The blind artist
Title: The blind artist
Chapter: 1/1
Author: kiroyo
Genre: Romance
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I own this page of lies.
Rating: G
Pairing: Kai x Reita
Synopsis: A blind artist who could produce a splitting image of anyone on canvas.
Comments: Comments make me happy, like little bits of candy :3
The city was as grey as the clouds which loomed overhead. The dense black tarred surface of the road coupled with murky almost opaque puddles at the sidewalk and people walking briskly, clenching their long coats tightly around them and holding an umbrella above their heads made the whole town seem cold and unnerving. Reita sighed and continued his journey down the cemented pathway. He stopped and stared at the strange yellowish glow in the evening sky where the sun was setting. Usually he needed to shield his eyes whenever he looked up at this time of the day, but today was so dreary and gloomy that even the sun decided not to torment him and leave him alone.
It definitely seemed like it was going to be another lonely cycle of doing the laundry, whipping up a meal, cleaning up the dishes and turning in to bed, all alone.
Well, not that Reita wasn’t used to this routine of course. The standard lifestyle of a bachelor salary man in Tokyo. A hectic bustling life during the day, and everything else comes to a dead standstill when the clock strikes 1800. Fortunately or unfortunately for him, Reita’s job did not require him to work OT. All he had to do was satisfy demands within 0900 to 1800 and he was a free bird to go.
Reita shook his head and sighed once more. A little more to go, a left turn and he would be home. That is, if he did not glance right and spot an unusual scene across the street.
A brown-haired man was sitting on a foldable black stool behind an easel as he drew on the canvas. His right fingers gripped a piece of charcoal firmly as he moved, however his eyes, unlike those of other street artists Reita had seen before, were not staring intensely at his work, but instead, he seemed to be in a dream-like stance. It was as though the artist himself was a passer by standing 30 cm away and giving the piece of art a mere once-over.
That, was definitely something out of the ordinary.
Intrigued, Reita threw a quick look at both ends of the road, and crossed over to where the artist and a small crowd were gathered.
A young lady rose from the stool next to the easel and thanked the artist warmly as he removed a piece of paper from the stand and handed it to her. He smiled and his hand fumbled a bit before the lady’s own hand closed around his and ended in a friendly handshake. After the lady dropped a few coins into an old palette next to him, a mini commotion arose among the crowd. People were bickering to decide who ought to go next and the noise only ceased when the artist spoke.
“The gentleman here is next. He has been waiting here for the past half an hour. Please wait patiently, I don’t mind carrying on into the night if all of you want your portraits drawn.”
Came the gentle voice of the artist as he pointed to a man standing closest to his easel. The crowded murmured in agreement and shushed each other.
The man advanced forward, placed his briefcase next to the stool and sat down. “Alright, don’t move for a moment.” The artist said. Reita frowned, for a moment? Don’t artists always request their models to remain as still as possible until the end? This gripped Reita’s attention even more.
The man grunted in response and the artist leaned forward. He placed the piece of charcoal on the easel’s tray and wiped his blackish hands against the side of his half apron. He lifted his hands and slowly inched it forward to the man’s face. His fingers brushed against the man’s jaw line and he closed his eyes. His hands continued feeling its way around the man’s face, pausing just a moment longer every time it came into contact with one of the man’s features. After a couple of minutes of so, the artist opened his eyes and thanked the man. It was then that the lady in front of Reita shifted and the full view of the artist’s face came into view.
His eyes were as grey as the evening sky.
The artist begun sketching the outlines of the man’s face, and slowly worked his way downwards starting from the eyebrows right down to his chin. He manipulated and alternated between thick and thin lines, dark and light shading, and soon enough he was done. An exact monochrome replica of the man’s face appeared on the sheet of paper on his canvas.
The crowed awed and applauded at the finish. Lines of “… amazing” “Absolutely stunning…” “Talented but oh so sad…” wafted among the group of individuals. Reita blinked at the last sentence he heard and questions begun forming in his head again, but he didn’t have to ponder long as they were quickly answered.
The man extended a hand to thank the artist, but the artist grappled around in thin air searching for his hand until the man mumbled an apology and grabbed the artist's instead. The artist revealed a dimpled smile and said it’s alright and hoped he liked the portrait. Again, similar to the previous lady, the man placed a few bills onto the palette, squeezed through the crowd and left.
The crowd begun to stir once more. However a thunder louder than their voices boomed, and a stroke of lightning flashed across the sky. The people sighed and started to disperse, each of them heading off in their own direction for home. All of them that is, except for Reita.
“You’re not leaving yet? I could rush one more portrait for you if you don’t mind risking the rain.” Said the dimpled artist. As Reita noticed before, he was looking at him, but not right at him. Reita was also amazed that the artist could sense his presence though he had not moved from his spot since he came. It really seemed true that the handicapped had much sharper senses than normal people do. It was incredible, yet tragic at the same time that those senses were sharpened to make up for the lack of one.
Reita looked up at the sky and saw that the dark clouds were really beginning to gather. However, he felt like he did not want to leave just yet. Hence he stepped forward onto the empty stool. The artist grinned and placed his charcoal stained hands on Reita’s face. Other people might have squirmed at the dirtiness of them but instead Reita felt comforted by its warmth. This was certainly strange.
The artist’s hands paused too, when he finished sensing around Reita’s face. It came to a stop on his cheeks and cupped his face as he embraced his oval frame. His eyebrows knotted together and the artist frowned.
This hadn’t happened just now.
“What’s wrong?”
“Warm,” the artist replied, his hands still cupping Reita’s face. “You’re warm, unlike the other people just now. The weather today is cold too. This is strange.”
Yes this is strange indeed, Reita affirmed inside.
Another clap of thunder sounded and they both jumped in their seats.
“Alright, if you don’t mind, I’ll make this a fast one?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
The artist picked up his drawing tool once more, and begun sketching the outline of something else apart from Reita’s face.
Reita perked up and scooted closer to the artist who was shading the background of the paper around a sun which seemed to be glowing.
When he was done, the artist signed off at the corner and handed it over to Reita who received it with quivering hands.
“That’s the first time in a long time since I drew something other than people’s faces.”
Reita nodded, urging the artist to continue though he knew the other couldn’t see his response. However, as if by some stroke of telepathy, the artist carried on.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to see anything. I figure this is our first meeting? I’ve not heard your foot steps before. In case you’re wondering, it’s not a miracle that a blind person like me is able to draw. My eyes were useful once. I was able to see a long time ago. All this while I thought I wouldn’t be able to see anything again, but while I was sensing your features, I thought I sensed something else. For a moment I thought I saw a spark in the darkness. It was only a split second, but I’m sure that I saw it. That’s why I drew this, to record it down. To show you what I’ve saw, in you, literally speaking.”
Reita hung on to each word of the artist. His own eyes grew wide as he matched what the artist shared to what he felt and saw just now when his hands were on his face. It was too much of a coincidence. He was about to tell him that he shared the same sentiments when raindrops started to fall.
The artist stood up and tilted his head up to the sky. He closed his eyes and allowed the rain to patter down onto his face. Reita blinked as he saw that the motion of the rain repelling off the artist had given him a strange unearthly whitish glow, and he too, followed what the artist did. When Reita tilted his head back and opened his eyes, he was shocked to find a pair of grey ones staring straight back at him.
He had no idea how long they stood there or how long the rain had lasted, but while the two of them stood there on the empty street, Reita had lifted the piece of portrait and read the signature of the artist, ‘Kai’.
A/N: Inspired by the weather and I think this might be one of my favourites :D