MY ARTISTIC HEART
By Massao28
M/N: Hi peeps! I'm sorry I haven't update for a real long while. I was just so busy and I have almost forgotten the passion for painting and the several things that make this fic. *sighs* I'm also sorry if I let you down by not updating, the truth is, this chap was scheduled to be updated five days after SUC, but the computer was reformatted and we couldn't get through before that so I had to wait and make it better.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.
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Mixed Magic
The tubes of oil paint were scattered on the floor, some caps were broken and some of the oil paint were smearing the tiles. It didn't really matter to Sesshoumaru for he was concentrating on burning the canvas with his eyes that he was trying to paint a simple face of a child.
In truth, the painting of a young girl about six was coming along quite nicely. It was only missing the most important part of all: the eyes of the girl. Eyes are the windows to the soul. And for Sesshoumaru, this girl was lifeless, soulless; an empty shell of a small girl. He hated it.
The Camel Hair brush that cost him some money (quite a lot, actually, but he was, after all, filthy rich) broke in the middle as he snapped his fingers.
Why can't he draw the fucking thing right?!?!
He was stiff, emotionless—that is if you do not look at his eyes-that promised danger for the canvas that innocently stared back at him.
"Where is your soul, Rin?" He muttered loud enough to be heard out side the art studio's door, clutching the side of the canvas. The door opened and a young girl closed the door behind her and scampered towards Sesshoumaru, but stopped a meter away from him.
She smiled brightly at Sesshoumaru, pointing at herself. "Inside me, inside me, Sesshoumaru-aniki," she said jubilantly, giggling a while before noticing the scattered tubes of paint she was not allowed to touch. She knew that Sesshoumaru-aniki took great care of them. But why were they scattered???
"Aniki, why are your painting… tuls-no-stools a mess?" she asked curiously, approaching Sesshoumaru and tugging at the hem of his Lacoste polo. He paid no heed at her, concentrating on the painting. What had gone wrong?
Rin peeked from behind her big brother to look at the painting. Her eyes grew wide and she danced around Sesshoumaru, pointing once again to herself. "That's me! That's me! Sesshoumaru-aniki, that's me!!!" she laughed, filling the whole room with it musical tone. She has now successfully taken the attention of her beloved older brother.
Sesshoumaru raised his eyebrows and bent his knees, still towering over Rin and patting her head. "It's not you, Rin. Look at the eyes," he pointed to the empty sockets. Rin nodded her head. "This girl I'm drawing does not have a soul."
Rin was surprised. Her brother was the best painter in his school (or so she believed). He has won a lot of rewards (are actually medals and trophies) and something else, because he was terrific. Why couldn't he draw the girl's soul?
She knitted her brows together before her eyes grew wide and clamped her chubby hands on Sesshoumaru's. "Aniki, don't draw what you simply see!" she said, taking Sesshoumaru aback. "Mama used to say… draw from the heart," she pointed at her right breast. "Use your heart to see and draw what you see."
Sesshoumaru blinked. How could a young girl like Rin solve the thing he ha never though of? He lowered his gaze at his hands. How could he forget?
It was the first thing his mother ever though him even before he knew how to paint was to draw from the heart. He followed his mother due to respect and abundant love for her. She inspired him and made him feel alive because of the passion she had strived for him. Painting was deeper than a chore, a thing you simply do for Sesshoumaru. Painting is a part of his soul. He followed Rin to her own room, gave her watercolor paint and brushes, leaving her there and going back to his art studio.
Opening a fresh canvas and putting it on his easel, he started to paint like he has never done for two years: he painted from his heart.
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Kagome sighed, packing her painting tools for another class in art. She did not really need Art for her course in Journalism, but it was her passion. The only reason she decided to major in Journalism—for it was easier to find a job in this field rather than painting and putting it in racks, hoping somebody would buy them.
'Artists are always misunderstood—or something like that,' she thought wryly to herself. She accidentally spilt some oil paint on her finger and she stood up, walking to the sink and pouring some kerosene on the infected finger, washing it after with water.
Footsteps echoed from the second floor of the apartment and Sango appeared, smiling at her. "Need some help?" Kagome shook her head, smiling at Sango. Sango merely shrugged, packing her own things. Thirty minutes before classes start. It was no sweat for them because of the fact that they live almost next to the University.
"Our Prof is absent so some Junior prodigy is taking over," Kagome informed Sango, looking at her and asking, "bout you?" Sango thought for a moment.
"Uh, we're gonna experiment on some dead parts of humans." Sango grinned as Kagome paled, a camel hair brush clattering to the floor. "Joke, joke, joke," Sango grinned again even though Kagome was glaring at her.
