Work Text:
Though he loathed to admit it, Amane was at a low point. He’d conquered many an artist’s block across his career, but this one was quite persistent. No matter what he tried, he found himself staring down a blank canvas again and again. What an embarrassment. What a disgrace! This was not the sort of thing that had earned his prolific reputation. Could he still call himself an artist? His commissions came out through enough brute force, but when it came to passion projects, the spark had simply vanished.
He lacked the heart to tell his dear little boys, the adoptees and apprentices that skittered through his sprawling studio. But they seemed to notice all on their own. He supposed it wasn’t that difficult to notice. Amane was plenty aware of his over-the-top personality, it was one of the things he was best known for, next to his art. When he moved through the rooms with a dull, listless shine in his eyes, it was clear something was amiss. Still, he offered them soft assurances, and encouraged their own works while he struggled to complete his own.
“No, no, no! This isn’t coming out right at all!”
Another week, another subject summarily hired and fired, with only a half-done drawing to show for it. Some part of him had hoped that the key to his missing passion was a new art subject, something new and invigorating to catch his interest. Though he’d made his reputation capturing the beautiful intricacies of the human body, he had tried in desperation to branch out and find something else to be passionate about, only to come back to his roots. The flowers and buildings he painted were pleasant, from an aesthetic viewpoint, but they lacked the soul he strove to put into every masterpiece. The same could be said for the new subjects his apprentices would fetch. Many of them were perfectly lovely, but something about them just couldn’t capture the spark he was looking for. None of them lasted more than a few days.
Maybe…maybe there was something he was still missing. Maybe he had spent too much time in the studio? He’d always warned his boys about social withdrawal and spending too much alone, perhaps he needed to follow his own advice…
“I’ll be back soon. Keep an eye on one another, alright?”
There had to be something…someone that could motivate him to paint once more. This was a large city, there had to be at least one person to capture his interest. After meandering the streets for a brief while, Amane decided to head to a nearby park. At the very least, he could use the fresh air.
As it tended to be, the park was filled with all sorts of people. Amane took them all in, flitting back and forth to see if any garnered his interest. Children giggled and chased each other across the playground (such a pleasant energy, but children didn’t like sitting still for the hours it could take to paint them). A pavilion currently hosted a gaggle of happy people- a family reunion, a birthday? (A beautiful sight, but he wasn’t sure that was an energy he could capture. Even if he was, it felt rude to interrupt their merrymaking). Chess players, bird-feeders, sunbathers, trail-hikers. None of them took his attention for more than a few moments.
At the other end of the park sat a public amphitheater. The stage was empty of any performers or musicians, but the steps were occupied by a cluster of young men, shirtless and sweaty, running up and down in repetition.
Amane contemplated taking out his sketchbook for all of five seconds, only to collapse on a nearby bench with a sigh of frustration. This was precisely where he had been stuck. At first, he had been drawn to those statuesque bodies, but now it just felt so…repetitive? The same hourglass shape, the same plucked-hairless skin, utterly unblemished, only disrupted by the sickeningly perfect contours of muscle in the exact same layout. Like a perfectly sculpted mannequin, already an artistic display on its own as it was shown off to the public.
It was perfect. And Amane hated that perfection. He’d drawn it so many times that he was utterly sick of it. A potential patron barely, if ever, wanted a painting of someone who lacked that doll-like perfection.
He sighed again. He turned away to fish for something out of his bag, only to be startled by the sight of an unfamiliar little girl at his side.
If he jolted back in shock, she completely ignored it. She was far too busy picking at the fancy beaded designs on his shoulderbag and the cartoonish amount of handmade craft-fair keyrings that dangled off of the zippers.
“A-ah, hello, young lady!” After his moment of panic, he tried to greet her politely. She did look quite young, he assumed the sheer number of sparkly things had gotten her attention. “Do you like my bag? I made it myself!”
She looked up at him, then back down. “This shit’s got way too many colors. Are you a woman?”
“I-” Despite himself, Amane couldn’t hold in his laughter. “I’m sorry?”
“Luna! For goodness’ sake, don’t be so rude to people!”
The girl spun around, making the skirt of her princess dress poof up, and stuck her tongue out. “Get stuffed, sissy-gami, you’re not my dad!”
