Yuga flipped to a new page in his notebook, then clicked his pen. Besides their footsteps, that was the loudest sound in the art museum. They had come on a peaceful day, one of those days when there were not a million children and parents running around. They were the only ones at the current exhibit, and Hilda could count the number of other visitors that she had seen at the museum that day on one hand.
Hilda's eyes wondered over the new area.
"Are you sure that you wish to go through here?" Yuga raised an eyebrow. "If you want to look at something else, I understand."
Hilda rolled her eyes. "I am no child."
Her art teacher looked behind him, then around the room. "Now where has that boy run off to this time?"
"I have no idea." Hilda pulled her cell phone from her pocket, then quickly texted him.
Her art teacher sighed, shaking his head. "Let's just keep going."
"Maybe he chickened out when he saw the signs."
The sign had simply stated that it was a selection of permanently displayed realist art. At first, it had seemed harmless enough, but some were not so pleased by the smaller text below.
Some of the paintings exhibited were not the best for kids. Hilda didn't mind, however. She wasn't a kid, and she could always avoid looking at certain paintings if she did not want to.
"Let's just hope that the boy does not cause any trouble."
"I agree." She paused, trying to think back to when she last saw him. "I'm guessing that he's still looking around that section on cubism on the second floor; Ravio really seemed to have enjoyed it. If not, then he probably ended up at the gift shop."
Yuga grunted.
The two continued forward, Yuga's eyes constantly going from the notebook below him to the paintings on the wall. She was just thankful that he had not made her write notes as well.
The paintings certainly showed the world for what it was. Some of the paintings looked more like a photograph.
"Incredible," Hilda whispered.
"They are," her teacher responded, somehow able to hear her. "I only hope that I can one day make something as great as these." He looked back down to his notebook, then began to scribble away.
Hilda began to wonder around, her eyes drifting across the paintings. There were small signs with information beside them, though Hilda only skimmed them.
There were a few paintings that Hilda did skip; she did have other ways to study anatomy.
Besides, why should she have looked at them when there was a masterpiece?
Hilda held her breath for a moment, eyes wide. There was no way to describe the painting before her as anything but beautiful. The brush strokes, the perfect lighting, the well blending colors-
The girl.
The girl was what mattered, the blond girl staring back at Hilda. She was dressed elegantly, wearing a pink dress and jeweled crown.
Hilda looked to the sign by it.
"Zelda," she whispered. The word seemed a bit strange on her tongue, almost as if the dark haired girl had no right to say it.
It was a simple title, but it fit. The beautiful girl painted before her seemed like a Zelda.
Hilda couldn't find herself able to look away. It truly was a masterpiece.
She stepped away, wanting to take it in from a distance.
Some were bothered by the way a painting's eyes might follow someone around, but Hilda hardly cared. It was as if the girl, Zelda, was looking at her. Why would she not want Zelda to see her?
For a moment, she could not hear her art teacher scribbling away away or feel her cell phone vibrate in her pocket. All that mattered, all that existed, were the two girls.