it as inspiration to get more done all over. Kiku liked the former, honestly.
As Kiku set up the red ink in his needle he debated his choice in careers. In reality, Kiku wanted nothing more than to be an artist. Kiku wanted people to cherish his work. He was born and raised in Japan and originally planned on going into the manga field before realizing how improbable it was for him to make it. Kiku wanted his art to be special like a story, and mean something to the beholder so almost naturally he picked up a few trades and began inking skin other than paper.
It seemed like a nice dream. Kiku could do personal requests this way and only make something that really meant something to the wearer of his designs. He thought it was an honorable trait, even. When your art is permanent on someone else's body... It seemed so admirable at the time he opened up his shop.
Yet day after day another faceless person would walk in and ask for the same thing. Like many tattoo parlors Kiku set up various sample works around his entrance, but sadly he either put too few or too many. Customers saw one of the few pictures they like and they chose it as the first thing they see which meant it had no real moral connection to the person choosing it or Kiku put too many is that people thought they didn't have to come up with a meaning and desire for themselves.
Kiku's job sickened him.
"Like, OW! Fffffff-ah! Fuck! Are you, like, wanting me to bleed? You're totally breaking skin! Ow, ow!" the blond, Feliks from the name he signed on the papers, whined as Kiku began to dig the needle past the first layer of skin and let the ink dye the flesh around crimson. With how much Feliks was struggling it was a wonder Kiku hadn't punctured too deep for a lot of bleeding and go off track.
To Feliks, getting the quarter-sized design on the top of his foot must have felt like hours, but to Kiku it felt like an empty thirty minutes of his life. It was so short. The tattoo was simple and worthless. Sure, the result was what was requested and perfect, but it was still ugly to him.
The heart was only one shade of plain red and had perfect vertical symmetry and was so, so average. Feliks looked down at and did a small twirl with ankle to see how it looked from different angles and shrugged. He couldn't complain since it was what he ordered but deep down he was disappointed. Kiku could read the expression like it was written in bold, underlined, and flashing red letters across the young boy's face.
"Like, thanks. It so still hurts, but it's still cute. I dunno. Put it on my card and I'll, like, get out of your hair." he said trying to sound indifferent while the stinging lingered over the small heart.
"Very well. It is one hundred dollars and may you have a nice day." Kiku responded civilly wanting to finally close the shop early before anyone decided to stop by with a ridiculous request. Business had been good that day so he could afford to close up an hour or so before the usual 7 pm clean-up.
Feliks had no qualms about leaving as he called a friend to pick him up. Only a few minutes went by before a much more mature and worried looking man came and took him. The young man even gave a small bow and apologized for Feliks' trouble. Though the gesture was nice and help cheer Kiku up, Kiku just wanted his solitude and politely escorted them out.
Then Kiku was all alone. It was what he wanted, after all. Solitude. Solitude made the young Asian both relieved and hurt all at once. Day by day people came in with a different face and the same motives. Horrible motives. Tattoos were supposed to be art. A permanent representation of one's very soul and with each foolish and often drunken request Kiku saw how naive he was.
Sure, he had the occasional well-thought and meaningful desires, but only far and few in between spur-of-the-moment idiocy. Kiku had his fair share of juxtapose couples walk in getting each other's names on their chests only to break up shortly after with a bitter remnant forever. Some even, and often, come back to him to yell and blame when it was entirely not his fault. While his heart swelled with pride when an older couple would come in after so many years of marriage to get a quaint little infinity symbol piece under their wedding rings, that same heart shattered at every divorcee to barge through his parlor doors venting all their at him.
What was worse is that after a certain point, people really did stop caring about their tattoo. So many rugged men and women came to him with unfathomable amounts of marred works already upon them at every noticeable free space. The obese stretch out the ink spreads with lasting effects, and others eventually do remove the imprint altogether. Should a person not eventually discard, maim, or disgrace the art, nothing could stop naturally aging and wrinkles.
When all these factors came together to Kiku, it only proved to him how mortal his creations were. Somehow, in some way, his art would die and fade away. The fact that no design he ever made was truly worthwhile and no person truly special made everything all the more meaningless to Kiku. All he wanted was to make art that would last and be treasured.