From the stream of sidewalk pedestrians came a harried-looking man, whose hands were both occupied by holding onto two other children that seemed to be about the girl’s age. He kept a close eye on the both of them, as though expecting they would immediately run off in separate directions if he let go.
The little girl crossed her arms and scowled. “I don’t wanna be on the playground! I wanna play in the fountain!”
“Luna, you’re not supposed to play in the fountain. There’s a sign that says ‘do not swim’ right on it. If you and Sena and Carl all want to leave, then we can, but don’t run off like that!”
Amane tried his best to not intrude on their personal business, although neither of the strangers had much in the way of volume control. He glanced off in every direction, trying to distract himself, but the only time his attention settled was when he actually looked at the strange man’s face. That seemed counterintuitive to what he’d been trying to do, but anything they were saying was blocked out as Amane suddenly found himself distracted.
It was as though a light had switched on in his head. That little creative spark, catching kindling and sending his brain ablaze. This was it! This man, something about him, had already caught Amane’s attention. He was certainly well-defined, but there was a distinct ruggedness that his other subjects had lacked. The long, shaggy hair that hung in clustered spikes, calloused hands, and what looked like a jagged set of scars cutting across his face. Goodness, he could even spot little tufts of dark hair on his flanks…which made Amane all the more aware of the man’s strange ensemble. The shirtless men who ran around the park were certainly wearing less, objectively, but something about the peeks of skin that came through the man’s open jacket and the holes in his pants legs were…in a way Amane couldn’t quite explain, a touch erotic.
Before he realized it, his would-be muse was already walking away with the children. Amane nearly dropped his bag as he sprinted after them.
“You! You there!”
After a few shouts, the man realized he was the one being spoken to. He slowed, turning around with a look of shame on his face.
“L-look, I’m sorry, sir, I know she’s a little out of hand. I promised my neighbor I’d look after her kids for the afternoon, and I thought the park would be a good spot, but it makes them so much easier to lose-”
“No, no,” Amane waved him down. “That’s not it at all. This may be strange to ask out of the blue, but would you have any interest in modeling?”
“...Huh?”
“He said ‘modeling,’ Mr. Bang.” One of the boys said, a cute little blond bespectacled thing. “I think he wants to take your picture.”
“Sort of! Sort of, not quite.” The fact that none of them appeared to know of him stung a bit, but the brewing excitement made it easy to brush off. “I’m a painter, actually, and I’d love to have you model for me. I’d be quite happy to pay you for your time. Would you be willing to come by my studio?”
The man looked at him, then to the children he had in tow. “I should not leave these ones on their own…”
“Oh, of course! It would take me time to properly set things up, anyway. Are there any days this week that you would be available?”
“I suppose…I think I have no tasks scheduled for Thursday?”
“Thursday! Absolutely perfect! Here, take this,” Amane handed him a business card. “My address and contact information! I’ll be waiting with bated breath! And I’ll be sure to have my apprentices anticipate your arrival, Mr…Bang, yes?”
He nodded, with a bit more enthusiasm. “Bang. Bang Shishigami. I’ll do my best to be prudent.”
“Are you done blabbering?” Luna crossed her arms again. “I wanna leave!”
“Alright, alright, we can leave. Sorry again for the interruption, sir. I hope we haven’t caused you too much trouble.”
++++++
2664 Meika Avenue, home of the Uzume Art Studio. At least, that was what the business card and the building’s sign said. Bang was certain he would have been able to spot it, even without the street address. It definitely reminded him of that Amane fellow, the numerous hanging displays and sculptures lining the sidewalk had a very similar energy.
This was a more upscale part of town that he wasn’t quite used to, the kind with expensive bakeries and gazebos and wrought-iron fences. No wonder he had no idea who the guy was, this was way fancier than the sort of things he was familiar with. It didn’t quite feel like he belonged. He had defaulted to his usual set of clothes, but now he was wondering if he should have found something fancier for the occasion.
After several more moments of hemming and hawing, he approached the elaborately-painted door and let himself in. There was something like a lobby, but no person behind the desk. There was, at least, a bell, which he approached and rang.
“Hello!”
Bang stifled a yelp. From behind the desk appeared a blue-haired boy in an incredibly elaborate-looking and even more expensive-looking kimono. And he looked fully aware of the nasty shock he had just given.
“Hehe! No need to panic, mister! How can I help you?”
“U-uh, yeah-” Maybe this hadn’t been a good idea… “I’m looking for Nishiki? He asked me to come. For- for an art thing.”
