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The camera flash was hardly noticeable in the wintry light, but it scared the pigeons off anyway. "Thank you for your co-operation," said Izuru, smiling. The subject of his shot, a young female jogger, tried to smile back, hesitant and unsure of just what she had let herself in for in allowing a stranger to take her photo. Izuru tried to reassure her. "If you're having second thoughts, please, tell me. I won't use the photo if you're uncomfortable. Though I'll admit I'd love to keep it – new mothers have so much joy, and that really came through."
The young woman stared at him. "How did you know I recently had a baby?"
Izuru looked embarrassed. "You had such a glow about you – I couldn't help but think of motherhood. It was what led me to approach you for a picture in the first place." He held his camera up questioningly. "May I keep the photo?" The young woman blushed and nodded. Izuru bowed slightly, thanking her again and letting her resume her interrupted exercise. Then he turned and followed the path in the opposite direction.
It was a good day so far, one of his better ones. Then again, any day where he was free to do what he enjoyed at his own pace was good. Unlike doing shoots for magazine advertisements where more often that not he was stuck in a studio with glaring lights and temperamental models, this kind of photography was genuine and raw. To see a person, to catch their personality and life in a single picture without artificial enhancement or posing, that was what Izuru enjoyed and was so adept at. Ordinary people, made exceptional by a camera lens – his camera lens. It was one of Shigure's jokes that Izuru had an extra eye that could see inside people, and that was as good a description as any.
Izuru smiled to himself as he thought of his partner. He wondered what Shigure with his detective's way of thinking would make of the people in the photos today. Izuru had chosen them for the picture they made in the world, or a spark of personality that attracted attention the way lights attracted moths. To keep the pictures as natural as possible some of them hadn't known they were having their photo taken until after the fact, but thankfully all of them had been good sports about it. Izuru knew through past experience that some people could object rather violently to candid pictures.
It was getting late. There were fewer people in the park than there had been an hour ago, and the shadows were noticeably longer as the weak winter sun touched the upper limits of the city skyline. Izuru quickened a little as he passed the lake, its water grey and reflecting an open sky. Snow had not yet arrived, but it was cold enough that tiny ice crystals had formed about the reeds and around the shoreline like fragile flowers. Izuru shivered, rubbing his hands together for warmth, ducking off the path to take a shortcut through the trees. He had to organise dinner tonight, dinner for two unless rotten luck created some emergency that would keep Shigure at work late … he knocked his knuckles against a low branch to ward off that thought. Shigure would finish on time tonight, and Izuru would cook something. Something warm and filling, and a sweet dessert. Maybe some tiramisu from that cake-shop near their apartment—?
It was then that Izuru saw the man.
Izuru couldn't say what it was that had first arrested his attention. Even when he thought about it afterwards, he was unable to say exactly. Perhaps it was interest in seeing another person in this isolated corner of the park. Perhaps it was the picture the figure made, sheltered beneath skeletal branches. Perhaps it was something else. Whatever it was, it prompted Izuru to halt just behind the bole of a tree, completely forgetting about the cold and dinner, and take another look. The man was young, probably mid-twenties at the most, and was wearing a long pale coat. Streams of smoke coiled about him like insubstantial grey vines from the cigarette between his fingers, making him seem somewhat otherworldly. He stood almost with his back to Izuru, facing the horizon over which night was slowly creeping. Izuru wondered if he was watching the city lights, or if he was waiting for someone, but his posture didn't seem to fit either of those hypotheses. Actually it seemed more like the man was standing lost in thought or memory …
The wind picked up. The young man flinched as it blew into him. As Izuru watched, the young man lifted a slim hand to shield his eyes and turned around, revealing his face at last … and for a moment Izuru forgot how to breathe.
I have to get a picture of him.
It was a single thought, crystalline and sharp. Fumbling, Izuru dug numb hands into his carry bag, not daring to take his eyes away from the tableau before him. Physically the young man was exquisite; he had features that were as fine as any woman's and a slenderness that would be the envy of many of the models Izuru had worked with. Raven black hair contrasted with a fair, almost white complexion, stark as calligraphy strokes on paper … but there was more than that, so much more. His eyes, they were what stood out the most. Even from his position Izuru could see that they were a strange shade of emerald green, dark and yet strangely light, like the sun reflected at the bottom of a clear forest pool. And there was something within that, something sad, something hauntingly lovely … Izuru was reminded of a bird he had had once, a wounded bird whose wings never healed enough for it to fly. He wondered who or what had broken this young man's wings.
It was only an idle wonder. He had to get a picture.
