Contestshipping Scene #1: The Starving Artist
Haruka is visiting a display featuring her favorite artist's works. She feels the vague emotion displayed within the canvas has some sort of connection to herself, and her long, lost love. …Surprise, surprise…
The setting is a dark room, minus the frugal lamp that provided one solitary ray of light upon a blank, tan canvas. A young man of the age of twenty-one stares at the canvas, waiting for the emotional rage to take over his body and give him another bit of money for the next day in his lonely life.
It was odd to him, how in this world, people would benefit with large amounts of cash based off of injured feelings and broken emotions.
He looked up at the ceiling with a pensive countenance, slightly reminiscing about those emotions he had once felt. Sure, he was young, but he felt that love was better described through feeling and motions than inconceivable, mushy words. She had made him feel so…alive. It was as if she were to leave him forever, he wouldn't know how to go on in his life. He hated the thought of one person having such a hold on him, but when it came to her, he just…didn't care.
It had been worth the struggle, and countless, sleepless nights over the matter.
…He shrugged off the memories and looked back at the canvas, pulling his concentration back.
Suddenly, it came to him. That familiar feeling began to rise from his chest into his face. His eyes began to darken from their gorgeous emerald color to a morbid hunter green. His fists clenched, sweat building in his palms around the medium-sized paintbrush.
Delicately, he dipped the brush into a jar of black paint, and drew two diagonal lines from the bottom corners of the canvas to form what appeared to be a road. He then added the horizon line for clarification of the viewer that this was in fact a road.
He imagined himself at the beginning of that road. For a normal person, it would've been a bright day. The sky would be a cheerful shade of blue, puffy clouds slowly sailing against the wind. The sun would be bringing light and a feeling of warmth to the whole world below it.
Yet for him, it would be a dark, dark day.
He reached for a larger paintbrush, and dipped it into a jar of red paint, and began to make wild streaks as to where the sky would be. Slowly, his teeth began to bear as the red lines streaked against the canvas, making the sky look almost bloody and vengeful.
As he continued to stare at the red sky, he reached for a paintbrush and dipped it into the jar of black once more. He painted the bottom of the road with a dark, heavy hand. Then, as the brush was almost bereft of any black paint, he flicked the brush in the direction the road was going to. The color was lighter, and seemed to make the end of the road glorious, and worth getting to.
Not for him.
The only thing he really liked about this painting so far was the sky. He felt as if it drew the eyes of the viewer.
He dipped the brush into more black paint and continued to accent the road until the last two inches were pure white, and the rest of the road was black.
Then, taking the smallest brush he could find, he dipped it into red paint, and drew a figure of a young woman wearing only red. She stood at the end of the road, everything but her face turned away from the back of the road. As he finished the details of her face, he began to color the one eye that the viewer could see.
A beautiful, radiant shade of sapphire blue, these eyes were.
Her long brown hair blew in a soft wind. The way she looked back at the road made her look…sardonic. It was as if she wanted the viewer to not see her whole face…as if she wanted to leave the viewer.
He closed his eyes and sighed, dropping the paintbrush onto the floor. Reaching for the red paintbrush, he glanced upon the woman he had drawn.
So…many…memories…
The ground on either side of the road was red, then overlapped with dark and light shades of brown.
The picture resembled death all around this one person. Yet, there was one single spot of life on that picture, and that was the eye of the lady in red. It was small, but it drew the eye.
That's what he wanted to do with his pieces of work…accent the little things that bring the picture to life.
That was what she was.
As he titled it in the corner, "Lady in Red", signed The Starving Artist, he stared back at it.
It would run twenty bucks at most.
Twenty-one year old Haruka is seen running to the building with no name in the small development of Petalburg City. She wore a red button-up shirt that stuck to her figure well, and a pair of dark blue jean shorts. As she clumsily ran into people, her long brunette hair swept through the air.
Sapphire eyes soon locked with a building.
Today, she was beyond excited to know that today, this building would be showcasing her favorite artist of all time.
The Starving Artist.
The way he painted could be interpreted in every way. All types of emotions were displayed just by a simple streak of a brush. He was truly a genius to be able to interpret feelings such as those with such perfection.
It was her dream to meet this man and ask how he could put so much emotion into color pigments and water.
As she burst through the door, her sapphire eyes gazed upon the abstract, yet hermeneutic pieces of art. As if these were the last objects she'd see on earth, she ran around to every picture, and observed them with intrigued eyes.
She received supercilious glances from the older folk in the building, but naturally, she did not care.
