Work Text:
He needed this to run smoothly or they'd lose their opening. The moon only rested in the sky's center for so long.
Yuuji positioned the camera right over the edge of Megumi's cheekbone. The silver highlight he brushed on earlier danced under the stars, catching the moon’s rays and accentuating his face’s sharp curve. The shimmer curved up from his side over his brow, creating a crescent effect. Glittery sapphire stole the show however, and Yuuji lost himself in capturing their empyrean glow. He should've realized soon how flash happy he was becoming, with how watery his muses eyes grew.
"Ow!" Megumi squeezed his eyes shut, pressing the moisture back in. The wind chipped at his naked arms as he wrapped them tightly around his torso. They'd taken upper body shots earlier as the sun was setting. The same shimmer on his eyes rubbed all over his chest, engulfed in the buttery sunset from two hours ago. The warmth had been deeply relaxing, almost washing away the stressors from the past month. But now his body’s glow had long faded in the grassy hill he was photographed on. It'd been a small frenzy when Yuuji noticed the makeup fading, and the race back to his car for the powder prolonged his chilly suffering. That was all two hours ago, by now the night was growing to be middle aged, and Megumi was starving.
"Are you almost done? I was promised Udon." Yuuji pressed his shoulder gently down in the grass. his subject's heart fluttered, and he found the prickly push of the grass in his back wasn't too bad. The hand on his shoulder remained, and the photographer leaned in for another shot.
"Just give me three more minutes, you don't understand how perfect it is right now." Perfection. Yuuji had liked to call it accuracy when they first met freshman year. The bubbly peach haired boy that bounced into the lecture hall behind him didn't initially come off as a perfectionist. But Megumi always noticed the smaller things. It's what had earned him the visual arts scholarship in the first place, little things formed the greater picture. The anxious drumming of Yuuji's pencil on his books, the constant erasing and rewriting when his ideas flowed through his head. The prolonged length of each project he tackled, it all came together to form a sickly saccharine portrait of an obsessive artist. The cheery facade cracked with each coming year, to the point Yuuji wore two extremes.
They'd never been particularly close, Megumi had thought the other was lying at first when he asked him to be a subject in his capstone project.
"It's an examination of the night." Yuuji Itadori was rough around the edges. A melodic but cracked voice, one that was probably joyful not too long ago. He had a fresh scar running along the top of his nose that almost dipped into his tear ducts. His hands were dry and scratched and gripping the to-go cup of coffee a little too closely. But his eyes, fiery amber like a bursting star, pushed through.
"Sounds interesting."
"Really? You know I never know how to explain it but I want to look at all of the night. The beauty of the nightlife and nature, but also that soft white underbelly. The creatures that run along the streets into alleys you know?" Megumi didn't know. If he had to be honest with himself, he knew he lacked the ambition of Yuuji. His work was too "technical," as a professor had called it. Visually stunning, with all the perfect skills of a well rounded aesthetic master, but no soul. He could admire an artist like the photographer, one that didn't fully understand what he wanted to do, but accepted that the idea would form in time. A puzzle he didn't have all the pieces for yet, and Megumi wanted to be a part of it.
"Sure. Let me know when."
He knew him as a stoner boy with a taste for the lurid. A popular, effervescent artist who wasn't afraid to touch on the extremes. His past pieces ranged from the overly sanitized locations of morgues to little kids running around with sparklers. Megumi can remember how awestruck he was with one piece from the photographer. A young woman, her pale skin had been washed into the background. The colors were startingly washed out, as if bleached clean, with deep bruising along her neck and dark rouge on her lips sticking out dramatically. Her eyes held silent tears that pleaded with the camera. The red veins in her pupils were accentuated along with the bruises, and the traces of heartbreak in her eyes told a million stories in a second.
Allegedly the photo had come after he'd cut off a friends with benefits relationship with a drama student. The photo he'd taken right after they'd spoken, as if to have one final memento of their time together. It felt weird to Megumi, to put someone in such a vulnerable state on display, but that was the point. The vulnerability in the soul, something Yuuji strove for with each piece. His work was always anticipated with each photography student showing, and Megumi was starting to understand why.
When the time came, along with the hours drenched in silver glitter stuck to his skin with freezing air, his eyes dipped as he stared up at the sky. Yuuji had taken the last of his photos and rolled away, fixing the camera and moving the pictures to his computer.
"How are you doing that out here?"
