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Iwaizumi Hajime (27) didn’t know when it started but suddenly it doesn’t feel right anymore. The glory and honor of being a renowned artist felt like punches to his spine. The joy he feels whenever smells the scent of paint now only intoxicates his very lungs. Each stroke of the brush brings nothing but sorrow and the colors of the palette has become less and less vibrant each day. He was lost, tired and the light that was burning was now bleak. Hajime let go of the brush.
“Sir Iwaizumi when are you painting again?”
“Hajime you were so good, why did you stop?”
“You know you can just spill paint on canvas and you’ll already make money right? Come on just put your signature in here”
Stop. Stop. Iwaizumi is tired of hearing it. Iwaizumi tried and tried but it seems like the brush is a double-edged sword, slowly killing him as he holds on to it.
“I had enough savings to last me 4 lifetimes”
“So you’re saying...”
“No way...”
“Yes, I might be retiring.”
His friends, Toru, Matsun and Maki cannot believe it. They grew up together, knew each other since they were sucking off their mother’s breasts and they knew how Iwaizumi loved painting above everything. Maki would even joke that if the world runs out of water, Iwaizumi would drink paint then. But Iwaizumi thought, maybe that’s how it is. Maybe you can love something and then one day you get sick and you don’t want it anymore. He grew tired of the same call outs. It's time to go home and maybe drink it all away.
His place was not that far from those of Toru’s. He chose to walk, dragging his feet throughout the paveway of the neighborhood that he didn’t really appreciate then. For one, he used to be a busy man. Travelling from country to country, translating the experiences that he gained, transcending his emotions through the hues. Pouring his perceptions on the canvas.
Iwaizumi’s thought was interrupted by a drop of rain. Shit. He thought. He didn’t have an umbrella with him. His house may be walking distance but far enough for him to be soaked when he gets there. So he ran and ran until he saw a shed that could be his shelter for a while. He was bored, this isn’t as easy as he thought. Thinking about this unfortunate event, he wished he stayed a little longer. His train of thought was cut off, a laughter not so near. And when he took a peak at his right he saw an epitome of angel. A man with tangerine hair and an oversized sweater, reaching the middle of his thighs, dancing in the rain. Twirling as if the sky isn’t crying. Iwaizumi Hajime smiled, he was mesmerized by the man, who was completely unbothered. He was dancing, singing and enjoying the beat of the rain. He is exquisite and Iwaizumi Hajime wished nothing but to have his sketchpad right now. What a magnificent view. He is beautiful, it is no doubt but his staring must have been too noticeable as the man stopped. The man approached him, looked at him with his big doe eyes. Iwaizumi cannot comprehend what he felt. Maybe it's because of the way this breathtaking man is slowly closing in that he can feel his heart making its way out of his chest.
He was ready to blurt a word out of his lips until he felt the man hug him, trying to enclose him into his small body. Iwaizumi suddenly felt at peace and they stayed like that. No one wanted to let go but the wetness from the man’s damp clothes seeped its way to him.
“Oi, who are you, what are you doing?” Iwaizumi tried hard not to sound flustered. But man didn’t budge even an inch.
“O-Oi” this time Iwaizumi couldn’t help but fumble on his words. This man had the capacity to make him speechless. This time Iwaizumi chose to stare down at the fluff of orange on his chest and he regretted it as he saw the man staring back at him.
“Ne, are you fine now?”
“Ha?”
“Are you fine now? You look sad and my mom said that you need to hug people who are sad” The man said while still hugging him.
“You know that only applies to your friends right?” Iwaizumi tried to sound annoyed. He doesn’t want the man to know how nervous he is now.
“Oh I’m sorry” The man finally let him go. “But can I still hug you mister?”. He looked at him again with pleading eyes that you can never turn down.
“Yeey”
“Oi, you don’t know if I’m a bad person you know”
“But you’re not”
“How can you be sure”
“I just know you’re not. Plus you are warm”
Iwaizumi Hajime sure knew how it feels to have butterflies in the stomach. The first one was when he held a brush in his hands. The second was when he made a painting for the first time. The third was when he reached his break as an artist and now this moment. He put his arms around the man too. Cuddling with the man with orange hair, inside a shed, with the comfort of the rain, the moon and the bleak streetlights . Iwaizumi Hajime felt the butterflies again.
Iwaizumi Hajime lost track of time.The last time he knew they hugged each other inside the cold shed until their eyes grew weary. But now that the moon is gone, so is the man. Where is he? Why is he not here? Why did he leave just like that? And why did he leave without even giving me his name? Iwaizumi was pissed but he knows that there is nothing he can do about it anymore so he continued his walk to his home. Despite the slight anger that he felt, Iwaizumi immediately entered the empty house and went straight to a room which reminded him of his passion and youth. Iwaizumi Hajime found himself holding the brush again.
“So what made you change your mind?”
“We thought you were stopping for good?”
“Toru, you owe us ramen. We told you he wouldn’t stop”
“Hey! I am Iwa-chan’s best friend. I knew he really wanted to stop back then”
“Who told you, you’re my best friend shittykawa?”
