Painting the Sun

日曜日を塗ること

By: Zero Hakaru

The eternal rain of cherry blossoms has never looked lovelier; the systematic explosions of brilliant colored lights were reflected in each leaf shed from the majestic Konohana. The leaves themselves bathed in the lights created from Tama's work. Dancing in the air merrily, they mirrored the glow as if even they cheered for Orochi's death.

Sighing heavenly, Issun sipped some of the Thunder Brew sake through his tiny lips pursed along the dish that could serve as his new bathtub. The liquid brought in warmth on his tiny body that complimented the wondrous atmosphere around Kamiki Village. He looked to his left and noticed something a bit wrong.

"Hmm, wonder where furball wandered off to?" He mused to himself before he noticed that Amaterasu's sake bottle was empty. Letting out a single bark of laughter, Issun leaned back against the stone wall. "I see now, she's like Susano… she loves her sake."

Issun had to admit, despite the fuss the Brush Gods make and anything said by other beings with spiritual power that saw her true form, Ammy didn't really act godly at all. Sure, she has an undying sense of righteousness and valor… but other than that… she's a bit… ditzy. Well, that's not really fair; she's more happy-go-lucky than anything else. Her antics did bring a smile to his lips, except those that involved him covered in wolf slobber.

But… even then, his respect for the wolf grew during their campaign against Orochi. And their friendship grew more and more with each passing moon.

Issun shook his head to clear this musing on the furball. "Ugh, think this stuff's gettin' to me." He pushed aside the sake dish and cleared the ground of random rubble. Whipping out a blank scroll, he laid it out before him. The blank roll begged for something to be painted amongst its bare skin, luckily the greatest artist, self proclaimed mind you, was there to serve its need. Issun took out his jug of ink and a bowl to pour some of the ink in it. "Ah all set, nothing like a painting romp to clear the mind. Heh-heh." A gleam sparked in his eye. "Denkomaru, time to work our magic!" He drew his tiny sword with which he could use the brush on the hilt to work said magic.

After a dip in the ink, Denkomaru was ready to perform. In a flash, Issun leapt and danced amongst the scroll, his sword leaving a trail of the blackest ink. His speed picked up and soon it appeared that he flew in the air and only Denkomaru touched the parchment.

His piece was completed in less than ten minutes after he started. Though, Issun felt his eyebrow twitch at the realization of what he drew.

It was a beautiful, romanticized painting of Ammy in her glory, letting out her infamous victory howl towards the moon that glittered overhead. Sparkles were painted about her, to add her godly influence to nature and the heavens. The painting itself exuded Issun's artistic genius. Each stroke, each curve, each detail, everything about it was perfection… but Issun just didn't like it.

"Come on…" he let out and exasperated sighed and rested his painting hand on his hip. "I try to relax and get my mind off the furball for a few minutes and all I can paint is that fluff ball."

"But I think it's a great painting…" Issun craned his neck back to see the lovely Sakuya floating overhead, gazing at his work with admiration.

"No one asked ya!" snorted Issun as he rolled the scroll up and toss it over the edge of the cliff. Sakuya flew briefly to the edge and looked for the scroll.

"Why'd you do that!?" she fumed as she crossed her arms over her chest. "It was something new from the other smut you paint."

"Hey babe, it's art." Issun shrugged while smirking to add credibility to his claim. "That one was a dud."

"Just because it was our mother?" Sakuya raised an inquisitive eyebrow. Issun grunted uncomfortably and pouted slightly. The wood sprite let out a brief laugh, knowing she hit the nail on the head.

"So you were listening?" Issun asked. "Look, I forgive you. I mean, I know I'm unbelievably sexy and desirable, but stalking is a crime."

"Only an anteater would stalk you bug."

"I AM NOT A BUG!!!!" Issun bounced about angrily and dove into her top in order to seek revenge against her comment. Sakuya laughed furiously at the ticklish sensation of his fidgeting, but desperately fumbled about to get the invading Poncle out. She managed to pop him out of her top and sent him flying into the stone wall. With a dull thud, Issun collided into the wall. "Ugh… so… worth the pain…"

"Why, you indecent and vulgar excuse for life, must you insist on DOING THAT!?" Sakuya was pissed, but that only fueled the artist's ego.

"Heh, I have a thing for lofty peaks, what else?" he claimed as he straightened out his clothing. "And you owed me for all those bug comments."

"I'm still surprised that Amaterasu still keeps you around." Issun twitched at the mention of her name. "It's not like you have any redeeming qualities bug."

"For the love of the gods, I AM NOT A BU-ARGH!!!" Issun had attempted another dive for her, but the wood sprite was prepared to slap him away this time. The Poncle was sent flying off the cliff in the general vicinity of where he threw the scroll. He crashed into the ground painfully, feeling as if every tiny bone in his body was broken.

