A/N: I've got to write some more with Kei because he's such an interesting character to play with.
Disclaimer: Just for fun.
The sheen of gold evoked by the paints, aged and still so vibrant, held his gaze for a long while. The artist had shown remarkable skill—the gentle texture of strokes, the play of shadow and glints of light, the perspective—but he could feel underneath the surface the writhing pain of magic left unattended.
Gingerly he ran two fingertips over the gilt frame, listening to the buried voice of misery behind the painting.
He had no responsibility to recover the work, not when it had been created by a mere imitator of the Hikari. His hand slipped away and he looked up at the towering canvas, its scene of secrets only half hidden by the dark, an echo of the danger waiting behind the physical expression.
He had avoided Kei Hiwatari for some while, knowing that the order would come without remorse: destruction, efficient and without delay.
Releasing a faint sigh, he turned from the artwork.
"It's incredible."
He drew up short and stared at the girl who had appeared behind him out of nowhere. Harada-san lowered her gaze from the painting and smiled at him, unaware of how she had taken him entirely by surprise, then she stepped past him to get a closer look at the painting.
"Isn't it amazing?" she said, her eyes shining as she looked over the new exhibit.
He stared at her for a moment, then looked up at the painting again. A little breath of a laugh left him, a surrender to the inevitable. "Yes," he agreed, then he turned away again to leave. He only had so much time before he could not save it after all.