This was odd for her. Haruka was a very bright, spontaneous person who loved to take in all of the adventurous characteristics of life as soon as she could. However, being so intrigued by paint splashed on a canvas was just something that others seemed to find…boring perhaps?
These were not the slightest bit boring in her eyes.
This was just another idiosyncrasy to add to her heterogeneous list of…idiosyncrasies.
"Attention connoisseurs, attention." The emcee announced, his voice being very subdued. Despite the low pitch, every person turned to the man who held the small microphone.
"We are pleased to see such a large crowd turn up to endorse the notorious Starving Artist, and we thank you for that."
A small, in syncopated applause arose from the crowd, and died out as extemporaneously as it was heard.
"Yes, well, I bet that many of you will be delighted to hear about what is going to happen next in this small, unknown town."
"Probably another auction." Haruka thinks to herself, smirking to herself and rolling her eyes.
As much as she loved the artwork, she thought that this type of work should be displayed in a much louder, busier setting where many "artsy fartsy" people can gawk over it and then speak of their achievements as if they were related to the painting in any way, shape or form.
She smirks again and turns to gaze at the artwork titled "Lady in Red".
"I am pleased to present, for the first time in public…"
As she observes closer, she discovers that the lady in red looks strikingly familiar. There was something about the way her face was presented that reminded her of someone or thing that had happened in her life.
"The man who can twist his dark emotions into beauty…"
She was a beautiful woman, and The Starving Artist seemed to make that apparent, she realized. The more she gazed at it, however, the more she felt connected. It was as if the viewer of the painting was watching this jewel of a person walk away, and this woman…
…This woman was glad to see this person so heartbroken. It was as if this woman found pleasure in seeing one person so infatuated with her. For that woman, it was just another boost to her once deflated ego.
"The Starving Artist himself!"
Sapphire eyes widen at the title name, and she immediately turns around to see a marvel of a sight.
The man that walked onto the stage was of a tall stature, but his presence alone was very powerful. He had striking emerald hair was cut in a pointed fashion at the back, but heavy bangs fell over his eyes; one would imagine this would look messy, but the way he sported it looked very sophisticated and seemed to scream "stop and talk to me." A black, long-sleeved shirt buttoned up on his lean figure, along with black pants that flared at the bottom.
When he opened his eyes, she nearly fainted.
They were a darling shade of green that was just a tad darker than his hair. They seemed to sparkle, even though there was a very dim light within the showroom. Whenever he looked at something, that object seemed to shake.
He was simply astounding.
The applause was much louder than before, and it echoed off the walls; an amused smirk formed on his face as he took the microphone and faced the audience.
"Thank you, please. I don't deserve this applause."
'How could he SAY that?' She thinks to herself as she stands there and stares at him, as if she were in a trance.
"I am pleased to see that so many people have taken a liking to my artwork because, well…if I may, I have a little story to tell, and they perfectly describe every single work you see in this building. Oh, before I start reminiscing of my young boy days, I'd like to thank the caretakers of this building for being so kind as to let such amateur, heartbroken artwork be displayed here."
Two people in the back of the room raise their hand in acknowledgement of his gratitude, and he waves back at them.
"I'd like to start off when I was about, uh, fifteen years old. There was this one girl I found absolutely…annoying, yet so astounding."
A gasp reverberates throughout the room, drawing everyone, including his, attention.
She covers her sanguine, yet terribly mortified face as she backed into a corner.
"Absolutely annoying yet astounding."
'Could it be…? It…it couldn't be…him?...No…' She keeps thinking to herself.
"Ahem…umm…anyway, yes, where was I…oh yes! Her name…was Haruka Spring…"
Six years ago…
"You wish you were as good a coordinator as me." A young boy with that shade of green hair boasts as he proudly places his hands on his hips.
"DITTO!" A young girl with short brunette hair yells back, bending over and copying his move but in an angry fashion, unlike his egotistical gesticulation.
Even though his arrogance was something that never failed to be unseen, he did have a right to brag. The way he worked with his Pokemon was what truly defined the connection between trainer and Pokemon. However, this girl did not take too kindly to his defamation of her; especially right in front of her face.
"YOU LISTEN HERE! I MIGHT NOT BE AS GOOD AS YOU ARE NOW, BUT YOU WAIT AND SEE, I WILL BE WAY BETTER THAN YOU CAN DREAM OF BEING!" She screams out.
"Take it easy…"
"NO I WILL NOT TAKE IT EASY—"
A blooming red rose is shoved into her face, and behind it was that smug smirk of his as she pouts at him.
