Artifact of Mind
a Munto fanfiction by Tripleguess
Genre: Character/Drama
Rated PG
January 16, 2007
Summary: It was such a nice picture.
It was such a nice picture.
She lingered to admire the product of their collective artistic efforts long after her friends had tired of coloring and run outside to claim a swing or seesaw before recess was over. She felt a special satisfaction in being able to show them her sky -- one way or another. Maybe they couldn't see it for themselves, but at least now they knew what it looked like. She had drawn the outline herself and painstakingly filled it in with brown crayon; they'd given wordless deference to her claim on the triangular shape and settled on other parts of the picture to color. Ichiko had contributed the clouds and sky, while the riotous border of flowers was Suzume's addition.
"Oh, my." One of the teachers had noticed the drawing and was now bending over to admire it. "What a lovely picture!"
Yumemi beamed at her favorite school employee. "Thank you, Sonoda-sensei!"
The bespectacled woman traced the angular shape in the air, her fingertip hovering just over the paper. "Is this a boat?"
"It's the island in the sky," Yumemi said shyly, forgetting a recent playground incident.
Sonoda-sensei laughed and patted the fair head indulgently. "What a wonderful imagination you have."
Yumemi caught implications of the statement instantly. "I didn't make it up," she said earnestly. "It's real."
Sonoda's expression became a little stern. She knelt and took Yumemi by the shoulders. "Yumemi-chan. You shouldn't make up stories that are not true."
Yumemi flushed; now she did remember. It was the same thing all over again. "It's true," she insisted, her lower lip quivering. The scorn of her peers had been bad enough, but the disapproval of a big person she liked and respected stung to the quick.
"Yumemi!"
Sonoda's sharp tone was the last straw. Yumemi burst into tears, caught between shame at having contradicted her teacher and anger at the unfair accusation.
Sonoda sighed, vexed with herself for making the sensitive child cry, but still concerned enough to write a polite note to Mrs. Hidaka with a carefully phrased warning about the dangers of childish dishonesty. Yumemi cried harder when the note was pressed into her hand along with instructions to deliver it to her mother. Young as she was, she already knew that notes from school were rarely good things.
Ichiko and Suzume arrived on scene in time to see Sonoda-sensei scoop up the "dishonest" drawing and throw it away; to their protests, Sensei replied firmly that she didn't tolerate such nonsense in her classroom and she didn't want to hear any more about it.
They rallied to Yumemi on the way home, Suzume comforting her with cookies squirreled away during lunch and Ichiko with the slightly rumpled drawing itself, which she'd rescued from the trash when Sonoda-sensei wasn't looking. Yumemi felt a little better -- until she remembered the note in her pocket.
Once home, she dutifully delivered the reproachful white envelope to her mother and crept upstairs to hide the drawing. Something told her that if she didn't, she might not see it again.
She spread the big paper out on her bed and ran a small hand over it in a sorrowful attempt to smooth out the wrinkles, then started guiltily when her mother called her name. She thrust the drawing hurriedly into her deepest toy drawer. No one would find it there.
"Coming," she gulped. It was about the note -- she could tell from her mother's worried tone. With a sigh, she headed downstairs to face the music.
She'd known for some time now that other people couldn't see her sky... but it hadn't occurred to her until today that they might not want it.
X X X
"-to? Munto, are you listening to me?"
Munto blinked, suddenly aware that the map in front of him was not done in crayon... and that he was crumpling the nearest corner.
"Sorry, Rui." He unclenched the offending fist and did his best to smooth out the damage, feeling a tingle of deja vu as he did so. "Start over."
Rui nodded and patiently backtracked. He didn't ask for an explanation. Munto didn't offer one.
X X X
Later, after the bustle of the day had died down into the relative quiet of evening, he went hunting through his rooms until he found a dusty ivory box that hadn't seen use in a very long time. He cleared a table and found a lamp so he could see what he was doing, then unrolled a clean piece of parchment and opened the box.
Like most royalty, he'd had training in the arts, but for much of his life he'd had little time or inclination to pursue them. Now, though, he removed the fine pastel sticks one by one until he had the colors he wanted, and set to work.
They felt like powdered seashells against the parchment -- smooth, with just a hint of high-quality texture. They weren't waxy. The table was smooth, too, but he caught himself checking his skin for the nubbly "prints" of a classroom carpet he'd never touched.
He got lost in the satisfying sensation of pigment on parchment, in the challenge of getting the details just so. Slowly but surely, his kingdom formed beneath his hands; a stylized view, with buildings and mountains gracing the landscape as miniature profiles instead of dots and elevation lines.
It was always on his mind. He knew it better than anyone else. Her island -- from the upper side.
He wasn't sure what to do with the finished drawing. He wasn't even sure what had compelled him to make it, except a vague urge to make up somehow for the stern-faced teacher and the unhappy square of white paper; to challenge the absurd assertion that his kingdom didn't exist.
He shook his head irritably and finally stashed the parchment on a shelf not likely to be disturbed. It felt strange to draw something for a girl who would never get a chance to see it.
-The End
DISCLAIMER: Must I? Well, better safe than sorry. This story not created, acknowledged or endorsed by Kyoto Animation or Yoshiji Kigami, to whom all relevant characters and trademarks belong. No infringement is intended and absolutely no profit was or ever will be made. Artifact of Mind itself is fan domain and may be freely recopied and archived. Reader reactions are appreciated, as always.