"Whatever Sango," Kagome rolled her eyes, before smiling at her friends. "For all I know, you just want to faint and fall in the arms of a guy." Sango's face changed into a shade of bright red. Kagome mocked a thoughtful look and said, "Let me be more specific, f & f in the arms of Miroku." Kagome laughed out loud as Sango threw a throw pillow at her, smacking on face.
"Anyways, Kag, I'll be home around five-thirty so I'll cook dinner," Sango informed her. Kagome smiled.
"Okay," she said, waving to Sango and walking to the University.
She sighed, looking at her surroundings. She surely missed her home. Her childhood home she was forced to leave to heal a broken heart. Cliché, isn't it? But clichés come from things that are overused—always there and timeless. Kagome fingered the strap of her back pack, thinking of the many moments she had shared with Inu Yasha.
Up until now, she couldn't pinpoint what went wrong. It was right in front of her, it was the only thing that made them an imperfect couple.
It was none other than her bloody-bitch of a cousin, Kikyo.
Her eyes looked glassy from the impending tears and anger. Be clam. Inhale… exhale… inhale…exhale…
'Kagome you can do this," she thought to herself, sparking inspiration to continue on towards the university.
Maybe they'll have some free time.
Maybe that junior would lay off her and she could get some projects done.
Maybe she'll have a blast and it turns out the guy's a hunk and ask her out on a date.
She mentally giggled. Fat chance in that
"I really don't care," she said to herself, bumping on a person again and apologized, only to find out it was Miroku who was grinning at her mischievously.
"Why it's you, Kagome-chan!" He said gladly and helping Kagome out in pushing her bag inside her locker.
"Hello, Miroku," she greeted him back. He merely smiled, closing her locker for her.
"You're on your way to Fine Arts, right? Me too, may I say this is a nice coincidence to escort a wonderful girl like yourself to class?" Miroku offered, making her almost laugh and smack him.
She rolled her eyes at him. "Fine, Miroku. Just give me your word you'll keep your hands to yourself." She said, eyeing him in a mock suspicious way and holding a finger a him.
He nodded his head and they walked towards class. They were greeted by the surprising silence of the whole class. Miroku raised an eyebrow. "Odd, this class is never quiet when a prof is still not here. More when it's five minutes before class and even if Prof's present."
A quick look at the guy looking the class over in his position, leaning back on the whiteboard vanished his curiosity. Kagome looked at Miroku and the man, confused. Apparently, this student has the power to control the class and it appears as if… they were… afraid.
Miroku was glaring at him. The man returned the glare and looked at Kagome, saying nothing and ignoring her once more. Kagome did not really care. Why would she?
She sat beside Miroku but the man intercepted. "Tell me," he began, looking up her name and continuing, "Higurashi, Kagome, what medium will you be using?" He asked commandingly.
"Oil painting," she answered. The man looked over at the Miroku.
"And you… Makimoto? Water color perhaps?" He said with a somewhat sneer.
"As always," Miroku replied coldly, taking Kagome aback. The man arched a brow pointing to the corner where most students were using oil painting.
"Higurashi, that is the corner for the medium of Oil painting. Makimoto, on the farther corner there," he said in a clear, emotionless voice. Kagome merely nodded and walked to the corner quietly, setting up her easel. She put her canvas and for a moment, stopped to look around the room for inspiration.
Sesshoumaru noticed this and approached her. "Higurashi, do not wait for divine intervention. If you will paint anything from this classroom, I assure you, you will not finish your job the way you had begun it. It will not be the expected picture ad it will look like some pirated painting. Every single hour, these four walls change its color, its lighting and everything in it." Kagome looked around, confused.
She could not see what the man was describing. "Changes color? What is this place, a chameleon-based class? How can it change its color?" She asked, completely confused. Sesshoumaru pointed at the blackboard.
"What colors do you see, Higurashi?" Kagome blinked, not knowing what this is pointing to.
"Green," she said in a voice that said, 'obviously'. The silver-haired man looked disapproving.
"Let me see your oil paint," she handed to him her box of paints and he put in the easel paint holder the following: black, turquoise, light green and yellow. She looked at the blackboard. There was not a trace of black, turquoise or yellow. And the blackboard was not the shade of light green.
"There are no colors like that on the blackboard," she said plainly. The silver-haired angel shook his head.
"That is because you only extend your vision up to those you see obviously. You are blind of what's in front of you, it is actually what you think or you believe or you expect to see. An image inside your mind that fogs up everything around you. Clear the fog before you try to see, Higurashi." With that, he rose from his seat and went back to his place on the blackboard.