Fortunately, Issun was fine after lying there for a couple of minutes. He rolled onto his back and stared heavenward, watching Tama's fireworks still launching into the sky. One exploded into a familiar image, Issun lying atop of Ammy's head.

Groaning, Issun had to wonder that why everything around him tonight was related to the furball. Ammy was just his source for obtaining the Celestial Brush techniques, nothing more. Well, maybe also his weapon as Issun did have his own sense of justice… that was desired by an attractive female. But, this attitude weighed heavily on his little heart. It didn't feel right anymore, just using the wolf as his weapon, brush source, and form of entertainment. Issun had to admit, that wolf was growing on him.

"Unh… such a pain…" he mumbled to the sky. Something else bothered him too, it's not that he hated Ammy, how could anyone hate the furball? It was his fate; he was trained to be a Celestial Envoy for the gods. It was a fate he wanted to run from, one he didn't want to hold the responsibility for. But Ammy came into his life; a god came into his life. Issun was faced with his fated duty of being an Envoy. What a pain. All he wanted were pretty girls.

"Rrr?" a familiar and soft growl came overhead. A snow white lupine head loomed into view and looked down curiously at the artist.

"Heya furball." Issun greeted halfheartedly. He wasn't feeling up to joining up with Ammy tonight, he just needed to get some "me-time." The Poncle raised an eyebrow, noticing Ammy held a scroll in her mouth. "What'cha got there?"

Flicking her head, Ammy unfolded the scroll revealing the painting Issun did of her. He had to blush slightly; he really didn't want her to see that painting. Issun knew he couldn't lie and pretend it wasn't his as his signature was plastered on it.

Coughing uncomfortably, Issun tried to form a sentence. "So… where'd you find it?" Ammy pointed a paw toward the nearby patch of grass; some blades of grass were folded to the scroll's shape. "Ah…" He couldn't form anymore words, they just wouldn't come.

Ammy tilted her head; it was obvious she noticed Issun's change in behavior. She nuzzled her nose against him gently, trying to get him to be his usually self again.

"Nnh, not now…" Issun grumbled. Ammy nuzzled again, now wanting Issun to be back to normal. "Furball, come on… I… eh?"

Issun took a closer look at the goddess's face. Her mouth was curved into a small smile and there were more red markings on her face. No, those weren't markings… was she… BLUSHING. Issun's eyes trailed back down to his painting, noticing another detail he had drawn in subconsciously. Kanji was written along the ground his depiction of Ammy stood. The symbols read "Beautiful Amaterasu."

"Crap… when did I write that!?" Ammy let out a wolfish giggle, watching Issun turn from moody to frantically embarrassed. He waved his tiny arms about, urging Ammy to pretend this painting never existed. "Ignore this, pretend it never came to be, WAIT I know, I'll burn it with the Inferno technique we learned! Yeah that's the ticket! We'll have a campfire! Get some cherry cakes Ammy! We'll make some to celebrate Orochi's death! Or we could sing songs! How bout singing "Susano Fell Down the Well!?"

Ammy had rolled onto her back, now in a laughing fit as Issun bounced around trying to divert her away from the painting. It took her awhile to regain control, but she managed to. She retrieved the scroll and rolled it up.

"Eh? What are ya doing? Gonna burn it!?" Issun asked frantically. Ammy shook her head and put the scroll away (to god knows where she stores her inventory). "Wait, keeping it!? B-b-but it sucks!!"

Ammy padded up to the artist, still wearing her wolfish smile. Nuzzling Issun once again, she seemed to be trying to get a message across.

"You… like it?" Ammy nodded once. "Really?" Another nod. "You're not drunk right?" She shook her head. The goddess gave Issun a gentle lick, but the poor Poncle still ended up covered in slobber. "Wonderful… thanks a lot furball." Ammy giggled and laid down beside him, still keeping an eye on him.

As he wiped the spit off himself, Issun realized something about the wolf he liked. She was innocent in her own way and her ditzy nature just added to her charm. He had to wonder now, once they obtained all the Brush techniques, could he really bring himself to ditch her afterwards?

Ammy reached out with one of her paws and pulled Issun closer to her. "Oi-oi! Be gentle dear, you'll ruin my devilish good looks." The wolf rolled her eyes and let out a single bark of laughter. Though, she let out a long yawn, signaling it was her bedtime, kind of odd for a god but meh, Issun was told they aren't very different from those living on earth.

It would be tough to leave her, Issun figured.

"I see, wanna sleep with a hunk like me?" he joked, getting his… "Issun" back. "Fine then, first night's free of charge." After removing his helmet and sword, Issun cuddled up against the soft white fur of the wolf. Buried in the warmth, Issun couldn't help but smile.

It would be impossible to leave her… she's nothing without her "valiant, heroic, and dashing" artist.

Nor was Issun anything without his furball.

Fin