"Hotspot." A delighted grin flashed across his face. The photographer was entrancing. His large frame suddenly contracted in front of the computer. Wild eyes finding focus, and the perfectionist overtaking the conscious. Megumi looked out to the lake under the bridge. The hill they were on faced downtown Tokyo, with its long skyscrapers stretched elegantly to the sky. His whole life was absorbed in the neon blaze of the night, yet here, on this breezy little hill next to the photographer, it's artificial lights felt so foreign. They lost their appeal when compared to the gentle glow of the night.
There had to be two of Yuuji, Megumi convinced himself. One that breezed from person to person, charming them and becoming the life of the party. And then this Yuuji, the focused, determined student who'd swallow down every itch and desire to stir away just for that perfect shot. He was an artist in every sense of the word. Someone who saw the mundane and formed colors in their bleak existence. Who saw the empty roads of the countryside and pictured someone's entire life driving on them. A student who excelled while rejecting the technicalities of past masters to embrace his own style. His other work was bold and brash. Ones that sparked debate and contrasting views. Maybe it was the initial envy that convinced Megumi to help him. Maybe through observing, he could steal just a bit of the other man's spark.
The raven head broke out of his trance with the tap of keys. Yuuji slammed his computer shut and stood up. His broad back swaddled in a red hoodie stared out at the river. Had he missed something, or had a new idea been born in the quiet? Megumi imagined him turning to him with a sly grin. One hand reaching for the camera with the other heading towards Megumi's shoulder. The leaner man would follow, faded glitter tracks and all, as the photographer pushed him into the river. Another perfect shot for the night, the lost soul floating in the river. His heart rate was picking up in frantic patterns, not from fear, rather anticipation.
But the photographer turned from the water and glanced towards Megumi, cocking his head in the direction of his car.
"Come on, I promised you dinner."
The place was quaint with a warm manufactured glow. Yuuji scarfed down his food, scanning over the pictures on his laptop, and making what sounded to be intense edits. His face turned sour as he slammed the machine down in frustration. His companion was itching to ask what was wrong, but it felt out of place with the meal. They weren't close, despite the times Megumi had glanced his way in class and caught himself admiring the soft curls on his head or sprayed freckles along his cheeks. The time's he'd catch himself scanning for Yuuji's name in the lineup for artist presentations in whatever gallery was being held that week. They weren't friends, this had been a favor for free food.
"You know I think I might go back to regular films." Yuuji swirled his noodles slowly as he spoke.
"There's nothing like processing the film in that dark room. it's easy these day's to make all these edits on your computer and not having to worry about running out of film, but it's fun to do all those touch-ups by hand." Megumi assumed so. It felt better to sit by a canvas and stain it with colors all day then stick to his ipad. You had to work around your mistakes when it was done by hand. He didn't have the luxury to remove a color that he decided wasn't appealing enough, all he could do was work around it. Sometimes, if he got really lucky, the color would blend easily into another shade, creating a new life on the canvas.
"Why don't you?" Yuuji looked up, and it startled him to see how little of his meal his guest had eaten.
"I mean for this project it wouldn't have been the best, I prefer using the film in light. And I'm really not the best with cameras." He cut himself off with a small giggle. "I think this one is like , what, the eighth camera in my life? yeah with how the prices have gone up for these "vintage" cameras, it's not really best for me to spend that type of cash on something I don't trust myself with." He sympathized. It was tough to come into trusting yourself as an artist, particularly one who had made countless mistakes on the up and up. It was faded, but he could recall running into his mother's studio and going bezerk with the amount of colors he found. Rubbing his chubby hands into her oils and smearing them against the wall. His father had screamed his throat raw, while his mom choked on her laughs beside him. A together family. He didn't think it was the amazement with the colors then that drew him to this aspiration, but rather the warmth he felt in that moment, one that couldn't be replicated again.
"You're extremely talented." He finally took a bite from his food, seeing Yuuji's shoulders relax from the corner of his eye. "I know you'll get over that fear eventually." Yuuji hummed and put his head in his fist. Doey amber eyes traced Megumi's face similar to how his camera did. He shook out his peachy locks and slid further into his chair. Megumi didn't get ansty like that, it simply wasn't in his nature. Ansty people drew eyes to them, the little fidgets made other's grow curious, and the attention was always meant to be on the art. The photographer had taken a final swig of his soup minutes ago, glancing up at the clock twice in the past three minutes. He was likely exhausted from being up since early dawn planning for this shoot, not to mention the editing. Megumi felt his heart dip slightly.
"You can go, I can see you becoming anxious." The man had to slide his head on the table to reach Megumi's eyes. He squinted in confusion.