"If you want to be respected in this business, I suggest you become a tad more…subdued."
She grabs the rose, and rips it into little pieces.
"Maybe you should get that stick out of your butt and try to have fun for once!"
He chuckles at this, and flips his hair. "You also might want to work on your maturity a bit too."
With one more amused giggle, he turns on his heel and walks off with Roserade by his side. Her face once again turns red with fury, and she is ready to run over there and rip every strand of green hair out of his perfect little head.
He knew it too; that's what he adored when he got her angry…that fire.
"Despite my modesty now, I was quite the braggart back then. And I sure as hell imposed my will on this girl every chance I could. It took me awhile to realize why I enjoyed tormenting this girl so much…and before you ask, no, I'm not a sociopath."
An array of soft laughs is heard as she slowly looks up at the stage again.
"I'm gonna fast forward to about two years afterwards…we were both seventeen, and we were in the final round of the Grande Festival. The Ribbon Cup was so close I could feel it right in my hands…"
She remembers every piece of dialogue from that miniscule memory he just described.
Despite the fact that it was all in front of her, she still denied it.
"Welcome to the Grande Festival final round! We've seen many talented coordinators in the past few days, and now, we are down to the best of the best! Please introduce our first coordinator, from Petalburg City, Haruka!"
The young brunette confidently walks onto the stage, and the screams erupted from the crowd as she arrived on the scene. She couldn't help the smile that came onto her face, seeing so many people excited to see her battle.
"And her opponent, from La Rousse City, Shuu!"
She made no reaction as her all-time rival swaggered onto the stage, making no reaction to the cheers that came from the large audience. As he locked eyes with her, he winked at her, and pulled out two Pokeballs.
This was more than just a physical battle between Pokemon, this was also an engagement of mental warfare between the two. They both had a habit of turning their stomachs upside down…in the bad way.
"Contrary to the other battles that have taken place today, this battle will be a single battle."
"HUH?" Both Shuu and Haruka gasped.
"You know, short and sweet!"
"Aww man…there goes my whole strategy." Shuu annoyingly thought to himself.
"Make your decision now trainers!"
"I guess I'll put Flygon away for now…" He thinks to himself, putting one Pokeball back. "Make your decision yet, amateur?"
She growls as she puts Blaziken back and maintains her grip on her most trusted contest Pokemon.
"Roserade, go!" He cries out.
"Beautifly, the stage is yours!"
The rose Pokemon, and the butterfly Pokemon each come out of their Pokeballs, looking healthy and ready to fight.
"I got very nervous. Beautifly was her best Pokemon. It was beautiful, hence it's name, it was powerful, and most of all, it was the Pokemon she had the biggest connection to. Then again, Roserade and I had been partners ever since I started." He explains to the audience.
Her jaw hung in awe.
It was him.
"Roserade use petal dance!"
Pink petals flew from the two roses on Roserade's hands and flew towards Beautifly at an impressive speed.
"Gust, then Silver Wind!"
He was surprised by the power of the gust that emanated from Beautifly's wing movements. As the petals moved back toward Roserade, the Silver Wind made the petals turn into a bright, sparkly white, and ran back to Roserade at an even faster pace.
"Magical Leaf defense Roserade!"
At the instant where the petals would've collided with Roserade, the thorn Pokemon spun in multiple circles, forming the leaves into tornado that deterred the sparkling petals away from it.
Haruka's points go down a little, making her panic start to make its uninvited appearance in her mind.
"Roserade Magical Leaf!"
She sees the glowing green leaves shoot toward her side of the field out of the corner of her eye, and quickly gains her focus back.
"Beautifly use Gust to dodge!"
Beautifly complies, and leaves a trail of sparkles as it dodges the Magical Leaf. Not only does it dodge, but the leaves are beat down onto the ground.
This causes Shuu's points to go down a little more than Haruka's did. However, he still maintained the current lead.
This was when the idea popped into Shuu's mind.
He knew that she would never use the same move twice, and there was only one move that she could use to dodge his next move.
"Roserade, Petal Dance!"
Pink petals gracefully flew from the roses on Roserade's hands and went toward Beautifly.
"Silver Wind Beautifly!"
"Mind you, Silver Wind only powers the Petal Dance even more. I knew Haruka very well. She wanted to use all of her Pokemon's powers…she wasn't one for overusing anything. She was a new, fresh coordinator. I wouldn't admit it, but she was close to becoming better than me in such a short period of time. She really did make me lose sleep. I won't tell you the end of that battle, since I think you all know what happened, but I will tell you the important part."