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The next day was Kiku's day off. He woke up at an unusually late time of 12:30 and barely had enough motive to get out of bed if not to feed his dog, Pochi. The little pooch always made Kiku feel wanted when he wanted to play or licked him with his little tongue, but it was still lonely in the small apartment. Kiku looked around at his empty walls and sighed. There was really nothing but the one picture of him and his family back at Japan, a couch, TV and stand, and a fake tulip given to him as a housewarming gift from the kind, Dutchman some doors down. Even though he knew he wasn't allowed to change the physical appearance of the apartment, Kiku felt a deep desire to paint over the white, blank surfaces.
On sheer whim Kiku went digging in his closet for any old paints or oils he could use. There was only a bit of green, red, white, black, and blue, but that was enough for his imaginative brain. He first moved his TV and stand that faced directly to the door and examines the now cleared wall. He decided he could narrowly have enough paint to decorate it.
Kiku sketched his vision on the wall first in light pencil. He drew details in the every grass and birds in the sky with intricate feathers. He gave rough mountains a place in the background behind fluffy clouds. In the center was a blooming cherry tree like the ones he saw back in Japan. Just the pencil art drew him in with old memories and forgotten dreams, but he needed to color it.
He mixed green with black or white for the various shades he would need to complete each precise stroke. Tediously with no time for stop Kiku finished the grass in near perfect likeness to the real thing. By the time he heard the bell ring he was only a section done with the sky and clouds.
Kiku got on his tip-toes to peak through at the surprise visitor to see someone he most certainly never met before. It looked like the man outside was growing more and more irritated by the second so Kiku opened the door and bowed.
"H-hello there, sir! What is it you need?" he asked hoping he did not sound rude. "My name is Kiku Honda, may I have your name?" he stated now looking up to see the young man more closely. He had passionate green eyes and a type of jagged, blond bowl cut to his chin. He was maybe only a few inches taller than Kiku's own small 5'3" but he stood in a strong way that made Kiku feel like he was being crushed by a tower.
"Er, it's Vash. I'm looking for room 427. Are you the only one living here?" he asked slightly more awkward than Kiku had anticipated him to sound like.
"Um... Ye-yes! What can I do for you?"
"I have some mail for you. It looked like a court order or something important so I thought it would be something that should be given in person. I'm from 724, so I guess the idiots read it backwards." Vash explained taking a crisp envelop from his long green coat. "You aren't doing something that could affect my sister and I, are you?" he asked with now a sense of malice.
In fear of the now angered blond Kiku waved his hands reflexively and shook his head. "N-no! I, um, it is just from my job! Someone didn't like my art after a while so... they are suing. Happens all the time, really. I have a rule where if a person can recite the alphabet backwards then the person is sober enough to have me give them a tattoo. I-I guess this person wasn't as sober as I thought at the time, heh...?" Vash was still staring hard at Kiku, but with not as much loathing that helped calm Kiku's nerves.
Vash nodded and shifted his gaze slightly to the wall behind Kiku. "Isn't it against the rules to defile the rooms?"
"Ah! It-it is! I know! I-I, well, it was a spur of the moment thing and I needed to release some passive desires! I am sorry! Please do not report me, Vash-sama!" Kiku quickly spat out almost as one solidified word.
"It's fine. I don't normally make habit of going into other people's affair unless it somehow concerns me or my little sister. If nothing else it'd be more dangerous having someone else replace you if you got kicked out. Besides," Vash stated tilting his head some to better view the wall, "you have a lot of talent. It's a shame you're just a tattoo artist for some ungrateful scum that can't own up to their own choices."
Kiku was torn between being offended and highly flattered. No one had ever complemented his general art skills since he was in college some years ago. The fact someone liked his art... it made him so happy he started to cry.
"Hey! What's the problem? I said I wasn't going to report you, crying won't get you anywhere! H-hey! Kiku?"
Kiku shook his head and smiled while tears still fell down his face. "Oh, no! Please, it has just... it has been awhile, thank you. Wo-would you like to come in? I am still finishing it, but I have drawn in more detail up close."
Vash sighed in relief and shrugged. "Sure. You got me interested." he reasoned walking inside the small home.
Vash really was impressed. He was not the type that was truly into the fine arts and not the most artistic, but he could doodle some cute things for his little sister when she wanted and could find great appreciation in the smaller, finer things. Every line seemed to capture a piece of the greater picture perfectly that pulled the temperamental blond in with a serene smile across his lips. Vash greatly wished for the completed version.
"It is a lot better up close. You should start a business."
