Picturesque Melody Chapter 6
Title: Picturesque Melody
Author: Masuhisa
Pairing: Ohmiya, one-sided Sakumiya, one-sided Juntoshi
Summary: A deaf painter meets a blind pianist
Disclaimer: DOAF (don't own, all fiction)
WARNING: Very Angsty
Chapter 6:
Nino strummed away on his guitar, the metal strings rubbing against his injured fingers, making the blisters on them break, or creating new ones. But his fingers did not hurt. No matter how the guitar strings brushed against his wounds, Nino could not feel any pain.
He was in that position for god knows how long. Ever since he heard what Ohno had to say on TV, he threw the remote in his hands at the innocent television, fuming in anger. But the remote failed to break the screen like how Nino wanted it to, Nino ran towards the wall, hitting his knees against the furniture here and there, felt around for the plug, and forcefully pulled it out of the socket. But not before hearing Ohno say ‘I would like someone who loves the sea, for fishing is another hobby of mine’.
Tears started dripping down Nino’s face the next second, faster than it had at first as Nino pulled his legs close to his chest, tucking himself into a ball. Why was the world so cruel to him? As if being deprived of one of his senses was not bad enough, but now, when he finally found someone who could relate to him, and possibly someone who he felt something for, the world just had to do its worst, and make that person the exact opposite of him.
Slowly uncurling himself, not because he felt more secure, but rather to get himself under the safe blankets of his bed, Nino got up. He locked the door, not wanting to be disturbed at a time like this, and snuggled into his make-shift cavern.
Feeling more protected as he was surrounded by the blankets, and had his trusty guitar with him, Nino plucked on the strings and decided to let the hot tears flow. Tears of sadness, anger, remorse, rage raced down his pale face as Nino thought why the world would want him to meet Ohno, when all it did was separate them later.
Weird noises radiated from his guitar as Nino plucked a string at random, not caring if what he made was music or noise. A faint metallic smell filled the air, telling Nino his fingers were bleeding, but that was the least of his worries.
When he first met Ohno at his exhibition, Nino was sure there was something different about this man. It was as if there was an invisible line that connected them together. It was the strong feeling that they were somehow connected that made Nino go to Ohno’s studio, despite having to ask all sorts of random people on the streets if they knew where they great Ohno Satoshi’s studio was, and walk kilometers just to get there as he had no money on him to take a cab.
Nino tried not to smile as he recalled what happened at Ohno’s studio, but failed miserably as those precious memories flooded his head. The calming surroundings of Ohno’s studio made Nino so relaxed. Coupled with the thought of having someone who truly understood him close by, Nino was able to string notes together quicker that he had ever done so and create a beautiful piece which received much praise from fans and critics.
In short, when Ohno was around him, Nino felt like he could actually sense the different colors. He though Ohno felt the same way too.
Apparently his intuition was wrong.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
After making it through the interview, there was nowhere Ohno would rather go, than back to his studio. It was at his studio where Ohno felt the most comfortable. The only place where he felt he was really himself.
Ohno picked a blank canvas and placed it on the stand. He stared at it for a few good minutes, before deciding that he had no picture in mind and would just let his hands move on its own.
With an old frayed brush in his hands, and a whole range of paints in front of him, Ohno began putting paint on the canvas. Slowly at first, but after a while, his hands seemed to have a life of its own as it began dripping the brush into the murky water before transferring paint onto the canvas.
As his hands worked on it own without the instructions of Ohno’s brain, his mind started drifting off. It started with planning a fishing trip, then to a fishing rod and then to him catching some rainbow colored fish. Suddenly, in his head, the image of the fish slowly transformed. The solid black eyes turned into a beautiful shade of brown, while luscious soot black hair appeared. Nino. Ohno shook his head furiously, trying as hard as he could to mentally morph the image back into a fish, but it was futile.
Letting out a loud, frustrated shriek, Ohno’s hands made one final swoop across the canvas, as the sound of paper ripping echoed through the room. Ohno froze. When he finally regained control of his hands, he dropped the brush into the pot of water and turned his attention to the painting.
Ohno could say he was shocked at what he subconsciously painted. It was him and Nino. They were at a park, both seated hand in hand on a straw colored mat under a gigantic cherry blossom tree with a gorgeous waterfall behind them. It was simply too stunning.