There were still four shots left on the black-and-white film. Izuru rewound it, carefully removed the spool from the camera and put it in the black film container. Sure, black and white was a great medium for still life shots but the man's eyes … no, this was a picture that wanted colour, or at least some sort of filter. Somehow Izuru managed to pull out the other film without looking away from his target however the operation of actually loading the film forced him to turn away. Izuru prayed that the young man would hold his pose in the wind for just a little longer, a minute, not even that, please, please … he muffled the camera as best he could as the film was taken in, then all was ready. The young man hadn't moved significantly.
Izuru crouched on the ground. Cold seeped through his jeans as he sighted through the camera lens. The composition of this picture, the tree at the edge, branches reaching over the young man like a canopy as he gazed outside the frame … carefully Izuru adjusted the camera focus, trying to bring up the man's face, no flash for this, the sunset should be enough and oh, he wanted those shadows … it was a perfect picture, the kind he could only capture in his dreams. Izuru's finger moved to press the shutter—
"Beautiful, isn't he."
Izuru jumped, nearly dropping the camera. He spun around to confront the speaker who had seemingly appeared from nowhere – and stared in bemusement. The speaker was a man older than he, perhaps early thirties, and tall with dark hair. He was dressed in a black suit over which he wore a long black overcoat that fell about him like a liquid shadow, and despite the fading light he was wearing sunglasses. Izuru told his heart to stop pounding and leaned back against the tree for support. "Whoa. You scared me."
The man smiled. It was not a reassuring expression. "You were so intent on what you were doing; I don't think you would have heard a car crash." He tilted his head slightly to look past Izuru. "Do you like what you see?"
Slowly, Izuru turned to look over his shoulder. The young man was still there, but now he was looking around, his distant expression gone and replaced by something wary. Izuru felt a pang of disappointment – the moment was lost. Amazingly the young man hadn't seen Izuru or the stranger. Izuru thought it was because they were hidden behind the trees. "Yeah," he admitted quietly. "He's a piece of art."
The man's smile never changed. His gaze was fixed on the slim figure beneath the trees. "Unique."
"You know him?" asked Izuru.
"Oh, yes." The man's voice made Izuru think of dark chocolate. "I know him well. For a very long time now."
Ah. A boyfriend. Izuru grinned sheepishly, holding up his camera. "Well, I hope you don't mind me looking; he just makes such a gorgeous picture. I'm a photographer, see, I do magazine shoots and studies and he caught my attention, so …" He trailed off. The man's sunglasses had turned to focus back on him. The eyes behind them were hidden, but Izuru could feel the weight of their gaze, heavy and unrelenting, as if he were being covered in a suffocating shroud. The hair on the back of Izuru's neck stood up.
"In the state of Qi in ancient China, there was an official who presumed to stare at the exceptional beauty of his lord," said the man softly. "For such bold lust the lord ordered his execution. Before the execution could take place, however, the lord's advisor intervened. The advisor said that desire could not be helped, and although the official was caused to lust after his lord, it was not fitting that he should be killed. On this advice, the official was pardoned."
Izuru couldn't move. He felt as if he were a deer staring down the barrel of a gun. The man smiled. "For that reason, I will spare your life. But remember," he added, and the smile beneath the sunglasses suddenly turned sharp and dangerous, "I have no advisor. Covet what is marked as mine again, and you might not be so lucky."
Izuru swallowed tightly. "I understand."
The man's smile never wavered. Then … he was no longer there.
Izuru blinked. Hurriedly he pulled himself up and looked around in what was left of the light. He couldn't see anyone. It was as if the man had simply faded into the shadows. Which was an impossible notion, of course, people didn't do that … still, Izuru felt no inclination to go exploring into the dark corners to make sure. He had the shivery feeling that he wouldn't like what he found.
He turned around again. The young man was also gone.
For a moment Izuru stood there, useless camera in hand, trying to grasp what it was he had brushed up against. His pulse was racing, he realized with some unease, as if he had just overexerted himself at the gym. Then his cell-phone rang. Izuru answered it with trembling hands. "Hello?"
"Where are you?"
Izuru's face broke into a smile. "Hello, Mae. I'm at Ueno Park and don't worry, I'm already on my way home. Are you at work?"
"Just got home, actually. Ayako ordered Kobayashi to order me to clock off, and by my count you should be home already. Did you get distracted again, sempai?"
"I love it how you only call me 'sempai' when you're irritated. Yes, I got distracted; I'll tell you about it when I get back."
"Be quick. I'll have dinner ready."
"Okay. I'll see you soon."
"Bye. Love you."
The call ended. Izuru put the phone away, feeling oddly warm despite the cold and shadows. Funny how a single phone-call from his partner could do that.
There were lights beyond the trees. Slinging his camera bag into a more comfortable position over his shoulder, Izuru headed towards them at a fast stroll, mentally plotting the shortest course that would take him past the cake-shop. Photos, lost opportunities, beautiful subjects with intimidating significant others, they could all be dealt with later. Right now, someone was waiting for Izuru to come home.
+ owari +