Shining Acrylic
Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation or any of its characters.
Author's Notes: Sorry it took so long to update. Please excuse my ignorance of Japanese Buddhism and culture. Doh. This chapter came out all wrong. I had a plan, and I just didn't follow it.
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Kyoto. Finally, he was here, in the city where Tatsuha Uesagi lived. It had taken a few favors to some of his favorite people to find the city and address, but nothing overly difficult. In fact, it was extremely lucky that they could find Tatsuha Uesagi so quickly, because Ryuichi had been dying to meet him ever since Monday, nearly a week ago, when he first saw Tatsuha's painting.
Standing outside the grounds, Ryuichi nervously pulled the edge of his baseball cap down. It seemed almost crude to enter such a traditional looking temple in faded blue jeans, and a plain, white t-shirt. Unfortunately, Shuichi's warning played in the back of his mind, reminding him to keep a low-profile. Even Kumagoro had been left at home for safety. Ryuichi bit his lip. Kumagoro would have talked him through this, reassuring him that it was all right to look as he did, and that Uesagi- san, the artist of such a wonderful painting, could be nothing but cool.
How long had it been since he'd stepped foot inside a temple? If Tatsuha lived in a temple that had to mean he was a monk. Ryuichi frowned, trying to remember whether or not that was the rule. Only monks could live inside a temple? Questions were merely a distraction and Ryuichi knew it. For a second time, he wished Kumagoro could have come. For Kumagoro, he would have to be confident.
Ryuichi entered the temple grounds. No longer shielded by the high, stone chiseled walls, the beauty of the gardens hit him by surprise. There were many varieties of trees, their leaves ranging in color from bubblegum pink, to crimson red. "Pretty," he breathed, quietly taking in the picture before him. Ryuichi watched as a slight wind stirred one of the Sakura trees, carrying pink buds through the air to settle onto a grey, stone path. The soft rustle of leaves reminded him of a gentle ballad.
Inspiration. A soft smile found its way to the singer's lips. He walked up the path, stepping over the elegant, pink carpet of petals, the color of Kumagoro. To the side, a rock garden became visible, but the light colors brought little interest.
Ryuichi stepped up onto a platform, his sneaker softly hitting the solid wood. On a quick inspection of his surroundings, Ryuichi guessed this was where you were supposed to pray. There were dark colored mats to kneel on, and so he kneeled, pressing his fingers and palms together in a long forgotten action. It felt strange. He peeked up at the statue in front of him, wondering what people normally said in prayer. "May I please find Tatsuha-kun soon..." Ryuichi's eyes fell closed, the crease in his brow the only evidence of his deep thought. During a struggle to remember proper prayer, song lyrics filled Ryuichi's consciousness, distracting him from his pure intent.
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Tatsuha stretched his arms behind his neck, as he paced slowly down the dull wooden floor. His eyes were glued to the ceiling, a slight frown marring his features. Funerals were so fucking boring. Two in a row had completely killed his day. Tatsuha congratulated himself on yet another evil pun. Now, at least he could relax a little.
He unclasped his hands, reaching into his tunic for a cigarette. Someone was up ahead, praying. He could see that much. From a distance, the guy actually looked young. Maybe he was unfaithful to his girlfriend or some shit. Kyoto. Ever the uptight city.
Tatsuha strolled up quietly, lighting his cigarette from the orange flame of one of the prayer candles. He planned on passing right through, yet the young man, only a few feet from him, caught his interest. Who the hell prayed that hard? The guy hadn't even moved. Tatsuha took a drag from his cigarette, bending down a little to try to see his face. The fucking hat didn't allow for it. "Yo," Tatsuha nudged him with his foot. "If you're going to sleep, get out. It's disrespectful." Tatsuha smirked at his own authoritative voice. He was so good at this act that even his father believed it at times.
Tatsuha put out his cigarette as the other man stood up. What a shrimp. He was about the size of Shuichi. Okay, lamenting murderer was crossed off the list for this guy. He wasn't bad looking though, from what Tatsuha could see, though the hat still hid his face in shadow.
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Ryuichi grasped the edge of his blue cap, straightening it from a sense of apprehension. Instantly, he wondered if all monks were this rude. Ryuichi honestly couldn't remember. He hadn't been sleeping. He'd been lost in thought, musing over mismatched lyrics. The monk was lucky Ryuichi didn't bit him or something, for breaking his concentration. Kumagoro would have done it, and Kumagoro was a lot nicer than him.
At least, now, he had someone to ask about Tatsuha. "Ano, I'm very sorry. I was looking for Tatsuha Uesagi-san," he said, speaking cheerfully.
The person in front of him, though tall, with a deep voice, seemed to be young, maybe even younger than himself. Ryuichi took a minute to look him over. He was wearing those funny monk clothes, but his head wasn't shaved. He had beautiful black hair, that looked shiny and soft, with equally dark eyes to match it. Perhaps for the first time, Ryuichi found interest in something that lacked color. For a monk, he was really good looking. Ryuichi wanted to beat himself over the head the instant he thought it. He was totally screwing this up! First,instead of praying, he'd been composing song lyrics, and now he was lusting over some monk. Well, not lusting, but it came close enough.
