Wholly White
"Shirabuki-sama, these paintings are marvelous, I've always wanted to mention." Shirabuki turned to see his associate gesturing towards a few of his paintings lining the wall. The awe and admiration in his expression was genuine and he felt a flicker of pride warm his emotions. Those paintings were special, a favorite of his daughter's and well, quite pricey, though that was through no fault of the artist.
"I don't see a signature…" The other vampire trailed off. He'd like to get in touch with this painter himself. The use of his colors were breathtaking. This was only the third time visiting Shirabuki-sama's home, and yet, he couldn't get these paintings out of his mind. It was as though it went out of its way to touch something deep within him.
"Mischievous child that he is, he likes to hide it within the painting." Shirabuki allowed a smile to lift his lips as he approached. "Take a closer look at the coattails of the figure in the back," he pointed. There, on the dark, smoky blue of the coattail, was a tiny rose insignia, also of a similar hue, painted in. It was so easily lost amongst all the colors and composition, it was near impossible to spot unless you knew what you were looking for.
"A rose…"
"Yes, Bloody Rose. Rather dramatic, no?" Shirabuki chuckled. "Would you like his name? I say he still needs more people to get him out of that house." If it were not for his art, he didn't think the young painter would have any reason to step out of that stuffy room of his. The scent of oil paints and gesso were a permanent distinguishing feature. "I will advise not to get so impatient with his difficult attitude. As you can see, the work will be more than worth the effort."
--
Hanabusa blinked as he saw his father practically prance back home. He was humming a tune as he slipped out of his outerwear and sat behind his desk. His father had called him here as soon as he'd gotten back, saying it was urgent. He didn't seem to be in a hurry however. The youngest child of the Aido line wondered what he wanted. He stepped forward cautiously,
"Father?"
"Ah, Hanabusa, I'd like for you to run an errand for me, as I will be busy the next coming days. I could of course send someone else, however, the person I want you to meet deserves a direct representative from our family. I don't dare send any of the girls, and I felt you would do well for this." He brought out a check. "He may change the price to what he prefers, but he must go by my requirements."
From there on, Hanabusa listened closely to what his father wanted, as to relay the information accurately and left the study quietly, wondering what was so great about this painter it had his father so excited. Not to mention, he'd have to cancel an outing with Kain and Ruka to meet whomever this was. Apparently, he only accepted visitors on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Letting out a disgruntled frown, he threw himself on his bed.
"Bloody Rose…how lame."
--
"Eh? So Aido isn't coming?" Takuma sipped his drink. They'd all been planning to go to a famous concert in two days. "Was it something that urgent? There's nothing wrong is there?" This was Aido's favorite group. It was unlike the blond to refuse such an opportunity.
Kain shook his head. "Apparently Uncle wants him to go see a painter he's taken a liking to. They only accept visits on Tuesdays and Thursdays – every three months." Takuma blinked. My… "Every three months? What does he do if he only sees patrons so infrequently?"
Ruka raised a brow. "Do you not know anything about painting? It can take months, if not years to complete a single piece. Seeing someone every three months is almost too much." Considering how famous he was amongst the higher circles, she doubted he had to worry about the number of patrons. It was very few who actually got their requests accepted and completed. She respected him for his backbone in dealing with what could only be pushy arrogant men and women of wealth all demanding their own share of his talent.
"I apologize for my ignorance," Takuma smiled. "So who is Aido going to see? There aren't many painters that are favorites amongst us." Vampires were very picky. It was hard for them to generally agree on something when it came to catering their own tastes. To have caught the attention of Aido's father, who was known for his art collection, this painter couldn't have just been any old lay about.
"I'm sure you've heard of him as well, Ichijo, ignorant as you are about these matters." Ruka folded her hands. "I hear he's awfully young, some even consider him a prodigy. Even your grandfather must have taken notice of Bloody Rose." Of course, she was right. Bloody Rose was what had his grandfather in a foul mood for days. Apparently, the reclusive painter didn't deem Ichijo Asato worthy enough to work for. From what Takuma gathered, the elder vampire had been flat out rejected along with some extra derogatory comments attached to the end of it.