He now knew why he had accidentally ripped it. When he did the last stroke, Ohno had used too much force, so that when the brush came in contact with the paper, the brush hair flattened, exposing the wooden part. Being an old brush, the part which was exposed was rather sharp. Thus, Ohno had ripped the painting.
Surprisingly, Ohno did not feel so bad. Despite it being a masterpiece which Ohno knew would fetch thousands if not millions, Ohno was rather glad he had ripped it. Why? Because it had Nino on it.
Ohno ripped the canvas. The same way Nino ripped his heart out though that magazine article. Ohno thought Nino understood his feelings for him. Why else would Nino walk all the way to his studio? Why else would Nino smile so brightly while watching him cook his cha-han? Why else would they even meet in the first place?
Ohno raised his hands and reached out to touch the ruined painting, tracing his fingers over he still wet paint. His fingers came into contact with the rip. Ohno laughed bitterly. The rip went right through the space in between the picture-him and the picture-Nino. The rip went right through their linked hands, severing them into two.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Jun watched Sakurai swirl his glass of wine absent mindedly, staring in the direction of a television nearby, but Jun knew Sakurai wasn’t watching the programme.
“What?” asked Jun bluntly, sipping from his almost empty wine glass, a huge contrast to Sakurai’s full one.
Sakurai placed his glass on the table, sat up straight and looked at Jun in the eye, “I don’t think this is right,” said Sakurai after a long pause.
“Why not?” smirked Jun, taking another sip. When he met Sakurai in this pub they are currently in, Jun knew it was no coincidence. Somebody out there must want them to separate Ohno and Nino.
“If they really like each other, shouldn’t we be supporting them?” asked Sakurai, his gaze wavering.
Jun continued to smirk. Sakurai’s slight doubt was not going to be much of a problem. He could see the man wanted Nino so badly he was going to do anything. It was just his morals at work. But that could be taken care of easily.
“How you ever heard of the saying ‘all is fair in love and war’?” asked Jun, crossing his right leg over his left dramatically. Jun grin got wider as he saw Sakurai’s ethics waver, before smashing into bits. Of course he could get Sakurai to agree with his plans. He had to. He wasn’t going to let him ruin the perfect night he was going to have with Satoshi.
“Wanna hear my new plan?” asked Jun, leaning in. Sakurai nodded.
Author: Masuhisa
Pairing: Ohmiya, one-sided Sakumiya, one-sided Juntoshi
Summary: A deaf painter meets a blind pianist
Disclaimer: DOAF (don't own, all fiction)
WARNING: Very Angsty
Chapter 6:
Nino strummed away on his guitar, the metal strings rubbing against his injured fingers, making the blisters on them break, or creating new ones. But his fingers did not hurt. No matter how the guitar strings brushed against his wounds, Nino could not feel any pain.
He was in that position for god knows how long. Ever since he heard what Ohno had to say on TV, he threw the remote in his hands at the innocent television, fuming in anger. But the remote failed to break the screen like how Nino wanted it to, Nino ran towards the wall, hitting his knees against the furniture here and there, felt around for the plug, and forcefully pulled it out of the socket. But not before hearing Ohno say ‘I would like someone who loves the sea, for fishing is another hobby of mine’.
Tears started dripping down Nino’s face the next second, faster than it had at first as Nino pulled his legs close to his chest, tucking himself into a ball. Why was the world so cruel to him? As if being deprived of one of his senses was not bad enough, but now, when he finally found someone who could relate to him, and possibly someone who he felt something for, the world just had to do its worst, and make that person the exact opposite of him.
Slowly uncurling himself, not because he felt more secure, but rather to get himself under the safe blankets of his bed, Nino got up. He locked the door, not wanting to be disturbed at a time like this, and snuggled into his make-shift cavern.
Feeling more protected as he was surrounded by the blankets, and had his trusty guitar with him, Nino plucked on the strings and decided to let the hot tears flow. Tears of sadness, anger, remorse, rage raced down his pale face as Nino thought why the world would want him to meet Ohno, when all it did was separate them later.
Weird noises radiated from his guitar as Nino plucked a string at random, not caring if what he made was music or noise. A faint metallic smell filled the air, telling Nino his fingers were bleeding, but that was the least of his worries.
When he first met Ohno at his exhibition, Nino was sure there was something different about this man. It was as if there was an invisible line that connected them together. It was the strong feeling that they were somehow connected that made Nino go to Ohno’s studio, despite having to ask all sorts of random people on the streets if they knew where they great Ohno Satoshi’s studio was, and walk kilometers just to get there as he had no money on him to take a cab.