Haruka sinks onto the floor, covering her face.
She did not want to think about this, especially right now. Especially when she was supposed to meet such an influential artist, one that made her mind go in every direction possible…except for the one he was describing right now.
She is seen outside with her Beautifly, looking up at the night sky, observing the night sky.
"That Shuu. He is such an arrogant jerk, dontcha think?"
Beautifly chirps in reply, earning a smile from its trainer.
"Yeah…but he does deserve it. He's simply amazing with his Pokemon. I wish I could be that good with them…"
"You're not too far away."
Widening her eyes at the familiar voice, she turns around to see her biggest rival smirking at her.
"Poor little Haruka. Feeling all down and depressed." He comments while walking up to her.
"I am not! I'm simply…planning for the future."
"In such a negative manner? That's not the Haruka I know."
"Whatever. What do you want?"
"This isn't your arena, you know. I can walk around and talk about how much better my rival is than me."
"Ugh…"
"Look, Haruka. It may not seem like you're doing too well right now, but you're on a great path right now."
She looks up at him with incredulous eyes. "Really."
"Yes. Right now, you're so close to finally surpassing me, and I'll tell you, it annoys me."
"How so?"
"It took me more then ten years to get to this state, and it barely takes you any time to be better than me. You may not appreciate me saying this, but I do respect you, and I'll bet next year that you'll win…since I won't be competing of course."
She rolls her eyes at this, but takes in the fact that he respected her.
"You respect me?"
"Of course."
"I didn't think you were capable."
"Well I am. I didn't think I was capable of a lot of things when it came to you, but lately, I've discovered I was wrong."
"Like…?"
"Well…"
He takes her hand into his, and uses his thumb to stroke the back of it. She looks up at him with sparkling blue eyes full of surprise and wonder.
"Shuu…" she mutters, looking down at their conjoined hands.
"You have such a fire to you. I absolutely love that."
She is at a loss for words. "When…how…what?"
"Should I really go into details?"
"…No I guess not…"
He pulls her closer to him so that their noses incidentally touch. Her face immediately turns a shade of vermilion. Before she can awkwardly interject, he connects their lips for a long peck. The only sounds she could hear was the pounding of her heart and her stuttered breaths that uttered from her nostrils.
As he slowly let go, she looked as if she were in some type of trance, not opening her eyes, or moving her hands from his shoulders.
"Before I make my departure…"
She feels soft petals on her lips, and opens her eyes to see a lively red rose in front of her, behind it, a face she now views as beautiful. When she takes it in her shaking hand, he turns on his heel and exits, leaving a newly-smitten girl.
"I wish I was smooth as I was back then."
Another soft eruption of laughter come from the crowd.
Haruka was near tears, since she knew what he was going to touch on next.
"After that, we were completely rapt in young love. They say it's the most true of them all…I just knew it was great. But sadly, all great things must come to an end."
His face changed from affable to sheer melancholy.
"I wish I could've changed this ending though…"
The two were in his apartment. They were now nineteen, living on what kind of money they could earn from contests. They didn't care; they were living the good life…as long as they had each other.
"Have you ever thought about getting married?" She brings up, sitting herself on "their" bed.
"Of course I've thought about it." He replies, sitting next to her.
"Do you think we ever could…what with money and all?"
He pauses, looks down at his feet, then looks back up at her. "We don't need marriage. We just need each other, right?"
She smiles. "You're right."
He connects their lips, her immediately responding to those warm, soft lips she's grown to love over the years. She rubs her hand up his back and into his hair as he lies her down onto the bed, continuing to kiss her sweetly. She sheepishly grips the end of his shirt and slightly pulls it up, rubbing her fingertips against his smooth back as he moved to her neck. Stretching her neck out, she placed butterfly kisses on his cheek, jaw, ear; anywhere.
His hand then moved from her face down to her chest, cupping gently with curiosity.
"I love you…" softly utters out of her lips as she closes her eyes.
"I love you too…" he replies in the same tone, returning to her lips, leaving a love mark.
He then quickens the pace of the kiss, making her hold onto his shirt tighter as he bit her lip, asking for entrance; however, she does not give it to him. Not wanting to pressure her, he grips her back, and sits up, pulling her with him so she sat on his lap while being tightly hugged.
"Please don't leave me…" He mutters into her hair, inhaling her saccharine scent.
