There were days Daisuke simply wished to disappear. There was no specific reason. He had no complaints with his life. It was simply some mornings he woke and wondered if it wasn't all some big dream. He loved his wife, loved his son, loved his work, but something was missing.
There was nothing he could do. When the feeling threatened to overwhelm him he locked himself away and painted. He rarely showed the creations from those frenzied times to his family. Riku softly asked about them and when he brushed her off with a lame excuse had given up.
He had almost thrown them away, but something prevented them. Instead he made them into a makeshift book. Paper, not canvas, his medium for those times. Afterwards he painted the tranquil scenes that sold, bringing in income to feed his family.
"Daisuke, it's suppertime."
Daisuke looked up. Riku stood in the doorway. Absently he brushed his hand across his face. Riku smiled at the smudge he left behind. "I'll be there in a moment. Just give me a moment."
"Sure hon." Riku turned to go. Daisuke stared at the now empty doorway for a long time before turning back to his canvas.
Black wings.
White wings.
Disappear.
"Daddy, Daddy!"
"Daiki, don't interrupt your father."
Daisuke set his brush down and went to see his son. When he looked at his family he sometimes saw colors. Daiki was vibrant, a streak of brilliant sunset red, his hair the same shade as his mother's. Riku a more muted shade of mauve, gentled down by the years she had gained. His mother a yellow. His father blue. But when he looked at the mirror he couldn't imagine what his color was. It simply wasn't there.
Missing.
He ran into Satoshi again at one of his art exhibits. He looked at Satoshi and all he saw was black. Just like Dark's wings. Deep, beautiful ebony.
How? How could he have a color when Daisuke couldn't find one in himself?
He smiled, talked, laughed, his normal self. Satoshi didn't look at him much, accepting his gift with reluctance. That didn't bother Daisuke. He'd always been rather uncomfortable under Satoshi's scrutiny.
How had he managed to acquire Dark's color?
He didn't want to leave, to lose contact, so Daisuke gave Satoshi a business card and a trite invitation to dinner.
At home he buried himself in his painting. Black wings, white wings. The colors mixed together. Grey wings. He waited for the phone to ring, waited to get his answer.
"Daisuke, there's someone on the phone for you."
Daisuke hurried, full of anticipation.
"Mr. Niwa, my client wishes to commission a painting."
Life went on, same as always. Daisuke painted, played with Daiki, fell asleep with Riku. Dreamed of endless black. Prepared for his next showing.
"How long are you going to be gone this time Daddy?"
"Just a couple days Daiki, not long at all." Daisuke ruffled the boy's hair playfully.
"Can I come with you?"
"Maybe next time."
"And Mom too?"
"Sure."
The phone rang.
"Niwa."
"Satoshi?"
Silence.
"I shouldn't have called."
"Don't say that. I'm glad you did." Daisuke tried to think of something to say, something that would keep Satoshi from hanging up. "I'd invite you over but I'm leaving tomorrow. I have another exhibit. Maybe you could come over when I get back."
"Where?"
"Pardon me?"
"Your exhibit."
Daisuke told him.
"I'll see you there." Satoshi hung up.
"Who was that Daddy?"
Daisuke smiled at Daiki. "Just an old friend Daiki."
He packed his book of paintings, hiding them under a layer of clothes.