Ryuichi watched as Tatsuha's eyes narrowed in suspicion. The young man paced to his right casually, but the angle didn't allow him to see Ryuichi's face any better. Ryuichi was simply unrecognizable, given the unlikely situation.
"Why would you be looking for Tatsuha Uesagi?" he asked finally, interest lighting his dark eyes.
There couldn't be that many monks this young. Usually Grasper fans were younger, Ryuichi thought to himself, stepping backward. "Well, I'm a really big fan of his paintings and-"
"You're a what?" The monk cut him off, and began to laugh. It wasn't the light, friendly laughter, Ryuichi was used to. It was deeper, like a bass. In spite of the borderline mockery behind the monk's tone of voice, his laughter sounded nice. At least it wasn't fake, forced out of kindness.
"Okay... this is a new one," Tatsuha said, wiping tears from his eyes, as he disrupted Ryuichi's thoughts. "Where did you see my art anyway? It's not like I'm advertising my hobby."
"...You're..."
"Hm?" Tatsuha perked up, looking back at his "fan".
"You're Tatsuha Uesagi?" Ryuichi breathed, looking directly at him. For the first time, Tatsuha caught a clear glimpse of the deep blue eyes hidden underneath the unflattering baseball cap. It shocked him.
Ryuichi smiled up at him, with a joy most adults his age had long forgotten. "I saw your painting of the last Nittle Grasper concert! It really inspired me, na no da!" Ryuichi wanted to add that it inspired Kumagoro too. He chewed on his bottom lip, thinking it over. Tatsuha seemed like a nice guy. Maybe Shuichi was overreacting when he mentioned kidnapping. Still, Ryuichi's nose wrinkled as he thought, he didn't want Tatsuha to start treating him like superstar Ryuichi Sakuma. He was already stocked up on fake friends as it was. It was better to keep his identity a secret.
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Ryuichi Sakuma. Ryuichi Sakuma. Ryuichi Sakuma. There was no fucking way this guy was not Ryuichi. Tatsuha's fingers twitched. More than anything, he wanted grab that baseball cap, and throw it away, so he could gaze lovingly into his honey's eyes. So pretty. Tatsuha didn't even notice that drool was beginning to form on the side of his mouth. Ryuichi Sakuma admired his crappy painting! That piece of shit he gave Touma. He'd traveled all the way to Kyoto, for him, for... some reason. Tatsuha, snapping out of his daze, looked over Sakuma-san's clothing again. From the looks of things, Ryuichi didn't want to be recognized. Maybe he was afraid of fans kidnapping him... molesting him... that sort of thing. Who would do something so terrible?
Tatsuha smiled. "So, you must work with Touma or something?" he asked, casually, to Ryuichi.
"Well, I work with NG," Ryuichi answered vaguely. "Your painting is on one of the walls there. The first day I saw it, K said I looked at it for a whole hour! It felt like minutes though. The colors are so shiny against the black, like a broken rainbow over a dark sky."
A whatta? Tatsuha resisted the urge to laugh. Interesting description. Considering that rainbows were sunlight, broken into many different colors, how could a rainbow appear in a dark sky? How could a rainbow be broken? Tatsuha smiled, amused by Ryuichi. He had poetic license. Perhaps the impossibility of Ryuichi's description made it all the more special. "Thanks... I think."
"You don't like rainbows, Tatsuha-kun?" Ryuichi asked, surprised.
"No, no, I love rainbows," Tatsuha insisted, grinning.
"I came to ask you if maybe you could do a painting for me, like the one you painted for Touma."
Tatsuha stared at Ryuichi. This was unreal. How could he replicate that crap? Why did Sakuma-san even like it? "Sure," he responded, almost automatically, "but I have better paintings I could give you. Backgrounds aren't really my thing," Tatsuha explained, gesturing vaguely with his hand.
"I'd like to look at them, but I want one like Touma has," Ryuichi explained, bouncing with excitement. "I really like your style Tatsuha-kun. I feel like you paint with your heart, na no da. That concert meant a lot to me, and seeing your painting of it brings back memories," Ryuichi explained, a faint blush staining his cheeks.
Tatsuha watched, waiting for Ryuichi's next words. Just the look in his eyes spoke so much. Ryuichi's eyes shined a dark, glittery blue, so different from the clear perfection he saw on stage. In that moment, Ryuichi had become a human being, just like Touma. A fallen god.
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There were so many things he wanted to say, but every time he opened his mouth, the words refused to come. Maybe he'd been hoping for too much. Ryuichi took off his hat, running his fingers through fine strands of hair. At the moment, he could care less if Tatsuha recognized him. Tatsuha couldn't have created that painting unless he understood.
"Tatsuha-kun?" he asked, his voice floating softly, "... Do you think Nittle Grasper is finished? I look at your painting, and I see all my happiness and work crammed into a single frame. I see it, like a memory. We just keep fading, and fading, and fading, like falling stars."
Tatsuha frowned, silently pondering over Ryuichi's words. "Stars don't fade Sakuma-san. They burn out... You didn't burn out at the last concert. You exploded."
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To be continued...