"I mean yeah but, i'm not gonna just leave." He laughed softly. The waiter brought their bill to the table, as if disagreeing with the decision to stay longer. Yuuji slapped his money on the table and slid his head further. Megumi was getting the message and ate quickly. When finished, he considered texting Maki about a movie to watch that night when he'd get home, or plans to go out the next night clubbing with her digital media friends. It'd be sad to leave Yuuji behind, but this was nothing more than a circumstantial communion.
"I can have someone pick me up, my cousin lives near by and can drop me off-"
"You really do not like being in debt to someone huh?" He stood up and began to walk out, glancing back over to Megumi.
"I'm taking you home."
They'd been in the car together earlier, when Yuuji was frantically explaining his vision for the project and shoving silver glitter into Megumi's hands. The sun was trailing behind a peachy sky, and he could still embrace the warmth of the day. The day was nice, safe . The night was dangerous and unpredictable. No wonder Yuuji was eager to photograph it.
They were driving in silence. He wasn't sure which part of Yuuji was here right now. Obsessed black swan artist archetype, or calm college student. He looked gentle now as he drove. Whatever fireworks that exploded in his spirit a few hours ago fizzled out, leaving their quiet smoke remains behind. His baggy eyes glazed over the road as his speed barely met the road limit. It felt too slow, and at least ten minutes could be added to his ride home. Megumi couldn’t take the quiet anymore.
"How come you asked me to be in your project?"
Yuuji cocked his head and sped up slightly. Yeah, I fucked up.
"I don't know." He focused intently on their turn off the road.
"Oh."
Yuuji sputtered. "I mean it's, it's like, god I don't know how to say it but, you look like the night?"
"Excuse me?"
"Oh you know you're pale with this head of dark hair and hooded eyes, I mean." He was sputtering, a deep blush could be seen creeping onto his cheeks. Should Megumi feel flattered? It was hard not too, and he liked the hot feeling blooming in his chest.
"Thanks-"
"Did that come off weird?" This wasn't the suave college guy nor the intent artist. It was a vulnerable little opening, his own window into Yuuji's soul. The one muse the artist had so long for his subject could see clearly. It came together in a mesh of colors both warm and cold. Like the focused Yuuji was a harsh red and the easy going version he'd so long observed emitted cool blues. The colors that were blooming now were soft shades of purple. He could almost reach out and trace where it seemed to start, at the crevice of his neck in ropes of blush.
"No." He whispered. "You're an artist. I can see your praises for being artistic." A nervous laugh filled the car.
Megumi wanted to feel special, that the shoot had been intimate. The way the camera focused in on his eyes and the deep press of another body onto his. That'd be unique. Someone who Yuuji had done a double take for the way others did to him. Only now...
"I really mean that though. I wanted subjects who looked like the night, and who weren't afraid to feel like it either." Megumi thought he was just saying things now.
"What does that even mean?"
"It doesn't need to mean anything." The colors became brighter as the obsessive and Ego swirled together. He was growing energetic, but not in his usual people pleasing way.
"It simply means what I choose for it to mean, and how others can interpret it. Fuck, nothing needs to have meaning if i'm being honest, but it can have meaning to somebody. The night has meaning to me. It's when you can be free, when the light of the world so to say isn't glaring down onto you. True vulnerability lies in the night, that's when everything taboo comes out. People who kill, steal, cheat, make love, dance, and drink really live at night." His one hand tightened around the wheel while the other spun around in his rant.
"I mean I can't tell you how someone will look at the pictures, but that doesn't matter. Interpret it however you wish, but to me, this is my work at its most sincere. And to me, you're someone who's sincere. Who's honest to themselves and others even when it hurts."
Megumi felt that he was lying on an operating table. His chest slowly sliced open to reveal a raw heart, angrily pounding into the air. He couldn't even tell himself who he truly was, just someone going through the motions, perhaps that's why his art lacked any true soul. No substance, just the artist trying to fill up the space.
"That's a bold claim."
"I've seen you around." Yuuji said. A whirlwind of emotions in a matter of moments.
"You're so harsh on yourself, and you're dimming your own light, letting it shine only at night. I mean I got you in some glitter makeup and you were posing like a fucking top model contestant. You didn't think there's more to you?"
"I really can't tell you-"
"I see how you talk in class." Art history 102, with focus on 20th century works. "You're brutally honest about not only the art, but how you feel towards the artist. You have people clamoring for your opinion on their stuff cause they know you won't mince your words. You want others to see there's something more in them. Your friend Kugisaki right? I see her almost everyday in this program and she can only go on about how blunt you are."