Kagome blinked several times. Draw what you see, not what you think you see… It was more complicated than it seems. Everyone around her seemed to understand the man's language. Except for her. When the light touched half of the blackboard, she saw it. The black shadow of the black board, the light green with a slight touch of yellow, it all fitted perfectly. She looked at the silver-haired man that inclined his head. He knew she now sees.
She raised her left arm, dipped her brush and rolled it, dipping it on some linseed oil and started to paint. In an hour, she has finished half of the painting. Sesshoumaru has ordered the others to put their paintings on the rectangular table that was long enough to fit every single painting left to dry on the sun. He sauntered to her and looked at her painting.
"Impressive, Higurashi. Now you see, remember what I said," he whispered to her ear, tickling it. Kagome blushed subconsciously.
"Thank you," she said gratefully and matched it with a smile. "For making me see."
Sesshoumaru let the corners of his lips rise a bit in a slight smile, lighting his golden eyes.
You see? We must all try to see beyond what we expect is there… We always expect and seldom really see.
Kagome thought about the odd substitute or student teacher she had just a while ago. He seemed like a pro, but Miroku and almost everybody looked as if they all wanted to tear him off.
Which she thought weird for Miroku did not look the hating time despite the circumstances that were showing themselves.
Whatever, she thought with a shrug. She will not be bothered by these thoughts for she doesn't have time for this. Although she thought of this, she couldn't help being curious and reminding herself to ask Miroku who the guy was and possibly why they all hated him in one way or another.
It was not a simple case of jealousy that was always the case in dramas her friends often told her about when she was near the point of breaking up with Inu Yasha.
Arrgh, she cursed under her breath. Did she not make an oath never to think about him again? Or anything that concerned him for that matter?For example, martial arts like Kendo or Judo or whatever he always trained for. Or history he seemed to fascinated about. Or playing the Violin he has recently taken to liking.
She shook her head vigorously. No, she will stop now. She cannot go driving back in memory lane. She just couldn't...
She sighed, taking a deep breath and counting one to ten. She walked towards her next class, not even bothering to get her books and other materials from her locker. She headed straight on, ignoring the bumps she got from other 'stupidents' scurrying around.
'Do not draw what you expect to see, but what you really see...' It sounded somewhat familiar to her ears, but she couldn't pinpoint it...
Whom did she hear it from besides him? She honestly couldn't remember. She sat down on one of the chairs only to stand up and blush when she accidentally seated herself on somebody else's chair.
Kagome now smacked her head when she finally remembered her books and hurried towards her locker, but a long arm blocked her passage.
She raised her head and made eye contact with the golden-eyed man who was smirking at her.
"If you try to get your books now, you'll be late. Do not think the Professor will be very forgiving," he said unemotionally. She lowered her head, faced flushed and nodded.
"Okay," she murmured uneasily and the guy left her there, looking like a total dork until she remembered to sit down herself.
Things were not going smoothly today. Of course, it was unlucky Tuesday for her.
It must be the reason. But if she was so unlucky...
Why was there an angel guiding her everywhere today?
Well, at least for her he seemed like an angel…
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Sesshoumaru felt oddly compelled to guide Higurashi, Kagome today. Even though he only knew her because he substituted for their Fine Arts teacher, he put into himself to guide her.
'I don't know, she just looks to fragile,' he thought to himself, confused as ever.
He has never experience this before. Ever. Why was he feeling this odd sensation that was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't really say it.
There were a dozen of whys in his head, not a single one was answered. He just felt… light-hearted towards Kagome.
End of Chapter.
TBC
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Short, I know. But still, full, don't you think? Very informative too. ^_^ I just put the stuff I knew and then let my mind flow and my hands type out the story. I'm beginning to like the progress, though I must do some furnishing and do some bit of re-decorating on the story. I don't wanna include Inu Yasha yet or Kikyo or anyone bad on that matter.
Soooo… those artists there, kindly help me out here, I'm gonna loose every single thing I know if I can't be informed. I'm gonna do some researching about this but I still have a lot of things to do this whole Year End. So sorry. If there are grammatical errors, kindly point them out, puhleeze??? I'm trying to edit this by myself coz I don't wanna bother my other betas. We all have our own responsibilities and chores. I don't wanna be a burden. Also, I can't update next week coz I'll have my entrance exams for High School. So it actually depends what my grade will be on my report card for the reeving of report cards is tomorrow so I have to pray for high grades and divine intervention. If I don't pass the standards of my mom, I won't be using the computer for a real long while.
Please remember, Review!!!