"Oh I've certainly heard of him," he chuckled, "I must say, he's one brave soul." He didn't give an explanation for his words and they didn't push. Bloody Rose… he wondered what type of person he was.
--
Hanabusa sighed standing outside a fair sized three-story house, pulling slightly at his tie. Fixing it back, he tried to keep his head from hanging and rang for the door. A few rings later, (he'd admit, hearing the sound of the screams from the movie 'Psycho' for their doorbell freaked him a bit) he was led inside to a room to his left, made to wait on a couch.
He supposed he sat there for about ten minutes before the door opened and a young man, human, Hanabusa vaguely noted, stepped into the room. He only leaned against the frame however, and didn't take a seat. Letting out a yawn, he glared in the blonde's direction. "You look like you'd rather be anywhere else but here. I'm not taking orders from some uppity kid who probably only came as his daddy's errand boy." He reached for the knob behind him, "Goodbye, thank you for wasting your time, don't come back again."
Incensed, Hanabusa shot up, hands fists at his sides, "Wait, I already went through the trouble of getting here. Can you at least listen to what I have to say?" What did this human think he was? If this was how he always treated his buyers, it was a wonder anyone came back at all. Maybe this wasn't the painter? But the smell of what had to be paint and wood was unmistakable.
"Spoiled brats like you are the type I hate the most. If your daddy's so interested, he can come to make his own demands on his own. Or when you actually feel like coming here, whichever," he opened the door.
"Um, wait please, my father was really excited about this. He must have seen your work somewhere. I'm sorry I don't know anything about things like this, but even if you don't like me, can you listen for my father?" Hanabusa didn't know why the words were coming out of his mouth. Really he'd have just liked to freeze the arrogant human and get it over with, but he knew that wasn't any way to make demands.
"Turning on the charms? You're more annoying than I thought. I have better things to do than listen to you rave about your father." He turned to go out, "but if you're that desperate, come back in two days. You can tell daddy dearest I was just too busy to see you today." The door closed silently as he left. Hanabusa, still left standing, felt a little dumbstruck. What the hell was that?
Fuming, he returned home to tell his father the offered excuse from the human. Surprisingly, he didn't get upset at all, and nodded seriously, mentioning such an accomplished painter must have his hands full at all hours of the day. That reminded Hanabusa of the huge yawn the human gave when he came into the room and he grimaced. So what? He wasn't feeling sorry for that, that, well, whatever, he groused to himself.
--
Ruka and Kain watched half fond and half exasperated as their friend and cousin ranted about his failed visit to the painter's home. From the rumors, Ruka felt Hanabusa had it off easy, but there was no telling that to the boy's wounded ego. The blond felt he had suffered some great injustice and hadn't shut up about it for last thirty minutes. She saw Kain sigh and knew he was at his patience limit. Well, it was about time, someone stopped him. Hanabusa was acting just like the spoiled brat the painter had accused him of being.
"Hanabusa, quiet down," Kain said as he pulled his cousin down onto the couch next to him. "Personally, if you went there feeling as you did, I'm surprised he offered to let you visit again. Maybe it was pity?" He looked amused. His cousin felt far from such and the glare on his face proved it. Ruka shook her head.
"Hanabusa, Kain is right. You'll get nowhere if you went to him again with that attitude. If you want to do this for your father, put aside your pride and deal with Bloody Rose as a first son of a noble family should." She sniffed. "You're giving us all a bad name, you know."
Looking sullen, Hanabusa crossed his arms. "I know, it's just, and he's so – argh!" He flopped over. "I'll just sleep on it. Maybe I'll feel better in two days." He very much doubted it, but trying couldn't hurt.
--
"So it's you again. I'm actually surprised you came back for another round." This time, he walked over sat and down across from him. Hanabusa hoped he was interpreting right in that he thought that was a good sign. Taking a breath and readying himself for more of the painter's sharp tongue, he opened his mouth to apologize for the way he'd acted the previous time. He blinked and automatically stopped when the human raised a hand. What now? Had he breathed wrong, perhaps?
"Save your apologies for someone who cares. Tell me what you want and we can both leave happy." He raised a brow. "Well? Start yapping. What does daddy dearest want out of me?"