“That hurts, Iwa-chan”
I t was months after that night. Iwaizumi found himself painting for the first time, after years of hiatus. It sparked the candle whose flame was turned off. Suddenly the fire kept burning again and he couldn't stop. He found himself working with new pieces again, joining galleries and even hosting his own.
“So everything sold out?”
“Yes, everything… except that one.”
“Really? I heard someone offered you millions for that?!”
“Shut up Maki, I told you it's not for sale”
“But it's been months Hajime! You already broadcasted it on TV, You even got trending on social media but Tangerine boy is nowhere to be found”
“Are you sure it's not a ghost Hajime? Are you sure you’re not on drugs?”
“Matsun, I told you this a few times already but no, I am not on drugs, and it’s not a ghost! We hugged!”
Matsun and Makki continued teasing Hajime but he can only get pissed. Because again, who would’ve believed that the person he painted was real, when they already did everything they could but they couldn’t find him. Hajime goes back to the shed every single day, hoping to see him again and to give the painting in person, as a way to give gratitude to the person who inspired him to paint again. Sometimes even Hajime thinks that maybe Matsun and Makki are right. Maybe he’s not real. That he’s just another one of his unconscious imaginations who slipped past to reality. But Iwaizumi Hajime couldn’t forget how he felt the way the man hugged him, how those beautiful orbs stared at him.
“I-Iwa-chan!”
“What is it again Crappykawa?”
“Y-you need to see this Iwa-chan…”
“You are Sir Iwaizumi Hajime right? I am Hinata Natsu, Hinata Shoyo’s sister”
“Please drop the sir, no need to be that formal”
“Iwaizumi-san, we really wanted to call you right away but Onii-chan was against it, he said, h-he doesn’t want you to see him like this anyway”
“Can I see him? Please?”
Natsu only looked at him in the eye, as if telling him to get ready for the sight that he is about to see. Iwaizumi got inside the room, holding the painting and a bouquet of sunflowers that reminded him of the man— Shoyo. But Iwaizumi Hajime was shocked because the man in front of him was nowhere near the man he remembered months ago. Gone were the vibrant aura and the smile that inspired him to hold the brush again All he saw was a man who’s pale, skin and bones, frail, but his eyes, his eyes are still the same.
“Hi, Shoyo, I want to formally introduce myself, I’m Iwaizumi Hajime”. Iwaizumi tried hard not to cry as he talked. There were many scenarios that he imagined if ever the two of them will meet. Surely, this also crossed his mind but he was never ready for this. The moment he knew from that the person he was looking for is bed-ridden, terminally ill and just counting his remaining days broke Iwaizumi in a thousand and more ways. But seeing him in person broke him a million times more. Is he a bad person? Did he not pray to God that often? Then why is he punished this way? Why would he be given a reason to look forward, only to snatch it away?”
“You can sit beside him Iwaizumi-san, I’ll just have to go to the nurse station. Can you look for Oniichan?”
“H-Hai”
“Iwaizumi-san, Oniichan cannot talk much anymore it takes effort for him to speak coherently b-but he can hear you”
The moment Natsu went out, tears streamed down Iwaizumi’s face. He held the frail Shoyo in his embrace. “Why didn’t you reach out earlier? I could’ve took care of you”
“G-Gomene I-Iwaizumi-san, I wanted t-to but I don’t want you to see me l-like this, t-the one y-you painted w-was marvelous a-and I wanted y-you to remember me like that”
“I-I looked so hard for you, I’m sorry I didn’t look hard enough”
“N-ne its not time to b-be sorry Iwaizumi-san, p-lease tell m-me about the painting”
Iwaizumi talked to Shoyo the whole afternoon, telling him about the painting and his adventures as an artist. How he was just a small time painter on the side of the road until a single piece changed his life and then he became famous and made millions out of his pieces. Shoyo tried hard to talk to him too. Telling him about how he was in the hospital all his life, undergoing tests after tests, countless doctors telling him they can heal him but miserably failed every time He told Iwaizumi how he sneaked out of the hospital grounds to experience how it is to live like a normal person.
“So the moment I met you, you snuck out that time”
“H-Hai”
“C-Can we take a picture, Iwaizumi-san”
Shoyo looked at him intently again, but there was something in his eyes that broke Iwaizumi even more. It reminds him of what hunted him back then. Iwaizumi is certain, Hinata Shoyo is tired.
“S-Sure”. Iwaizumi grabbed his phone out of his pocket and placed his left arm around Shoyo, drawing him near his body.
“1...2...3… Say Cheese Shoyo”. Hinata though obviously looking tired, did the best he could to deliver a smile, and Iwaizumi did his best to keep it all together because any moment from now, he knows the rain will pour again.
“I-Iwaizumi-san can we stay like this? Can you keep me close”. Iwaizumi did as Shoyo told him. He hugged him tight, not ready to let him go yet. God, if you are real, please just give me a little more time.
“I-Iwaizumi-san I’m tired now.”