"Oh so she hates me."
"See there! You're doing it again; leave yourself alone. She appreciates it too. You bring out the truth in people like how the night did to you. You're the fucking light from the moon that shows people their reality, don't you think that's incredible?"
Yuuji was clearly tired and had been throughout the night. Megumi wanted nothing more than to leave the car, to not have to think about Yuuji Itadori psychoanalyzing him. There's nothing more to his psyche that he could peer through and use for his project.
"I'm sorry." The other man said. "I think you're pretty interesting, and when this came up I knew I needed to have you in the project." There were words forming in Megumi's throat, a soft response to the photographer, something that could shield his emotions from breaking.
"No no." He squeezed out. "No, I appreciate it..." The truck pulled up outside of Megumi's apartment. It felt so dull compared to the buildings overlooking the lake. The Tokyo spirit was gone. He turned to grab his bag from the back and faced Yuuji again. His stomach dropped when he noticed the other man looking at him. The driver leaned off of the wheel and moved in, reaching up a thumb to wipe against Megumi's cheek. His finger swiped some extra glitter, and he wished the man a gentle goodnight as he left the car.
Megumi stumbled up to his apartment. Confused, drunk on the night, and with sharp tingles buzzing along his fingertips. What the fuck had just happened?
He couldn't say, but then and there inspiration struck. He ran up to the small office space transformed into an art studio. He scrambled for canvas and watercolors, heavy cold tones and bright warms. He needed to do this now while the image was still fresh in his mind. The image of a man obsessed with the vulnerable, laying out a small piece of his own soul before Megumi.
It was five months before they interacted again.
Yuuji remembered how the days blended together. His life jumped from work all day to partying all night, it helped to smother his problems with alcohol and weed. He'd catch Megumi in the halls from time to time. Thick black hair that swayed with his long strides. They made eye contact sometimes. His hooded blues stared for a moment, analyzing what they'd latch on, before rushing away,
Whatever sleep drunk rant he'd gone on the night of the shoot had done enough. He'd ask around with Kugisaki about the boy, eager to hear some form of information. She'd press her lips together in the way that pushed out her cheeks.
"Can't tell you much babe, he's been a bit m.i.a"
But he hadn't, not really. He'd seen him at bars from his place along the wall. In class offering his wisdom to their peers and chatting with their professor. He'd seen the man at coffee shops, at the paint store near campus, hell they almost ran into each other at the theater once. Well, "ran into" is a strong term, it was mainly Yuuji trailing the other into the movie he didn't pay for. But his curiosity grew insatiable, as it had always been about Megumi.
Finally, he received the invitation. Not from Megumi, but from the grapevine ending in Kugisaki who had heard it from her girlfriend Maki who had heard it from her best friend Yuuta who heard it slightly mentioned from Megumi when they hung out one night.
"Hung out like, hung out hung out or like weed after sex type of hang out?"
"Why the fuck are you asking me that like I would know?"
"You don't?"
"Of course I do but it's none of your business. Freak."
He'd grown obsessive again. The random thing of the week, month, year whatever that required every last bit of his undying attention. It's dangerous with people, he couldn't control them like how he could with photos. Photos bended to your will, to whatever position he wanted and what colors he desired. People were different, and though they needed all the touch ups in the world, it could never work like that.
He thought about scrapping the Megumi photos from the set. They'd gone through his usual process of high dynamic range editing, accentuating the colors in Megumi's eyes so they reflected the moon. But it felt too elegant. The soft sparkles along his lids like stars, the way the almond of his eyes framed the night so perfectly. It didn't fit with the stray animals and criminal adjacent people he had used in the rest of his exhibit. His advisor insisted he keep it. They strayed from his usual gritty style, presenting the photographer's own vulnerability.
"You wanted to show all of the night, no?" Geto was so pretentious sometimes, but he'd always betted on Yuuji's vision.
"But it's a stray in the rest of the showcase."
"So?" He took a drag from his cigarette. "When has that ever bothered you? What happened to going against the norms?"
"What norms now?"
"Your own."
And so he kept them, but only the one just of his eye. Another one of Megumi's whole face, he printed for himself. It was the final photo in the set. Megumi took up the frame, sharp bones bathed in moonlight and fading sparkles. He had the faintest hint of blush growing under his milky skin, and a sleepy smile pushing up his lips. Yuuji packaged a copy in a cream envelope and shoved it into his jacket in lieu of flowers.
