Point of Balance
- An examination of Himura Kenshin's past-
Arcueid
Disclaimer: Nobuhiro Watsuki; not mine.
Prologue: Market Day
The finishing touch.
His eyes narrowed in concentration as he added it, his hands almost shaking as the last detail was applied.
Then a signature, hidden in a dark corner of the piece.
He did not wish for fame, glory or wealth. Simply to express his soul through his newly found hobby. And so, his signature would be hidden. Added simply because dealers would not accept it otherwise.
He sat back, sighing, finally allowing himself to ease into a comfortable sitting position against the wall.
He was finished at last.
~***~
It was a perfect day- Or at least for pickpockets.
They had always excelled in their art in the crowds, he mused, slipping through the throngs of people as a fish swam through water. Unbeknownst to him, he could be seen in the same way. His unhurried strides were of an unnatural grace, marking him as different - trained and skilled. People surrounded him on all sides and yet he was untouched as he glided through, unnoticed as the crowd unconsciously parted.
The typical hustle and bustle of market day had swelled to an unimaginable amount-predictable, considering that it was only a few days away from the annual summer festival. The balloons, new shipments of outfits from China and even the onslaught of mouth-watering foods would have alerted anyone of the special occasion. Shopkeepers were busy taking advantage of the crowd. They were either advertising their merchandise to any unfortunate soul or were arguing heatedly over prices.
"Kenshin!"
The red head winced inwardly at the distinct sh-, no, high pitched call. Really, his hearing wasn't that bad, even when he wasn't paying any attention.
Plastering on a rueful grin, he hurried towards Kaoru, conveniently tripping over a wooden crate and bumping into what would have been a successful pickpocketer.
"Sumimasen de gozaru yo."
He executed a quick shallow bow, smiling his innocent clueless smile before turning away. He ignored the cursing man -such colourful language- and took note of the stall Kaoru was standing in front of as he neatly sidestepped the path of a running vibrant girl with pigtails.
"Hai! I'm coming!"
Something was different. It was clearly not a scheduled shop on their regular shopping tour; Kaoru had only just bought a blue kimono with a lovely flower pattern and he was holding their conquest of this week's groceries. Eyes narrowing, he gazed past the flood of merchants, tired mothers and the like. The contents of the stall were hidden by the shadows created by the sun and Kaoru's figure obscured what would have been a clear view.
She was mesmerized. Whatever held her attention was suddenly highly of interest. In fact, one could almost say that she was in awe of- "something". Around her, the people flowed around her lithe figure, carrying baskets of food, avoiding what they considered to be an obstacle.
He took his place beside her, curious as to the object that held her interest. Another ribbon? Or perhaps an ornament? He was wrong on all counts. In fact, it was the last thing he expected.
"Kirei...Kaa-san always wished I could paint like this, instead of following Tou-san in practicing kenjutsu."
She brushed her fingertips over the article in question with visible reverence. Her fingerpads tracing over the slightly worn canvas, feeling the rough brush strokes.
He stared. Then he blinked and stared again.
A painting. Or, to be exact, his painting.
~***~
He examined the piece Kaoru was staring at carefully. A lone cloaked figure stood on top of a cliff, looking down at the bright, celebrating village below. The figure was shrouded in darkness; the weak moonlight only succeeding to highlight his outline softly. Although his features were obscured in the shadows, from his positioning, it was clear that he was filled with grief. The starless night sky only enhancing the mysterious sorrow that was exuded.
In contrast, the village was filled with a harsh light, its bright lights causing the moonlight to seem pale and wan in comparison. Tiny flags symbolizing the celebration that was taking place hung limply, looping through the entire town.
It was familiar to him. This piece had been his first- this painting that expressed his soul through the dark swirling colours.
He checked to make sure. It shouldn't be, and yet...
The final proof lay in the bottom right corner. There was no denying it now. His cramped signature was scrawled on, unnoticeable in the carefully constructed dark corner unless it was looked for.
END PROLOGUE
AN- I will readily admit that I know next to nothing about art, seeming as I dropped the course like a hot potato. Add the fact that this is my first piece for creative writing, much less fanfiction (first time) in 6 years and well...
Anyways, please review!