“S-Shoyo”
“I-I’ve always known you are a good person, I love your paintings, I’d love to see more of them”
“You’d have to live longer then…” Iwaizumi said, still not letting go and not planning to.
“I-I’d always look at you I-Iwaiz-zumi san”
“I-Iwaizumi-san, I will rest now b-but please d-don’t let leave yet”
“Hhhmmm”
“I-Iwaizumi-san, are y-you still there?”
“Y-yes I am”
“...”
“...”
“I-Iwaizumi-san”
“Hhmm”
“Y-you are warm”
“...”
“...”
“...”
“...”
And just like how Iwaizumi predicted, the rain did fall that day.
It has been three months since the day Iwaizumi visited Shoyo, three months since Shoyo was proclaimed dead. Sure he cried every night, drowning himself in alcohol but he realized that no amount of crying can bring back Shoyo’s life.
It is raining again. It was raining and Iwaizumi hated it, not only does it make him too drowsy to do art, but also reminded him of the man he met in the rain— Shoyo. Shoyo, my angel, are you looking over me? Is it the reason why it is raining? I know, I know I should do art, but it's making me want to stay in bed. I hope you are happy now. Are you happy there? You are really selfish, you didn’t even give me the chance to be with you.
DING DONG DING DONG DING DONG
Who the hell is this again? If this is Toru, Makki and Matsun I will punch them for sure. Iwaizumi thought but to his surprise, “Now what is it this time Shittykawa?” it was Hinata Natsu.
“Oh did I come at a bad time? I’m sorry I was kind of in a hurry and I couldn’t reach your number”
“Oh I’m sorry I thought it was one of my crappy friends again, I forgot to give you my personal number too, I intentionally don’t answer calls because the press is annoying. What brings you here though, Natsu?”
“The family is moving to Miyagi by the end of the month, just to help us move on from h-him, we cannot keep the painting because we know its special for you too, a-and I saw something while clearing up his r-room, I think he forgot about to tell us about this but I b-believe I should give it back to you…”
Natsu gave him a box containing two frames inside, the first was the painting he made for Shoyo, but the second one caught him off guard. He’s tongue was glued to the floor of his mouth. Suddenly, he cannot spew the right words.
“I just went here to leave that Iwaizumi-san, I’m actually in a hurry too to meet some people, If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be leaving now. T-there’s actually a note on the back Iwaizumi-san”
“S-Sure, take care then”
I waizumi couldn’t believe his own eyes. The second frame was an old painting. Not just any other old painting, but his own painting, the first painting he ever sold. It was a landscape painting of a field while it was raining. It was a portrait where he saw Hinata the first time. The field near the shed.
Iwaizumi felt his knees go weak. He turned the frame and felt the tears come out of his eyes. Some of the markings were faded, suggesting that it was written at different times.
“What a beautiful place. This shall be added on my bucket list.”
“I Met the person who made this today, and we met at this place too. He was as nice as I met him last time. He didn’t recognize me though but maybe it's because my hair was dyed that time but now it's back to orange”
“He painted for me! and I know his name now! I want to meet him but I don’t want him to see me sick”
“Iwaizumi-san, I’m sorry if I talk to you through here but I guess maybe this will somehow reach you. Thoughts are powerful right? Anyway Iwaizumi-san, we may never meet anymore and if we do, I don’t know if I can say this, but thank you, for giving me the idea to experience things, for showing me emotions through the pictures that you create. Thank you for your talent and for touching my life. I hope more people would experience what I felt. I wish I had more time to see more of what you can do, but I guess having these moments, these chances are already enough. I will always be looking over you Iwaizumi-san!”
That was the last note, Iwaizumi thought he finished crying already but the note Shoyo left just made him pour those emotions again. Did he really make people feel that way? He may have been passionate when he was younger and wished to inspire people, to make them feel happy, to be able to let them take a glimpse of how he viewed the world through every stroke of his brush. But as he grew older, he knew that his works mean nothing but as a trophy, a status symbol, the one you get to brag. Iwaizumi Hajime knew that it was all for the money in the end. That he may be famous, a prodigy they say, but no maybe he wasn’t as great as they say, they just think of him as nothing but a brand. But knowing that at least he inspired someone, tugged different strings in his heart, it is a different feeling of satisfaction.
No, Shoyo. Thank You. Thank You Shoyo. You are really my Angel.
Iwai zumi dried his tears and decided to get out of the house, he brought with him his canvas, a few brushes and a palette. He walked a few blocks and returned to where he made his best moments with the Angel who saved him. He was his salvation.
Shoyo are you there? Are you watching me? I miss you Shoyo. I will always miss you. Thank you for saving me
Iwaizumi prepared his things and got ready to paint again. He knows his imagination is playing with him but he thanks it for making it seem like the angel is there. That Shoyo is there dancing in the field and twirling around but it’s different now. The sun is up and it feels like an angel is smiling down at him.
.
“'Cause this angel has flown away from me
Leaving me in drunken misery
I should have clipped his wings and made him mine
For all eternity
Now this angel has flown away from me
Thought I had the strength to set him free
Did what I did because I love him
Will he ever find his way back home to me”