Good day, readers
I apologize for the delay on chapter updating. Summer is finally here, so I will be updating like wildfire. I've decided my update date to be on WEDNESDAY or FRIDAY. If I feel like updating early than Wednesday, if not Friday. If not ever, then something has gone terribly wrong.
Before I move on with the story, I'd like to thank Victoria62015 for the first review. I am so grateful and hopefully I will keep you curious until the end. Also, thanks to Melody Syper Carston as well for the review.
Thank you PhantomKino for betaing me!
Also, I'm completely open to critical reviews and/or suggestions. I get a lot of inspiration from music, so musical requests are always welcome as well. I know there are many artists out there and art is greatly appreciated.
Disclaimer: I do not own this anime, nor characters except my own OC.
Italian translation: I'm bored of keeping disciplined. (From the song Frostbite by Oh Land)
Rest of translations below
Chapter 2: Sono annoiato di mantenere disciplinato.
"Ho una proposta."
"And what does this proposition entail?"
"Oh, just some innocent painting and a bit of harsh giochi di parole."
"Mm, what a tempting proposition, tosoro, but I must say no," Hikaru whispered, his lips turning down into a frown. He wasn't much for games; not without Kaoru, anyway. "I'm afraid I have other business to attend to."
Hikaru stared at the young woman before him. She was petite, black- haired, and... blessed by the gods. He reluctantly shifted his eyes from her body and focused them on the painting splattered onto the wall, contrasting with the bland, white color of the wall behind it. It wasn't much to look at, but it would suffice until he was ready to venture into the crowd of people behind him. He heard the clatter of the young woman's heels as she left his side. He could imagine the frustrated and disappointed look upon her face as she stalked away, hating his lack of attention. He continued to stare at the picture longingly, realizing that the strokes of red and dots of orange reminded him of a certain sibling. . .
"I didn't know you liked paintings of such . . . espressione forte," commented a suave, familiar voice from behind him. He smiled, rolled his eyes and spun on the balls of his feet to face his guest.
"Then you mustn't know me at all, Annata."
Annata laughed, her dark skin radiant in the cast of of the light from the windows above her. She pursed her full lips into a grand smile and laughed. It was a magnificent sound, the only one that Hikaru relished in anymore. She traced her slender fingers down hiss jaw line, trailing her fingers with her eyes.
"Gattino, I know you better than you know yourself." She flashed a coy smile and dropped her gloved hand. Hikaru grimaced with the loss of the soft silk on his face. Annata turned toward the painting propped on the wall, placing her hands in a crossed position as if in deep thought. She stared at the painting for a few moments while Hikaru admired her profile.
"The more you stare at me, the less interesting I'll become," she whispered gently, keeping her eyes on the painting. Hikaru smiled, ready for her next string of words.
"Really? Care to explain?"
"It's like a painting, the more you try to memorize every line of paint, the more tedious the task becomes. And by the looks of it. . ." she paused turning her head slightly toward Hikaru so he could see the playful glint in her eyes. "I'd say these boring, painted lines need some bellezza moderna."
Hikaru smirked, a cynic sparkle resonating on his parted lips. He reached an arm out to Annata, and she anxiously took it, intertwining their arms and hands. They turned toward the crowd together. Hikaru brought his lips close to Annata's ear and whispered, "Let's show these critics some of our own bellezza moderna."
With that, Hikaru pulled Annata into the crowd of spectators, and they began their journey to the front of the museum. They walked steadily, but with purpose through the maze of people. Hikaru's eyes gleamed with anticipation, the excitement of the situation escalating with every step. They finally reached the gates of the entrance and dropped their arms. Annata looked up at Hikaru, and Hikaru smiled at the anxious gleam in her eyes. Annata smirked and pressed a tender kiss to Hikaru's cheeks.
"Tu sei la bellezza moderna," she muttered, before disappearing into the crowd of people once more.
Hikaru sighed happily before tousling his hair a bit. He climbed onto the railing of the gate and sat comfortably atop it. He crossed his legs carefully, trying desperately to keep his balance. Once he was sure of his balance, he cupped his hands over the sides of his mouth and yelled, "Potrei avere la vostra attenzione?"