Swallowing down the angry words threatening to spill forth, Hanabusa started laying out what his father had relayed to him days ago. "He really liked the second piece in your 'White Prince' series and wants something with a similar atmosphere. He'd rather have the colors a little warmer and brighter, though, since he's planning to put it up above our fireplace. He'd also rather it not be a war scene, but otherwise, you're free to choose whatever topic you desire."
The painter nodded, ideas already springing up in his mind. His 'White Prince' series was a private commission, not many knew about it but the owner and his close friends. So this really was Aido Hanabusa. Well, someone recommended from Shirabuki shouldn't be too bad, he supposed. Taking this on couldn't hurt.
"Come back…three months from now." Hanabusa nodded and reached inside his coat for the check. The painter stopped him again. "I'll see about money after I'm done with the painting. If it's to your father's liking, I'll accept it. If not, I'll start on another piece." He then got up and left quietly, his expression contemplative. It was obvious he was lost in his own world.
Well, that wasn't so bad, Hanabusa thought to himself as he was led out of the painter's home. It did start out rocky, but it went fine towards the end. For some reason he'd changed his mind about accepting the work instead of outright rejecting it. From what Ruka had implied, he supposed it went better than it could have. His father would be happy at least. He'd get his prized painting in three months.
--
"He told you to come back in three months?" Ruka asked. Hanabusa nodded. They looked up when they heard Takuma enter, Kaname not too far behind. "Who told who to come back in three months?" The Ichijo heir asked as he sat down.
"Bloody Rose," Kain answered. "Hanabusa actually managed to get him to paint, apparently." Takuma blinked, "really? I didn't mention it last time, but he had dear old grandfather in a hissy fit for days on end."
Hanabusa snorted. "I can totally see that. He can try the patience of a saint, I tell you. I'm surprised he isn't buried six feet under with that attitude of his. He can probably say something to offend even you, Ichijo."
"Bloody Rose?" Kaname spoke up for the first time. "He is a favorite of my father's, as well as Shirabuki-sama's. There is not one pureblood family in Japan who hasn't had the pleasure of meeting him in person. His artwork is exquisite. Whatever attitude he may have, it certainly doesn't show in his pieces." Kaname hadn't the chance to meet the man himself, but hoped one day he'd have the opportunity.
"A favorite of Kuran-sama and Shirabuki-sama?" Hanabusa looked shocked. "Is he really that good? He even has my father singing praises about him. He doesn't seem like someone who could paint well at all."
"I think you'll understand when you see it firsthand, Aido," Kaname smiled.
--
Nothing prepared Hanabusa for the third visit to Blood Rose. Getting out of the car and led inside, he was again, made to wait in the same room as last time. But today, there was someone already there. "Kaname-sama!"
"Aido," Kaname looked unfazed. "I remember, this is the third month since you last visited. Are you here to pick up the painting?"
The blond nodded. "And you, Kaname-sama? Are you also here for a painting?" The pureblood chuckled. "Why else would I be here? I asked my father if I could come in his place and he agreed."
The both started when they suddenly heard shouting outside in the halls. One, Hanabusa could tell was the painter's voice, loud and clear and other he supposed was another patron who'd gotten off on the wrong foot. Their keen sense of hearing notified them of two pairs of footsteps quickly approaching. Unable to hold in his curiosity, Hanabusa opened the door a crack to see outside.
"Get the fuck out, now! I don't ever want to see your face here again, how many times do I have to tell you that, perverted asshole! I'd tell you to take your crap with you if it wouldn't give me the pleasure of burning it to a crisp in my backyard after this." Hanabusa gulped. He certainly sounded angry.
"I know how scared you must be, but it's alright to accept love from others, beloved. Please let me—"
There was the sound of something hitting against something else and a cry of pain. "You're fucking deluded, get out! I'll start shooting if I don't see you walking your ass out of here in the next two seconds! One, two…" There was a sound of scrambling and Hanabusa saw a tall figure quickly run past with the sound of the door closing not a second later.
The painter softly cursed and Hanabusa heard him talking quietly to the butler who'd let him in. Quickly shutting the door, he sat back down, purposely ignoring the amused look on Kaname's face. Well, it was nice to see someone was enjoying this, he supposed.
