Work Text:
The tip of Ena’s brush danced across the canvas — bright colors colliding in an attempt to make a lovely piece. In her own perspective, she discovered many errors. Audibly, she heaved a pestered sigh.
This isn’t how I wanted it to look. Where did I go wrong…? she thought, turning on her stool.
Playfully, Mizuki poked Ena on the nose, catching her by surprise. The latter jolted away, dripping wet paint onto her apron. What an unpleasant greeting.
There was an unamused expression plastered on Ena’s face — one that Mizuki teased her about. Or, well, rather teased her to the point she made that specific look, for the most part. Mizuki noticed a subtle difference when it was directed to them. Ena’s eyes would appear gentler than usual.
Perhaps the Shinonome sister had grown used to her friend’s antics.
But, Ena’s eyes. Brown, but they had the ability to turn green.
Not in a literal sense. Metaphorically… it was to describe a feeling she bore a lot of the time. One that drove her past speed limits she didn’t even know existed. That feeling controlled her life, her views, everything. She hated how much it did.
Mizuki’s voice sent her back into reality. “Off in your own world, it seems,” they said, pulling up a chair. “I figured you were still at school, so I came looking for you. Expected you to be here in the art room.” They paused. “It’s getting late.”
Ena shook her head. “It’s OK,” she muttered, “it’s not like I want to go home, anyway.” She dipped the brush in water, dragging off the excess paint onto a towel.
There was no changing her mind.
Silently, Mizuki watched as she got back to work. It was impressive how diligently Ena drew. It was as though they were witnessing a movie unfold right in front of them, one that simply enraptured those in the audience.
“Oh, Ena… I envy you.”
“What…?” Slowly, Ena placed down her paintbrush. “How could you be jealous of someone like me?” Her eyebrows kneaded as the corner of her lips tugged downward. It felt as though her heart sank like a boat in the boundless sea.
How…? I have nothing…
Mizuki clasped their hands together, holding them close to their chest. “You can illustrate such cute things!” The only things they could do themself were sewing, embroidering, and making collages. It was nothing compared to the beauty Ena bestowed upon an empty white sheet. “I can’t do any of that.”
There was a brief moment of silence between the pair.
Ena couldn’t muster the correct words to say — she feared that she would end up lashing out and storming off on her lonesome. Not that it was anything new, however, and it was disgracing to admit. She didn’t have a reason to get annoyed, but it was beyond her control.
“But, Mizuki…” she began, tone strengthening as she spoke, “you have much more talent than I do, damn it. My art isn’t as cute as the pretty dresses you create! Your music videos are also… so good…” Mizuki couldn’t help but chuckle. Their eyes fixated on the aspiring artist, whose heart burned with passionate envy toward those who performed things flawlessly.
…Was it OK for friends to get jealous of each other?
They didn’t reply. They knew very well Ena would try to paint over any argument they may bring forward. Regardless, Mizuki’s own feelings remained. That isn’t true… Why did Kanade invite you to the circle, then? they thought, smiling to themself.
“Ah, I appreciate your words. Your painting looks really nice so far, Ena!”
Ena’s face softened as she blinked. All of a sudden, she grew hesitant to respond. “You… really think so?” she said, envy transforming into bashfulness.
Promptly, Mizuki nodded. “You know what this reminds me of?” Their finger pointed at the colorful clouds illustrated in her picture.
“What?”
“Sweets! I love sweets.”
“I know that. How?”
They hopped out of their seat and walked toward the canvas. “Look at the pink and blue colors! It’s like cotton candy at a festival… I feel like eatin’ it!” They let out a laugh. “Ena, you really are so talented. I mean it when I say that it does make me envy you.” Ena’s face flushed.
This time, she did not get angry.
“Talented…?” Her mouth became dry. “You really are jealous of my artwork…?”
The word talent always left a bad taste on her tongue — and it lingered hours after its utterance. It was something Ena desired to possess the most. She lacked it, and no matter how much she tried, she knew recognition was far from her grasp. That had been her belief for years.
“Very,” Mizuki said. “I wish I could produce captivating drawings.”
Tears brimmed at Ena’s eyes, though she didn’t know if she was upset or happy. She let out quiet sniffles, rubbing her nose with her wrist. Wet paint blotched her light skin. It felt relieving, somehow, hearing that someone envied her. It gave her worth. It also gave her another reason to keep on drawing.
Once more, the animator spoke as they gently placed a hand on the artist’s shoulder. “We should have Kanade write a song based on it,” they suggested, kneading Ena’s back to soothe her.
Ena’s cheeks burned.
“H-Huh!? I don’t think…” she stammered. “…Would she…? That would be nice of her…” The mere idea of it made her heart thump in her chest. To have a song written, inspired by her own painting — it sent tears of joy rolling down the sides of her face.
“Ehe, let’s tell her tomorrow! Come on, it’s time to get going.”
“But my painting.”
Mizuki looked at it. “It’s still wet. I don’t think you can bring it home yet.” Ena opened her mouth to protest, but she was interrupted before she could even talk. “You can get it before morning school starts and finish it during the day.” They were right.
Affirmatively, Ena shook her head up and down.
She collected her brushes and paints. She couldn’t get her mind off of the conversation, and it was evident in the smile she eventually wore. Mizuki was quick to notice. They grinned in return.
“Thank you, Mizuki.”
They tilted their head. “What for?” they asked.
“I’m… happy to hear you feel that way about my art.”
“Of course, Ena. Keep up the good work! 25-ji wouldn’t be 25-ji without your breathtakin’ masterpieces.”
Envy did feel refreshing when Ena wasn’t the one experiencing it. Though not a good trait, she knew that it was normal — her negative emotions were normal, everything she felt was normal. Being on the receiving end of praise made her heart flutter.
Someone was jealous of her art. It had only meant that she had the qualities of an artist, in which she strove for her entire life.
She hoped to make more people feel likewise — to encourage them to try and try like she always had.
“I think I’ll post this piece online.”