The mass of people continued to chatter away, so he screamed a second time much louder. "Potrei avere la vostra attenzione! Can I please have your attention!" After yelling for a few more times, the noise coming from the spectators subsided. All eyes were on Hikaru.
Hikaru smiled, a sickly sweet stretch of his lips. Soft murmurs and confused eyes pushed toward him, but he brushed them off, his adrenaline rush keeping him calm. He examined the crowd, spotting the seven familiar heads in the crowd—six were his own and one he had to impress.
"Buon Pomeriggio e benvenuti!" he began, yelling each word with enthusiasm. "Benvenuti to the unveiling of new, contemporary artist at the Museo Nazionale di Spina in Ferrara, Italy. I must say the event has turned out marvelously! We must give a round of applause for Signore Biagio Addamo, the coordinator of this glorious occasion." Hikaru clapped his hands together several times, while staring straight into the apprehensive eyes of Biagio. The crowd was a bit hesitant at first, but proceeded to cheer and clap their hands for Biagio. Biago smiled then, giving a knowing wink to Hikaru.
Hikaru smiled slyly and coughed loudly to receive the attention of the crowd once more. "Signore Biagio, you are an inspiration to us all." Hikaru continued, steadying himself on the gate. "If I only I could've planned something as magnificent; although, if I were planning it, the art would be a bit more. . . hm, how do I put this?" Hikaru flashed a vain smirk and faked confusion. "The art would just. . . be better. I suppose the art I would exhibit would be more beautiful, more modern." Hikaru climbed down from the railing, landing on his feet like a cat. He stood before his audience with his head held higher than the rest, even though the tension in the room had elevated from his earlier comments.
He paced slowly, taking leisurely steps as if he actually needed to contemplate his words. The only sounds in the room were the clicking of his feet on the floor and the nervous breaths he took. The clicking of his heels stopped as he ceased his pacing and looked into the crowd of people. His eyes wandered the until he reached Biagio with a glittering glare. His lips turned upwards into a cunning grin as he slipped his hands into his pockets.
"You see, Biagio, the art here is nothing. Nothing compared to the rich themes and colors of the world today. Please, let us take our eyes off of your boring fantasies and place them unto my own realistic world." Hikaru paused, slipping his hands out of his pockets and crossing his fingers. He ran his eyes across the crowd once more, and found six other crossed fingers.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, turn your heads around, for something new awaits you. Tu sei la bellezza moderna."
The men and woman in the crowd turned their bodies around, their eyes searching for art. Astonished sighs sounded from the people as they found themselves in the presence of newly- hung portraits and canvases. The dull tans and browns if the museum's walls were covered in colors that hadn't touched the light of the earth until that day.
And then the cheering began. Loud whooping and excited cries escaped from the lips of the many Italians. Hikaru saw that they believed this was a part of the show; he let them.
"You are quite clever, Hikaru."
Hikaru turned his attention to the owner of the deep voice and caught the eye of Biagio once more. He was smirking mischievously with his eyebrows arched to perfection. Then Hikaru remembered where he was. What he was doing. And who he was. He frowned sadly, realization overcoming him. Hikaru wasn't much for games.
Not without Kaoru anyway.
"That was quite a magnificent and risky move."
"Only to satisfy your taste."
"Hm, touché."
"I thought Italians weren't fond of the French," Hikaru stated blandly, tracing lines of paint with his eyes as he stared at the canvas before him.
Biagio chuckled. "We're not. Doesn't mean we can't use a little common phrasing."
"I guess," Hikaru replied, keeping his eyes on the painting.
Biagio sighed, ignoring Hikaru's lack of attention. "You managed to expel all of my art from my museum and replace it with your own in a matter of minutes. You, Signore, arestraordinario."
"Grazie mille, Signore," Hikaru whispered, finally turning his attention to Biagio. "I am so honored to have impressed you." Hikaru smiled, shooting Biagio a sweet look.