"I already did. Tattooing, remember? I was only feeling a bit stressed out and worn down from all the people that think of getting a tattoo as some sort of joke instead of art so... This came out." Kiku explained mixing up the paints again before they went dry and finished up the last piece of the right side of the sky.
Vash gave a small nod and just sat down on the couch to the side. He honestly never did get involved in other people's affairs, but he was captivated, if only slightly, by the man painting before him. With Kiku's dark chocolate eyes so intently on his work and his blackened silk hair tossed about without care while things still had to be done seemed very eye-pleasing to Vash. Vash could only stare at the scene playing out before him, not even noticing the completed sky and birds popping out in 3D lifelikeness.
"Only one thing left. Do you like it so far, Mr. Vash?" Kiku asked with a bit of hope.
"Yeah, it's great. It looks like a bit like where I'm from, actually. Also, don't call me mister or anything. I'm hardly old enough for a title like that."
"Oh? May I ask how old you are, then? You seem very matured and hardworking. And you seem to have a slight accent, are you from another country?" Kiku asked genuinely interested in his guest's backstory.
"I turned 18 back in August. I moved here from Switzerland with my little sister for a way to get some cheaper schooling."
"R-really? That is so very surprising. I would have thought you were already settling into a nice career. What are you going into?"
"Medical. It seemed the best paying without completely selling my soul out if I went into law. Plus, laws can change from place to place but how to take out someone's liver never changes. Did you always want to go into tattooing?"
"Of course not. I majored in art in college and this is just where life took me. It seemed nice enough. The ability to put something special permanently on someone's skin, be remembered as artist, and just mean something to someone, it seemed more likely than when I tried to become a mangaka. Still," he started with a bitter smile, "I guess this dream did not turn out well, either."
Vash looked at Kiku even more deeply than he had been previously. Vash saw Kiku's shy and crushed spirit, and felt a twinge of pity for the other male.
"Do you work tomorrow?" Vash asked quickly.
"Hm?" Kiku hummed out processing the words, "Work? Er, yes. Why?"
"I'd like you to give me a tattoo. It would have to be pretty small so I don't have to use a lot of money, but I'd like it if you gave me one. Mind telling me which parlor is yours?"
"Wh-what? What are you saying? Why would you want me to that? If this is some spur-of-the-moment desires then you'd be no different from my usual costumers! You have to really want one!" Kiku bursted out angrily. He rarely showed his emotions, especially not to someone he only just met, but he had liked Vash. Kiku wanted the other to be more special than the other people he's ever had to work on.
"That's fine by me. I've always found them interesting but most looked so gaudy or shoddy I never saw a reason to spend money on defacing my skin. I think I'd trust whatever you gave me to be of top quality. Now, are you going to tell me where I should go? I want to show oh there are people in the world that would take care of the things given to them and that value your work."
"I... It's downtown some. It's the one beside the "bad books" store run by those German brothers and across the Russian liquor store. It's about thirty minutes from here." Kiku said in a soft voice just enough for Vash to hear.
"I'll see you tomorrow around 2:30, then. Continue working on the painting; I like it so far." and just like that Vash was walking out of the apartment.
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The day had drifted by agonizingly slow the next day. Kiku waited and waited until 2:30 anxiously. By the time 1:20 had hit Kiku was almost breaking down. Granted, he hadn't had a costumer since a little after noon, but he didn't want to look too eager for when Vash came. Who knew how long they shared an apartment complex without Kiku noticing the other. He really did not fare well with people so after vaguely acquiring the names of his floor neighbors Kiku shut himself in. He dealer with plenty of people from his job, after all.
Minutes went by. Kiku cleaned around some and organized everything to the last detail. Kiku's heart was racing when he finished to see the clock at 2:32. Very soon, then. Maybe too soon.
A small chime from someone walking in was heard. Kiku turned to see Vash drenched and clutching his chest protectively. "Sorry I'm late. It's pouring outside and I got held up in class," he excused before pulling out an envelope from inside his coat. "I want a tattoo based off of the stamp on here."
"Ah? Yes, I'll look at it closely. Please dry off in the meantime. If your skin is too moist I might mess up and the ink would run. I have towels and such in the restroom. You may hang your coat and shirt to the side." Kiku offered proud he was not sounding very nervous.
Vash took the offer and dried off. He took of his wet coat and shirt and shook out some water from his hair. When his upper body seemed dry enough he went back to the main room and put his clothes up.
"I'm ready. Did you study the design?" he asked turning to Kiku in time to see him nod. "I don't want that exact design, but I trust your creativity to come up with something appropriate."
