Title: Astounding Beauty
Author: Dana-chaaan.
Information: Anime – DNAngel – DaisukeSatoshi
Word Count: 955
Summary: The portrait he painted was a masterpiece, but something was amiss. The key ingredient wasn't apparent, but Daisuke had no idea of how to find this unknown variable.
Prompt: "The portrait he painted was a masterpiece, but..." Daisuke x Anyone.
Author's Note: Once again, a wonderful prompt from pinksnow. I hope this fanfiction turns out well, because I think I'm rather bad at DNAngel fanfiction, but this will (hopefully) prove me wrong. Anyways, please enjoy this story as best as you can! Thanks!
Dedication: pinksnow
.Startofstory.
PaintMeAMasterpiece
Stroking the paint-coated brush one last time across the heavyweight canvas, the redhead sat back to admire his work. Looking at the drawing, he was greeted with a pair of artificial, beady eyes staring directly at him. He smiled at the life he had created on canvas, mulling over what might need to be adjusted.
It had been a school project, to draw a portrait of your choice of partner. Riku had happily announced to be his partner, for she rather enjoyed his drawings and for a while now she had wanted a picture drawn of her by him. Even though, he mused, their relationship didn't work out quite as he planned, they managed to stay good friends.
This picture of Riku shined with astounding beauty, he thought. He was still very much so in love with her, but lately it was more of an aesthetic appreciation.
She had given him a picture of herself, one she thought was the most appealing of her, and he had done the same. Embarrassedly, he remembered her muttering her drawing would be no where as good as his, but he didn't care too much. It was, all in all, just a class assignment, and if anything this was only a way to fulfill Riku's request not long ago.
Staring at the colored elaboration of the short-haired twin, Daisuke frowned silently. The isle was situated by the window, and the sunlight gleamed through the clear glass. His door was opened ajar, yet all was quiet in his room. This picture, although beautiful, there was something wrong. Daisuke couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something wasn't as it should be.
The portrait he painted was a masterpiece, that was for sure, but something was amiss.
Walking away from the upright canvas, Daisuke picked up his sketch book and flipped it open. Glancing through the pages, he found that each and every one of his pictures was missing this same thing. He didn't know how to describe it, but it was almost as though he had forgotten the key ingredient in drawing. However, he knew nothing of this key ingredient.
Risa, Dark, sceneries, unknown people, faces, Wiz, and other abstract ideas drawn were all without something he didn't understand. Daisuke frowned at the sketch book, as though it was suppose to give him the answers but was lip-locked. He closed the book and tossed it on the comforter beside him, falling listlessly backwards and closing his eyes in the relaxing feel of the bed.
Rather strangely and suddenly, a picture of Hiwatari flew to the spot behind his eyelids. Surprised, he sat upright, the image of the boy still glued to his mental eye. Confused and bewildered, the redhead grabbed the sketch pad and a lead pencil from his desk and set out drawing the insistent picture.
Paying no mind to the details of which his hand created, he let the imaginative image flow from his brain to his fingertips to scratch upon the paper, bringing forth a portrait of which he knew nothing about. An hour past, driving him past the setting of the sun and the words stated from his loved ones. Eventually, he pulled away from his work of art once he felt something out of his reach had completed itself on its own. Staring skeptically at the figurative portrait, he wondered.
He looked at the sketched picture, astounded. Normally, when looking at his own work, he critiqued to his best ability. He'd either feel proud of his accomplishment or deflated at his lack of artistic talent. But, with this picture, there was something different. Daisuke felt nothing as he looked at the masterpiece he had absently created. It was as thought he was looking at someone else's work and not his own.
However, much to his dismay, he noted the key ingredient was still missing. Or, he thought, maybe it wasn't. Maybe, for he wasn't really feeling, just scrutinizingly critiquing, the missing dosage of something really did exist in this random art.
Picking up his sketch book, he compared the free-hand drawing with the painted portrait. A smile traced his lips as his mind faltered in being able to think rationally about this strange occurrence. Looking at the bewildering beauty of Riku's image, he felt a small sense of pride while also a distant sensation of discouragement. Yet, as his eyes rolled over the quick sketch of Satoshi, he found himself imagining what it would be like to see a smile on those lips, like it was in the picture. Daisuke thought idly of how beautiful a smiling Hiwatari Satoshi would truly be; however, knowing he would be the least likeliest person to be granted with that sight.
His lips tweaked upward as he smiled adoringly at the picture. This masterpiece he had created on pure whimsical nature repelled more beauty than the painted portrait of a girl he felt swelled him with love. But, the latter was missing something vital, while the former, although probably missing that same thing as well, was the perfect stand alone. Daisuke, compelled by instinct to draw such an image, had bestowed upon his sketch book something he did not comprehend.
Yet, this impressive sketch radiated with artificial beauty of the source and authentic beauty of and by itself.
Daisuke did not know what it was, but Satoshi had something beautiful about himself that made him more amazing on paper than anything he had ever drawn. It was astonishing, really, but the redhead strangely felt it was befitting. Satoshi, he thought with a smile, was really very beautiful. And this portrait he created only captured a glimpse of the true beauty that was Hiwatari Satoshi.
.Endofstory.