"Oh, I am honored to be in the presence of such an astounding artist. Your work is amazing." Biagio changed his attention to the painting in front of them. "I especially like this one." "The use of the pastel here is magnificent. I dettagli sono molto profonde. Your detail outweighs some of the paintings I've seen in Florence."
Biagio lifted a hand and brought his fingers to the edge of the canvas, daring to touch it. "He looks identical to you. How did you manage such a perfect self-portrait in pastel?"
Hikaru stared at the painting once more, bedazzled by his own work. He brought his fingers to the painting and enjoyed the feel of the smooth, dry pastel. He smiled sadly, the massive hole in his stomach growing with each glance at the painting.
"It's not me. E 'mio fratello. It's my brother." Hikaru whispered, his voice barely audible over the buzz of the many people circling around them.
Biagio observed the young man's sad features. His lips were turned down in a melancholic frown, and his eyes poured out a longing stare. Biagio tightened, figuring this sudden sadness had something to do with his brother. He placed a hand on Hikaru shoulder.
"I want you on my team, Hikaru. You really impressed me. Tell your associates to call me." Biagio paused, not sure of what to do next. He wasn't sure if Hikaru had heard him.
"I'll take care of this, Biagio." Annata whispered, walking up toards them. "I'll make sure Hikaru calls, and if he doesn't, you'll be hearing from me. Arrivederci, Biagio."
Biagio looked once more at Hikaru, and then gave a grateful smile to Annata. "Grazie, Annata. Congedo."
Annata turned to Hikaru as Biagio's steps could no longer be heard. She placed a hesitant hand on Hikaru's back and began slowly tracing patterns.
"You should talk to him."
Hikaru sighed softly and lifted his eyes to Annata. Annata's breath caught in her throat as she saw the tears welling in his eyes. He smiled a little and chuckled, his lips not matching his eyes. "Ha! Talking is for those who keep relationships, tosoro. Unfortunately, I am not one of them."
"Relationships can always be rebuilt."
"Maybe here, they can. Apparently, you haven't see the amazing progress I've had back home with relationships." Hikaru spat, turning his attention back to the picture.
"Sarcasm is for the ill-willed e stupido." Annata replied with equal harshness, dropping her hand from Hikaru's back.
Hikaru lifted his eyes once more to Annata's and matched her fierce glare. He smirked and lifted his fingers to her chin. He slanted her face so she on the same sight level as he was. He leaned into her, still smirking.
"'Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise,'" he muttered sarcastically, his eyes on the edge of tears. Annata held his stare and saw his soul utterly breaking inside. Annata sighed, allowing Hikaru to keep his hand on her chin. She leaned her body in closer, taking both of her hands and pushing her body towards his, her lips resting inches away from his ear. She whispered softly and sweetly, just a few simple words.
"Your words are like fog, Hikaru. They make you hard to see."
"Would an apology be enough?"
"Certo che no! Guardate quello che ho fatto. Look what I've done."
"Anger surrounds me, even my friends."
"Cosa devo fare?" Hikaru quietly contemplated to himself. He walked alone down one of the many streets in Ferrera, talking to himself. He felt foolish speaking of such personal things out loud, but his frustration was becoming too much. Annata was always right about him, whether he wanted to admit it or not.
It was late. He had not left the museum until all the spectators had left. He stood alone and stared at his painting of Kaoru for several moments. He was reluctant to shed tears, but dared himself to try. He hadn't shed tears in some time. Hikaru didn't cry often. The realization that he almost cried over Kaoru caused him to understand how drastically important his brother was to him. Although he knew they would have to eventually spend time apart, he didn't think it would end up like it did. They hadn't spoken for a long two years, and they hadn't drowned in each other's embrace for three.
Hikaru wasn't necessarily religious, but he had faith in the universe. He had faith that something earthly or maybe even unearthly would bring his brother back to him. He never liked the idea of possessing Kaoru or tying him down with their brotherhood, but he knew they were connected. It might have been their undeniable differences that brought them closer or their drastic similarities, but Hikaru knew they were binded to one another in spirit and mind. He never believed in things of supernatural origin, although he knew he and his brother were one and the same. They were identical, in almost every way.