"I see. I am honored. It's a very nice stamp, how old is the letter?"
"About a hundred and fifty years. It was the letter my great-great-grandmother was given to by her secret lover. They were from Basel and that was the stamp at the time. She didn't marry him because he was so very poor, but he managed to save enough for that letter and rare stamp and she was moved enough by the gesture and the message written inside that she married down and had my great-grandmother and so on. It was one of the first sold of that stamp and the stamp itself is the first tricolor type so I thought it always had meaning to me. It shocked me something so small and physically light to hold so much weight in it. If nothing else, it's pretty." Vash told.
"So this is what you want? I must say I am surprised you seemed to have this so thought out. It is... very refreshing. Please, take a seat on the chair while I make sure I have the right ink colors." Kiku ordered pointing to a low chair in the center of the room.
"I'd like it on my chest where the heart is, if that's not too cliché." Vash said lying on his bare back and exposing his unclothed stomach.
Kiku pressed one of his slender fingers on Vash's chest and nodded. The man below him really had a fine physique with enough firmness and tone that would make getting a precise mark on that much easier, yet not too ripped that Kiku would feel repulsed staring at overly cut muscles for too long. "I think that would be just fine. I changed the picture to make it slightly more appropriate, but I'll user the same three colors and idea. Be aware, this normally hurts."
With that said Kiku brought the tattooing machine to Vash's chest and let he process begin. Vash visibly winced at the sharp pain but adjusted quickly. It tingled and he let out a few groans here and there but was relatively tame during the process. Only red, white, and a teal-like color was used and Kiku felt like it was turning out rather nicely. The Basel Dove stamp design was modified mostly in the words on it. The beautiful white bird still seemed to pop out in a majestic flutter while the shield-pattern around it still had the initial red background. Kiku changed the words in the outer bar of the emblem and exchanged it for teal vines looping and coiling into serene symmetry down the center. Kiku was wary of every small line and possible detail from the stamp and worked it into the tattoo like a true master and smiled at his handiwork.
In the hour or so it took for the entire process, Vash avoided looking at his chest. Though a part of him felt an odd trust to the man over him, he was still holding a skin-piercing needle. Plus, he had only known the other for less than a day. When he felt a cool breath on his chest, Vash finally looked at Kiku and his chest and Kiku blowing at the redness.
"It is a bit pink still, but that shall go away soon. It is just a bit tender you may try and blow on it if it feels helpful to you," Kiku said softly putting up his equipment and giving a small smile at his newest handiwork. "I also have a mirror for you. Here you go."
"Nm. Thank you. I think I was right to give you creative license over this; it looks wonderful. I never wanted a tattoo so much, but I'll treasure this mark forever. How much do I owe you?" Vash suddenly asked remember he never asked a price for the small little inking.
"Hm. Ten dollars per color. Consider it a deal for one of my kindest costumers."
"That much on sale? No wonder I never wanted one." Vash said going to his dried coat and pulling out two twenties from his wallet inside. "Keep the change, as a tip for an aspiring artist." Vash said with a knowing smirk. "And as an extra tip to show my appreciation for your art and a little something for myself, I'll do this." He stated coolly before getting enough courage to kiss Kiku on the cheek.
"A-ah!" Kiku blushed and stuttered out, not denying the fact he didn't dislike the gesture. "Th-thank you. Would you like to come over to my house later? I finished the wall already. If you've never seen cherry blossoms, I would consider it a fine alternative." Kiku countered with his own sly smile.
"Sure. I'll, um, bring my little sister over; she loves nature things. I'm sure you'd like her."
"No more than you, I am sure. You have done far too much for me. I can even make you two dinner and make sure your tattoo is healing properly."
"After you then." Vash said in a chivalrous tone putting on his shirt and coat loosely and opening the parlor door for Kiku.
Kiku smiled brightly and, for once in his career, stepped outside his shop with pride while his new companion's hand intertwined with his own and a content gleam in his eye.
So there it is. I hope you all liked it! It means a lot that you'd even read it, considering how dry is must read for some of you. I'd like some reviews, but I don't know. I guess I didn't do this for reviews so much, but they'd be nice. I'll finish the other story of similar plot in a more canon setting. That one will also likely be M, but meh. That's just how we had planned the story out. I'm sad she couldn't be here with me to finish and criticize it.
I'll always love/remember you, my Little Boomy Daughter.