- An examination of Himura Kenshin's past-
Arcueid
Disclaimer: Nobuhiro Watsuki; not mine.
Prologue: Market Day
The finishing touch.
His eyes narrowed in concentration as he added it, his hands almost shaking as the last detail was applied.
Then a signature, hidden in a dark corner of the piece.
He did not wish for fame, glory or wealth. Simply to express his soul through his newly found hobby. And so, his signature would be hidden. Added simply because dealers would not accept it otherwise.
He sat back, sighing, finally allowing himself to ease into a comfortable sitting position against the wall.
He was finished at last.
~***~
It was a perfect day- Or at least for pickpockets.
They had always excelled in their art in the crowds, he mused, slipping through the throngs of people as a fish swam through water. Unbeknownst to him, he could be seen in the same way. His unhurried strides were of an unnatural grace, marking him as different - trained and skilled. People surrounded him on all sides and yet he was untouched as he glided through, unnoticed as the crowd unconsciously parted.
The typical hustle and bustle of market day had swelled to an unimaginable amount-predictable, considering that it was only a few days away from the annual summer festival. The balloons, new shipments of outfits from China and even the onslaught of mouth-watering foods would have alerted anyone of the special occasion. Shopkeepers were busy taking advantage of the crowd. They were either advertising their merchandise to any unfortunate soul or were arguing heatedly over prices.
"Kenshin!"
The red head winced inwardly at the distinct sh-, no, high pitched call. Really, his hearing wasn't that bad, even when he wasn't paying any attention.
Plastering on a rueful grin, he hurried towards Kaoru, conveniently tripping over a wooden crate and bumping into what would have been a successful pickpocketer.
"Sumimasen de gozaru yo."
He executed a quick shallow bow, smiling his innocent clueless smile before turning away. He ignored the cursing man -such colourful language- and took note of the stall Kaoru was standing in front of as he neatly sidestepped the path of a running vibrant girl with pigtails.
"Hai! I'm coming!"
Something was different. It was clearly not a scheduled shop on their regular shopping tour; Kaoru had only just bought a blue kimono with a lovely flower pattern and he was holding their conquest of this week's groceries. Eyes narrowing, he gazed past the flood of merchants, tired mothers and the like. The contents of the stall were hidden by the shadows created by the sun and Kaoru's figure obscured what would have been a clear view.
She was mesmerized. Whatever held her attention was suddenly highly of interest. In fact, one could almost say that she was in awe of- "something". Around her, the people flowed around her lithe figure, carrying baskets of food, avoiding what they considered to be an obstacle.
He took his place beside her, curious as to the object that held her interest. Another ribbon? Or perhaps an ornament? He was wrong on all counts. In fact, it was the last thing he expected.
"Kirei...Kaa-san always wished I could paint like this, instead of following Tou-san in practicing kenjutsu."
She brushed her fingertips over the article in question with visible reverence. Her fingerpads tracing over the slightly worn canvas, feeling the rough brush strokes.
He stared. Then he blinked and stared again.
A painting. Or, to be exact, his painting.
~***~
He examined the piece Kaoru was staring at carefully. A lone cloaked figure stood on top of a cliff, looking down at the bright, celebrating village below. The figure was shrouded in darkness; the weak moonlight only succeeding to highlight his outline softly. Although his features were obscured in the shadows, from his positioning, it was clear that he was filled with grief. The starless night sky only enhancing the mysterious sorrow that was exuded.
In contrast, the village was filled with a harsh light, its bright lights causing the moonlight to seem pale and wan in comparison. Tiny flags symbolizing the celebration that was taking place hung limply, looping through the entire town.
It was familiar to him. This piece had been his first- this painting that expressed his soul through the dark swirling colours.
He checked to make sure. It shouldn't be, and yet...
The final proof lay in the bottom right corner. There was no denying it now. His cramped signature was scrawled on, unnoticeable in the carefully constructed dark corner unless it was looked for.
END PROLOGUE
AN- I will readily admit that I know next to nothing about art, seeming as I dropped the course like a hot potato. Add the fact that this is my first piece for creative writing, much less fanfiction (first time) in 6 years and well...
Anyways, please review!