“‘Art thing…’ oh!” The boy nodded. “Of course! Sensei said someone would be coming. Follow me, I’ll show you the main studio.”
The inside of the building was just as colorful as the outside. The boy in the kimono led him down a long, wide hallway, covered almost floor-to-ceiling with painted canvases. Wherever Bang looked, there was something different and beautiful to see. No clear pattern among them- flowers, buildings, people, animals, abstract work- and all in different styles. The only unifying theme? Color, and lots of it.
“Did he paint all of these?”
“Sensei? Oh, no, all the ones on display here are done by the other apprentices and I. He very much insists on displaying our work for the patrons.”
“Aha, I see. Like a father putting art on a fridge?”
Something about that made the boy fluster. “I guess so, heh. Most of us are his foster children, so I suppose it fits. He’s really a wonderful tutor. And a wonderful father figure! Many of us would be lost without him and his guidance.”
Bang wasn’t especially familiar with art or the art world, but he could definitely appreciate that much. “I will be truthful, I wasn’t sure about the whole modeling thing…”
“I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. As I said, he’s wonderful.” The boy stopped at a closed door, raised a hand, and knocked. “Sensei! The new muse is here!”
Amane sat up at his easel. “Oh, coming!”
“You were expecting someone?”
“Perhaps not this early, I should have planned this out better. My apologies.” He put down his brush and palette, eagerly hurrying to the door. “Welcome, welcome! I’m very happy to see you took me up on my offer, Mr. Shishigami!”
“I thought I’d at least give it-” The man stepped inside, but his vision drifted over Amane’s shoulder. “Erm…is this a bad time?”
“A simple schedule slip, that’s all.” Amane turned his head. “Again, I’m sorry for the mistake, dear. Would you be willing to cut this session short?”
“Eh. Sure, I was gettin’ a Charlie Horse, anyway.” The woman replied, sitting up and stretching out.
Bullet, one of the few art subjects he hadn’t yet fired. From a brief glance, she seemed all the things he had grown tired of, a flawlessly beautiful body, but Amane knew better than that one quick look. He’d grown fond of attempting to capture her less ‘ladylike’ traits. The powerful arms, the wonderfully-maintained abdominals, the thin, gnarled scar that cut across the bridge of her nose, and the indomitable, steely glint in her eyes. It alone had almost been enough to carry him across the chasm of artist’s block. So close, and yet…not quite. He still paid her handsomely, though.
When he turned back to his new subject, Amane noted he still looked somewhat confused…well, confused, and more than a bit embarrassed.
“Is something wrong, Mr. Shishigami?”
“Hey, Nishiki,” Bullet said, slinging the towel-slip over her shoulder. “My clothes are in the same locker, right?”
Amane was a veteran artist, and certainly not unfamiliar with most aspects of the human form. He saw them as simply more aspects to be captured in art, and after so long, he rarely if ever even blinked at nudity of any kind. He’d forgotten that wasn’t something everyone else was as familiar with.
He tried to dispel the situation before it chased Shishigami away. “Yes, yes, they’re in the same bin. Please change in the stall this time.”
“Sure, sure.” She casually sauntered off.
Bang had a hand up to cover Bullet as she left. “I-I, uh…am I supposed to get naked for this?”
“Oh my,” Amane vehemently shook his head. “Of course not! Nothing at that level. What I had in mind was no more provocative than your usual attire. I’d like to capture you as you are. If you’re more willing later, we could try something more experimental, but I wouldn’t trick you into something like that.”
Something about this already had him excited. Amane eagerly guided the man over to his abandoned set. “Take a seat, if you would?”
“Uh, right here?” Bang found a spot on the chaise-like seat and settled down. He looked up at Amane for approval.
“Perfect, positively perfect.” Oh, he could already feel his long-dried creative juices bursting free again. “Just tilt your head down a tad, but keep your eyes in my direction. Let’s see, let’s see…”
In his excitement, Amane nearly skidded past his easel. A fresh, blank canvas replaced Bullet’s half-done portrait. He reached for a pencil.
“Could you put your arm along the back? Yes, yes, you’re a natural, darling.” Trying to capture this sense of ruggedness was going to be a challenge, but he had never shied away from that before. And besides, if he failed the first time or two, that just meant he had an excuse to have Bang come back and pose for him again.