The door opened and the painter stepped in alarming the two vampires with the gun that was still in his hand. Seeing their expression, the man looked down at the weapon and sighed. "Don't have to get all jumpy, I'm not going to shoot you." He stuck the gun in the waistband of his paint stained jeans. Motioning with his arm for them to follow, he talked as he walked.
"Aido right? I've got your painting right in… here," he unlocked the door and pushed it open, inviting the blond to go inside. The painting was medium sized, approximately 120 by 150 centimeters if he had that right. Seeing it, Hanabusa gaped. He could now understand why his father had been so ecstatic to have Bloody Rose paint for him. Kaname had been right. Experiencing it firsthand certainly changed things.
It definitely wasn't a war scene, but it had the atmosphere of one. It also had a sensual quality to it that had his spine tingling. Swallowing heavily, Hanabusa felt himself absolutely riveted by the emotions that welled inside him, gazing at this painting. He unconsciously moved forward, wanting to get closer.
"Watch it, it's still wet." The painter's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He was standing by the door, Kaname beside him. "So, like it?"
Hanabusa nodded dumbly, "um yes. Oh," he stuck his hand inside his coat for the check, handing it over. Seeing the amount, the painter whistled. "Tell daddy dearest he doesn't have to offer this much next time round." Next time? He would allow a next time? His father would be unbearable now. He wondered if he should warn the painter of it, then changed his mind. He himself was interested in seeing what this man would come up with.
Bloody Rose turned to Kaname. "You're Kuran's kid right? I've been expecting you." He stuck the check into his back pocket. "Said you wanted a tour?" Kaname nodded. "Well Haruka's a favorite of mine and I'm not working on anything. Ogle at my past crappy works as much as you want." He turned to lead them both out.
"Wait, is it okay if I come with you?" Hanabusa asked. He wanted to see more. The painter raised a brow. "You? I don't know…I already told you how I feel about brats." He chuckled at the look on Hanabusa's face. "Come on blondie." He wasn't so spiteful. He could tell 'Silk' had caught his attention. He wasn't one to bar someone from wanting to see and enjoy visual art.
"My studio rooms aren't so hard to figure out." Indeed, both vampires could see and smell the paint on the doorframe and some on the knob. "Check out whatever you like as long as the doors are unlocked. I need to wash up." He was hungry and wasn't about to eat with paint all over him.
--
"Kaname-sama, his work is so…emotional and dark and—"
"Sinfully beautiful?" Kaname offered. Hanabusa paused and nodded. "Yes, that's exactly it. It's hard to for me to see how someone like him could create something so breathtaking. Even his sketches were compelling."
They were still in one of the studios, taking their time in seeing every one of the artist's pieces. Hanabusa personally preferred the fierce fiery ones with a cool touch of color, the blues and purples adding ground to the bright colors. From what Kaname kept gazing at, and Hanabusa thought it should have been no surprise, he preferred elegance with a soft touch.
"You two still here?"
They turned to the door and blinked. Yes, it was the painter, but his shirt was left completely unbuttoned, exposing his chest as he dried his hair. He stepped further into the room, his otherwise bare feet incased in sandals. "Find anything you like?" Kaname immediately pointed out one of his favorites among the room, a small 45 by 60 painting depicting a small child sitting in a dark room full of roses, her pristine white dress making a sharp contrast with her surroundings.
The painter nodded, humming, " 'The Admirer'? I did that one around six months ago. It's dried, you can take that with you." He smiled, "give her a pretty frame, she's delicate." He picked it off the wall and handed it to the pureblood who thanked him with a smile of his own.
"May I get your real name?" He asked, hoping it wasn't too personal. There must have been a reason why he signed his paintings with a rose instead of his name. The painter in question just raised a brow and shrugged however. "Why not? You don't seem the type to go flapping your lips wherever you go." Placing another painting in place of the one he just took off, he answered,
"Kiryuu Zero."
--
Disclaimer: No own Vampire Knights. Just borrowing characters. No profit.
Thank you for reading everyone. Er, how was it?