"Never…" She whispers, continuing to stroke her fingers against his shoulder bone. He closes his eyes in response to the soft contact, and pulls her closer to him
"She broke that promise. About a month or two after that experience…full of ecstasy…I find her with another man."
The crowd falls deathly silent, women covering their mouths, men staring in awe.
"That fight was the worst encounter I will ever have in my life…I know it for a fact. I wanted to fight for the one I loved, but she just wanted to fight for herself. Yet I was still so in love with her it hurt."
"How could you do this to me Haruka? HOW?" Shuu yells at her.
"A woman has needs Shuu, and you weren't exactly giving them!"
"Are you kidding me? I don't pressure you into anything in fear of you accusing me of just wanting you for sex!"
Haruka stops and sighs.
"Please Haruka…tell me what I did wrong."
"…You did nothing wrong Shuu. I was just being stupid."
"WHAT THE HELL KIND OF RESPONSE IS THAT?"
"It's the truth!"
"That can't be it. There must be something else. Am I not attractive enough for you? Am I not good to you? WHAT DID I DO…please. I need to know so I can move on from this easier."
"Shuu, I'm telling you. This was all me. I'm the idiot. I'm the one who is the wrongdoer."
"I am VERY well aware. But I HAD to have done something."
"There's nothing else I can tell you!"
"Other than it was the best time of your life? With him?"
She sighs. "…No, Shuu."
"That's a lie."
There is a pause, making Shuu's past statement become truer and truer with every passing second.
"Well, I bid you adieu. I hope you have a great life without me."
"I never wanted to leave. I just wanted to hug her and say everything was all right. I wanted to call her mine again for so long. As time went on, I began to convince myself that she just said I did nothing wrong to cover up the fact that I wasn't good enough for her. I convinced myself that—"
He looks out to the audience at that very moment, and locks eyes with a familiar shade of blue. That shade of blue that he had fallen in love with every time he gazed into them.
"—I…I convinced myself that…she…I…" he cannot breathe or think straight.
The crowd started looking at one another in bewilderment. Haruka kept staring at him, seeing that he knew just who he was looking at.
"I…umm…I…"
He stops, and takes a deep breath.
"Long story short, she broke my heart. I was so in love with her, and she just tears it out, throws it onto the ground, and stabs nails into it."
She began to cry.
"It seems like such a minor thing, being cheated on. Yet, as I contemplate on it more and more, well, it's the idea that your lover forgets about you and goes after someone who they think is better than you. It really is heartbreaking when you go into the schematics of it, which I sadly repeated on a daily basis for two years. I went into hiding, gave all my Pokemon to random day care centers, and took my anger out by painting. The Lady in Red that is displayed in so many paintings is Haruka. She was the girl that I fell in love with, with no regrets; that girl was my every thing, my reason to live. Now, she's just an ominous memory…that fire we once had was burned out by the cold, icy wind of debauchery. Now, all I have are my paintings. That's the story of the Lady in Red."
One hand cautiously rises into the air, belonging to a little girl with her grandparents. They brought her there for her birthday…never would she have thought that she would hear this heartbreaking story.
"Yes?" He says, pointing at her, motioning for her to speak.
"If you ever say Haruka again, what would you do?" She asks in a small smile.
Haruka brings her eyes to the man she never stopped loving, eager for his response.
"If I ever saw her again, well, sure…I'd physically see her. But in my mind, I'd block her forever. I cannot afford to go through that type of heartbreak again. It was as if I were dying a slow, sordid death, however I was never sated with the satisfaction of death itself, just that constant pain. You don't know what that's like yet, and hopefully you won't. It's something I don't want to live through. However, I know one thing positive would come out if I ever saw her again…"
"What's that?" The girl asks.
"…I would paint something that would be worth almost thirty bucks."
The End
This story was influenced by the heartbreak I went through around Christmas time last year with my current boyfriend...what Haruka said was her reason for the cheating was exactly what he had said why he did it, and well...I thought it was the worst excuse ever. Shuu's feelings are exactly what I felt.
Except, I'm not as strong as Shuu.
I got back together with him a week after the girl he cheated on me with dumped him. Pathetic, right?
Well, one makes the most rational decisions when not infatuated.
I waited five months for that boy. Five, painful, long months. Like Shuu said...
"It was as if I were dying a slow, sordid death, however I was never sated with the satisfaction of death itself, but that constant pain."
So yeah. A bit of a personal story, and I thought Contestshipping would be the best for this...I don't know how Shinji would've done in Shuu's role in this story...
So yeah! :D
~Im-A-Horror-Freak