The exhibit was focusing on the drawings and paintings of advanced students. Much of it were portraits of loved ones, traditional drawings of fruit and landscapes, boring shit to Yuuji. A piece based around an old story in the Kojiki caught his eyes with its dramatic streaks of red. One painting examined gender violence within the education system, while another visualized climate change through the life of a bonsai. Bold artistic takes that stole his attention, until he came towards the end of the gallery.
A gaggle of students surrounded a slightly larger canvas. He could see the dark sky with washed out neon along the edges over their heads. A girl turned around quickly, doing so again when she caught sight of him. She eagerly whispered into her friend's ear, who parted the way for Yuuji to observe. His breath caught in his throat at the sight.
It was a man, well, men, in red hoodies. In the far setting was a bridge connecting to the tail end of downtown Tokyo. A silky river was rolled right alongside the building and grassy terrain under it. Part of the man sat on the hill, hunched over a computer with a camera by his right foot. His back was shrunken in, but he was warm. The glow from the computer was a soft red light that painted the bags under his eyes. He looked focused, much more focused than anyone might assume him to be.
But there was an essence growing from him. Another man, not as filled in as the one sitting, as if it were the spirit leaving his tired body. The spirit of the man had a wide grin, head thrown back in laughter as shades of blue ran up his body. He was zealous in the night, but he was nothing more than a detached spirit floating up towards the edge of the canvas; leaving behind all the passion and stress that kept him alive. Where they met it was purple. Lavender, violet, amethyst, and Indigo. Brighter than the neon of Tokyo could ever wish to be. So many deep colors that struck Yuuji and reeled him in, he could see himself lost in the painting. Floating along the static water into the crystalline skyline. But that was the point wasn't it? His free, roaming soul was getting lost in the night.
"You know I wasn't too sure about the hair color but, I think it works." He spun around to face the artist. Megumi's eyelids hung low and strained to stay up. His bowtie was done haphazardly over a wrinkled shirt. His shoulders were swimming in an untailored blazer. But his eyes, sapphire circles of light, pushed through.
"No no, it's beautiful." It was. He'd seen Megumi's works of fine lines and detailed faces. But this one was rough around the edges and smeared in the middle, still his most stunning work yet.
"I thought it'd be something you'd like. It's a bit more raw."
"...How long did this take you?" Megumi pursed his lips and shoved his hands into his pockets.
"I can't be too sure. I worked on it in this manic frenzy that night." That night.
“And then kinda left it. Inspiration would come and go, honestly I don't even think it's completely finished."
"How come?"
Sapphire eyes narrowed into the portrait, tracing curves and lines that etched from missteps. Yuuji saw the original colors beneath the blend of purples, some now dim greens and pinks. Megumi's vision still came through in an eccentric way.
"I wanted to put a face in the middle. Kind of calm but with bright eyes, that was the plan but-" He reached for his pockets once more. An odd silence settled between them. Yuuji followed the blush crawling up the other's cheeks. Flustered and embarrassed, Megumi started to turn around before he was stopped.
"I wanted to get you a copy of the photos." Yuuji took out the envelope and almost shoved it into Megumi's hand. He watched the painter rip it open almost elegantly, removing the photo. His whole face took up the picture. Enclosed with skin were those eyes, ones Yuuji had taken the liberty to make slight tweaks too. The blue was significantly enhanced, almost an ocean neon, with the moon practically replacing his pupil. The glitter halo emphasized the colors, hues of the night as Yuuji called it in his exhibition. Blush exploded on Megumi's face, who trembled slightly with the photo in hand. Taking a deep breath, he pocketed the picture.
"It's beautiful. You're a true talent."
"Don't sell yourself short." He began to walk away, glancing back once more.
“I’m gonna assume that you’ll need a ride home right?”
He smiled as they dashed out of the exhibit, letting the cold wing cut through their suits. Yuuji grabbed Megumi's hand and steered him towards his car.
"You look really nice blushing, maybe that's my new project."
'What?"
"The hues of a mortifying realization." He spun Megumi around in the road, eliciting giggles from his raven counterpart. He let go of his hand and grabbed Megumi’s bicep, pulling in the leaner man and wrapping his arm around his shoulder.
Megumi was a breath of fresh air lost in a navy palette. If his medium was purple, then his companion's was the darkest shades of blue. The ones that wrapped around the moon and allowed for the sun's light to reflect. A medium, a true muse, and one Yuuji would never get enough of.