Nino tried not to smile as he recalled what happened at Ohno’s studio, but failed miserably as those precious memories flooded his head. The calming surroundings of Ohno’s studio made Nino so relaxed. Coupled with the thought of having someone who truly understood him close by, Nino was able to string notes together quicker that he had ever done so and create a beautiful piece which received much praise from fans and critics.
In short, when Ohno was around him, Nino felt like he could actually sense the different colors. He though Ohno felt the same way too.
Apparently his intuition was wrong.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
After making it through the interview, there was nowhere Ohno would rather go, than back to his studio. It was at his studio where Ohno felt the most comfortable. The only place where he felt he was really himself.
Ohno picked a blank canvas and placed it on the stand. He stared at it for a few good minutes, before deciding that he had no picture in mind and would just let his hands move on its own.
With an old frayed brush in his hands, and a whole range of paints in front of him, Ohno began putting paint on the canvas. Slowly at first, but after a while, his hands seemed to have a life of its own as it began dripping the brush into the murky water before transferring paint onto the canvas.
As his hands worked on it own without the instructions of Ohno’s brain, his mind started drifting off. It started with planning a fishing trip, then to a fishing rod and then to him catching some rainbow colored fish. Suddenly, in his head, the image of the fish slowly transformed. The solid black eyes turned into a beautiful shade of brown, while luscious soot black hair appeared. Nino. Ohno shook his head furiously, trying as hard as he could to mentally morph the image back into a fish, but it was futile.
Letting out a loud, frustrated shriek, Ohno’s hands made one final swoop across the canvas, as the sound of paper ripping echoed through the room. Ohno froze. When he finally regained control of his hands, he dropped the brush into the pot of water and turned his attention to the painting.
Ohno could say he was shocked at what he subconsciously painted. It was him and Nino. They were at a park, both seated hand in hand on a straw colored mat under a gigantic cherry blossom tree with a gorgeous waterfall behind them. It was simply too stunning.
He now knew why he had accidentally ripped it. When he did the last stroke, Ohno had used too much force, so that when the brush came in contact with the paper, the brush hair flattened, exposing the wooden part. Being an old brush, the part which was exposed was rather sharp. Thus, Ohno had ripped the painting.
Surprisingly, Ohno did not feel so bad. Despite it being a masterpiece which Ohno knew would fetch thousands if not millions, Ohno was rather glad he had ripped it. Why? Because it had Nino on it.
Ohno ripped the canvas. The same way Nino ripped his heart out though that magazine article. Ohno thought Nino understood his feelings for him. Why else would Nino walk all the way to his studio? Why else would Nino smile so brightly while watching him cook his cha-han? Why else would they even meet in the first place?
Ohno raised his hands and reached out to touch the ruined painting, tracing his fingers over he still wet paint. His fingers came into contact with the rip. Ohno laughed bitterly. The rip went right through the space in between the picture-him and the picture-Nino. The rip went right through their linked hands, severing them into two.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Jun watched Sakurai swirl his glass of wine absent mindedly, staring in the direction of a television nearby, but Jun knew Sakurai wasn’t watching the programme.
“What?” asked Jun bluntly, sipping from his almost empty wine glass, a huge contrast to Sakurai’s full one.
Sakurai placed his glass on the table, sat up straight and looked at Jun in the eye, “I don’t think this is right,” said Sakurai after a long pause.
“Why not?” smirked Jun, taking another sip. When he met Sakurai in this pub they are currently in, Jun knew it was no coincidence. Somebody out there must want them to separate Ohno and Nino.
“If they really like each other, shouldn’t we be supporting them?” asked Sakurai, his gaze wavering.
Jun continued to smirk. Sakurai’s slight doubt was not going to be much of a problem. He could see the man wanted Nino so badly he was going to do anything. It was just his morals at work. But that could be taken care of easily.
“How you ever heard of the saying ‘all is fair in love and war’?” asked Jun, crossing his right leg over his left dramatically. Jun grin got wider as he saw Sakurai’s ethics waver, before smashing into bits. Of course he could get Sakurai to agree with his plans. He had to. He wasn’t going to let him ruin the perfect night he was going to have with Satoshi.
“Wanna hear my new plan?” asked Jun, leaning in. Sakurai nodded.