Hikaru was broken from his thoughts and whispers when he heard faint footsteps coming toward him. He didn't think much of it; probably just another person out as late as he. He was just as guilty as the other guy. He continued walking, but refrained from speaking to himself. It was a long while until the footsteps became eerily close to Hikaru's own.
He walked a bit faster.
Hikaru turned his head but saw nothing. No one coming around the corner. No shadows to indicate another person was near. Just footsteps. Footsteps that fell to the rhythm of his own. Footsteps that got no louder nor softer with the briskness of the walk.
His walk turned into a vigorous pace.
Hikaru turned a corner and turned his head again. No shadow. He noticed his assailant's footsteps had subsided. That didn't mean Hikaru slowed down. He was going into a panic, but he laughed it off, thinking himself crazed.
"Hikaru. . ." whispered a voice, dissonantly close to his ear. He knew that voice. It was such a familiar voice.
He began to run.
That voice never sounded that cynic. He sprinted along the sidewalks, ignoring the voice which seemed to have multiplied into many voices. He was only a few blocks from his flat; this did nothing to calm him. He continued to run, never looking back.
"Hikaru, stop!"
And he did. Not because he wanted too. Not because he needed too. But because he was forced too.
The voices subsided then, leaving only a flashing streetlight and beautiful architecture that seemed suddenly incredibly disturbing. Hikaru's eyes were stuck open; he couldn't bring himself to blink. He felt frozen in place. Even his willful force to free himself seemed to have disappeared. He was alone. Trapped and alone.
He felt a slight tickling sensation at the base of his neck, like a fly landing on skin. But it wasn't a fly, nor a bug. No, it was the tip of something's fingers. He could feel it. Skin on skin. That one finger turned into many, crawling up and down his neck. Circling around to his front. He felt the hand trickle down to his chest, its palm floating across his stomach.
Even in all his panic, he couldn't help but like how it felt.
But then it grabbed. Squeezing around him, holding his body in a tight embrace. His back was pressed against something. Someone. He tried desperately to scream, but even his lips were stuck in an utter shocked expression. He felt the thing shift in position, and the sudden warm sensation of breath caused his body to shiver.
It giggled at his reaction, and Hikaru's heart rate accelerated. It was a nasty sound, completely inhuman. Unrecognizable. Its body pressed against his, causing him to topple over, out of his frozen trance. But thing's embrace did not go away. It stayed. And so did its breath on his ear.
"Come to me, Hikaru. I am lost."
Kaoru's voice whispered, sickly sweet and mockingly sarcastic.
A/N: Here is quotes/Italian translation/ places
There won't be as many translations next time. Promise.
I'll try to put the translations in English after the person says it just to help. I did it for some of the longer translations in the story.
Ho una proposta- I have a proposition
Giochi di parole-Wordplay
Tosoro- Darling(I'll be using this quite often)
Espressione forte- Loud expression
Gattino- kitten (this is actually a pet name my best friend uses to call me)
Bellezza moderna- Modern Beauty (It's sort of Hikaru's moto for his art)
Tu sei la bellezza moderna- You are the modern beauty (Also moto)
Potrei avere la vostra attenzione- Can I please have your attention?
Buon Pomeriggio e benvenuti- Good aftertoon and Welcome
I dettagli sono molto profonde- The details are very profound/ good
E 'mio fratello- It's my brother
Grazie- Thank you
Congedo- Farewell
E stupido- I don't think you need my help on this one :)
Certo che no! - Of course not
Guardate quello che ho fatto- Look what I've done?
Cosa devo fare- What should I do?
Museo Nazionale di Spina in Ferrara, Italy- This is an actual museum in Ferrera, Italy. Very nice and quaint.
"Where ignorance is bliss,'Tis folly to be wise."- A quote from An Ode On A Distant Prospect of Eton College by Thomas Gray
Thanks for reading, sorry for the long A/N. This'll be my longest. The rest will be short and sweet
Until next time,
Ona