Kitten: I never usually do combine, but for some reason this one was calling to me.

Summary: Michiru's art is beautiful, yet she still pushes for a image, she still craves for the faceless person in her mind to be uncovered and while admiring some paintings she thinks she may have found the perfect person, the angel dripping with innocence, the boy named Ryou Bakura.

Kitten: I do not own Sailor moon or yu-gi-oh.

Chapter one

Paint, the soft strong scent could be smelt from every angle in the room, stinging eyes of those not used to it but not betraying those who were. Golden banners hung loosely from walls painted the deepest purple, and words sequined with glitter spelt 'Painting of the month' outlined with pink chalk. Waiters waltzed around carrying trays of glasses or small appetizers, all in black suits and white bow tie, people rarely could develop taste in an art gallery like this, but champagne was taken as a source of liquid or importance. None seemed to gracious for the school pupils who sniggered at the purity of a painted woman, who wore nothing but a thin piece of material, maintaining small dignity. But the centre of attention lied on the decision of the judge, his eyes switching from back to forth at the three pictures that hung before him, his hand hovering over each one as if he was searching for some kind of warmth, a crowd stayed behind him watching , most trying to blend in but some waiting to buy the picture he picked.

The first -to the centre left- was a picture of a woman, her head was tilted back and her long raven hair flew in the pink sky where the moon shone distantly in the background, her eyes were opened silently, her silver orbs sparkling with tears which ran down her cheeks sadly, in her hand she held tight onto a yellow rose, the rose symbolized ever lasting love, but the blood dripping from her hand symbolized that there would be pain in the relationship. The second painting - to the centre- was a room, almost every single detail of the room was drawn by different shades of black and white chalk, expect the door which was painted a bright oak brown. A young boy sat huddled up in the corner, his back facing away from the door but his head looking back at it, Longley, not many people understood what this picture was meant to tell but to those who were true artists it didn't take a second glance to understand what it meant. The last picture -to the centre right- was one of a violin case and an easel, -like the previous painting -it was created with black and white chalk but so much different than the one before, the violin case was open, and inside it lay a black and white violin, all strings in perfect condition and the bow(1) trapped beside it, the thing most noticeable though was the cobwebs that swung from every part of it as if it has never been used. The easel was probably the most catching thing of the painting though, a woman stood behind the picture in a ballroom, everyone seemed to be dancing in the background having a good time while she gazed out the window, holding onto the bars that kept her from freedom, beside her sat her very own easel with the previous painting of the violin and easel as if that was all she could ever create.

The judge took another quick glance at it before placing the ribbon on the centre one. People either cheered or sighed at his decision but all the same clapped even in defeat. Clapping along with the others stood Michiru Kaioh, her short curly aqua hair bobbling up and down at the vibration of her clapping and a small smile appearing onto her face. She didn't really expect to win, her age was taken into account to much for her paintings ever to become truly famous at this stage, but her heart betrayed that fact, she knew that she was losing heart, she didn't see things the way she used to. The creator of the winning painting was a large man, his fingers looked to fat to hold onto a paintbrush but the chalk picture had proved that wrong, a fat cigarette stuck from his mouth, lit, even though he was clearly told he wasn't aloud, he looked very rich to, with the golden pocket watch sticking out of his pocket and the different gem rings that were pushed onto his fat fingers, Michiru could tell that there was something very wrong about this scene but still greeted him politely as her waddled towards her, he looked her up and down and smirked.
"You sure are young, don't you think you should be playing with finger-paints little girlie" He sniggered wiggling his own fat ones, Michiru tilted her head and smiled kindly completely ignoring the fact that he was criticizing her.
"Your painting was truly a fine piece of art Sir, I wish some day I would have your skills and determination." She said.
The man chuckled noisily earning a few stares towards him.
"I like you girlie, your smart, maybe you should use that big brain of yours for something more useful than paint like… playing nurses." He purred. Michiru closed her eyes and lifted her head up. "Eliminating the competition your truly are a genius sir maybe you should go play… doctors," She giggled placing a hand over her mouth and pretending to muffle her giggles. The man frowned then took out his cigarette slowly and blew smoke into the young girls face who didn't see fazed, he stared at her for a bit before noticing reporters swimming in and decided to go off to boast, Michiru waved goodbye from a distance even though she had lost his attention some time ago, she turned and walked away from the reporters smartly before they had a chance to interview her.

After a while of exploring she suddenly lost herself in the world of paintings, from the most toned and bright shapes to the most craziest and bizarre faces, it was as if she was stuck in her very own maze and somehow even though she'd always been through every door and seen every painting there was always something new when she reopened them, in every painting there is always something new, as if you just noticed something for the very first time. Every time she stopped at the painting she loved the most, she always saw this, an angel. With white long hair and brown innocent eyes (sound familiar?) smashed into view, his body stripped and his face twisted into agony, a pink ribbon swirling around his torn body while feathers fell limply to the ground. "Admiring again Miss.Kaioh." chuckled a familiar voice, Michiru smiled and touched the thin glass that the angel hid behind.
"Of course Mr.Hiskora, I've always admired your work." She spoke truly, gazing up into the in broken eyes of the angel. The judge looked up at his painting and sighed.
"My limit I'm afraid, I'm getting on in my age and so my paintings now tend to be a little less-" He turned to Michiru and rubbed the back of his temples "-colourful." He finished breaking into a huge smile as if he had said the most original thing ever, Michiru giggled politely then turned back to the painting and fingered the golden plate that shone beside it.
"Unnoticed beauty" she said dryly as if those words brought no meaning. "Around two years ago, I was very interested in ancient Egypt, I thought maybe I could sketch the tomb of the nameless pharaoh, but I was told that the only thing I was drawing was my own death, I still stupidly decided to go through with my idea and was poisoned by darts, a man found me lying in the sand and tended to me for a couple of weeks until I was well enough to walk, we didn't talk much, he was very busy with some problem about his son, and that's when I saw him. It was only a picture but he was beautiful, with white ivory hair and soft clay eyes (2) but the boy seemed pained like something was torturing him." Hiskora pointed to the angel.
"You never notice the angels beauty because the torturing is the thing screaming to you…." Michiru shook her head in disagreement.
"No… what I see is an angel torn of everything even it's wings… unable to get away from everything." she whispered looking down at the floor. Hiskora put his hand on her shoulder.
"Your not trapped behind bars Kaioh…. You've got a open door." He stated taking on last glimpse at the picture then walking away. Michiru sighed to herself in defeat then turned towards the exit not looking back.

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Kitten: Sorry it was meant to be much longer but I got done for time, the next chapter is more of Ryou's side so don't fret Ygo fans! I got tired midway and it was like 4am in the morning when I started typing this, happy birthday to me tomorrow and R&R

1: what's that thing called, I just call it a bow.
2: Some clay that turns soft turns a very dark brown or so I've seen.

Picture 2: The picture shows that everything in the room belongs expect the door so he's trapped in the room because he belongs with it.
Picture 3: Basically Michiru feels that she's always trapped behind the life of a rich girl when all she can ever do is paint this one picture that weighs her up easiest, the violin is what Michiru is as she plays it a lot, it can play happy and sad tunes but it's also lonely.

Hiskora is a name I picked up from Yami no matsuei I do not own that either.