Work Text:
The artist is the creator of beautiful things.
That is what Oscar Wilde wrote in the preface of his novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray.
Ena was an artist. Yes, that was true in a way.
But what exactly was an artist anymore? What exactly made Ena an “artist” ? Did Ena truly create beautiful things? For, to be an artist, you must have the talent, right?
The critic is he who can translate into another manner or a new material his impression of beautiful things.
Ena was also a critic.
Critical of others, of course. But, who she was more critical of was herself. She herself was her biggest critic. When other people had found beauty in her art, Ena had always noticed the smallest of mistakes and flaws, in herself and in her own art. Blinded by those mistakes, she was unable to see the true beauty of her own art.
The highest as the lowest form of criticism is a mode of autobiography. Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault.
Ena knew she was filled with faults. They were all over her body, all over her art, they were to be found anywhere in and out of her, and in of the things she created. That is, at least what she believed.
Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these there is hope.
Ena couldn’t help but think of Mizuki. How could somebody who has suffered so quietly and for such a long time still be able to find beauty when Ena had such a difficult time in doing so? Do they not ever feel anger for themselves? Why should they suffer in silence, without even doing anything wrong?
Ena only wanted to get closer to them. To help them. She knew there was still hope for them.
She would wait forever for them.
That was another fault of Ena’s– her ever-present stubbornness.
But, if she could finally be with Mizuki… Maybe, just maybe…
Could she see the beauty that Mizuki so effortlessly saw?
Ena said a quick goodbye to her fellow members, logging off of Nightcord for the day. Yet another tiring day after so many previous tiring days. There was never a day Ena allowed herself to rest. To rest means to stop, and she couldn’t stop.
No, not yet. She couldn’t stop yet. She needed to practice just a little more.
There was no need for rest until she was finally satisfied with her art. But… exactly to what point will she be satisfied? There was no amount Ena could conjure up. Sure, she wished more people would recognize her as the artist she is… but… to what point will she finally be happy?
Enough thinking. Back to working.
Well, actually… There was not much work to do in Nightcord so maybe she could continue on that painting.
No… It’s not a painting yet, it’s just a mere sketch as of right now. It wouldn’t be right to call this a painting.
She sat in front of the easel, studying the canvas. It was unfinished, but it was a sketch of a figure slowly sinking down, reaching up to… something. Ena had no idea where to go with it, she only sat there and stared, rummaging around her mind for ideas and ultimately reaching dead end after dead end.
“This… This isn’t working out…” She began to grit her teeth a little, her frustration slowly rising each second she stared at the canvas. This wasn’t going to be yet again another failure– scrapped and thrown away without a second thought. If it doesn’t work out immediately, then maybe she just had to end it all before a “beginning” even happened. There was no use in fighting a losing war after all.
…Was it really all so hopeless?
Of course, it is! I need to come up with an idea I know will work out amazingly! I shouldn’t be focusing on yet another failure! There was no room for failure. She had to make an artwork that would finally be enough. Enough for recognition, for acclaim, for attention… If she could make an art piece that could finally get people to recognize her talent… Then maybe…
What talent? A voice sounded in her head. An unwelcome thought.
“You don’t have the talent to become an artist.”
She remembered her dad saying when she was back in junior high. Even though they had sort of made up after that, those words remained with her. Every single time she had any doubts about herself and her art, the words her father told her that day always found their way back into her thoughts.
“That’s it…” She takes the canvas and throws it in the garbage, taking up the whole space. She dusted her hands and let out a sigh. “I just… need to make another one. Maybe then I’ll find what I’m looking for.”
But, before she can, she gets a notification on her phone. Taking her phone from the bed, she saw that it was a message from Mizuki.
Amia Today at 2:54 AM
You up???? Can we call?
Ena didn’t exactly want to, but… She could honestly use the company as of right now. Even if Mizuki was pretty annoying sometimes, she still felt something for them. Especially after seeing that look on their face after the mystery tour. A weird sort of feeling that was somewhere between affection and worry.
After that mystery tour, everything changed.
Even after the picnic, Ena still didn’t feel like she was getting anywhere closer to understanding them. No matter how many times Ena told them how much they cared, it was like they didn’t even acknowledge it! It was pretty frustrating sometimes, but…
Although… She could use this call as an opportunity to understand them better. Mizuki never usually called Ena out of the blue like this, so, it could be something important! …Or it could just be Mizuki looking to tease Ena once again.
Despite that, Ena still accepted the call anyway.
“Enanan~” Mizuki’s voice spoke sing-songily on the other line.
“Did you want something?” Ena put on her annoyed tone, trying to hide her other intentions. “If you’re calling me so suddenly like this, you better not be asking me for a favor!”
“Hey!- If I was, I’d message!” They chuckled. “I kinda just called you for no reason at all, just wanted to talk. Whatcha doing right now?”
“Working on a painting…” Not exactly… as she had already thrown it away.
“Ooh! Can I see it?”
Ena stayed silent for a moment. “It’s a work-in-progress.”
“Aw… C’mon, Enanan!” They pleaded in an obnoxious tone. “Let me see it!”
“Why are you so persistent?!” Ena huffed, her anger starting to rise once again.
“I’m kidding.” Ena could hear Mizuki giggle on the other end. “You probably scrapped it already, didn’t you?”
“How did you-”
“You’re like an open book, Ena. Why did you throw it away?” Mizuki’s tone became weirdly caring. Which was sort of uncanny to Ena.
Why? There were a lot of reasons why.
Ena fell to her bed and held the phone to her ear. “I just… It wasn’t right, there was something wrong with it, okay?”
“Then show it to me.”
“What?”
“Show me the painting.”
“But– It’s only just a sketch…”
“Just show me the painting, Enanan.”
Ena put the phone down, and after some hesitation, she got up and turned on her camera. She panned the camera to the canvas that was in the trash can, making sure Mizuki could see it properly.
“Pick it up,” Mizuki said.
With her free hand, she brought the canvas out of the trash can and laid it on the floor, making sure it was in focus of the camera. “So?”
“Ena…” Mizuki sighed. “Where’s the problem? I don’t see any.”
“How could you not?!” She raised her voice, but she breathed in and out and went a little calmer. “I just… I have no idea where to go next. I created the sketch, and then I don’t know what else I should add. I have no image in mind of what I want the end product to be.”
“Can’t you just let it simmer a little, then?”
“Simmer?”
“Leave the painting alone for a bit, an idea could come within time. You don’t have to give up on it so easily. The sketch is beautiful, Ena.”
The phone nearly fell out of her hands, hearing Mizuki call what she at first thought was just another piece of garbage beautiful . Did… Did her heart flutter a little bit there?
“But… But, I don’t think this one is it, this isn’t good enough-” Ena got cut off by Mizuki before she could continue with her self-doubts.
“Believe in yourself a little more, Ena. You do have talent! You’re the most talented artist I know!”
God, Ena wanted to stop hearing it already. She already heard those words a million times.
“There’s no fixing it.” Ena sat on the floor. “You can’t convince me with some “believe in yourself” magic again, Mizuki.”
Mizuki stayed silent for a few seconds… Then they spoke. “Then… Where do you think you’re going? In the same way, you start with the final piece in mind when you create your art, how do you view yourself in the end? What does your painting look like, Ena?”
“I…” Dumbstruck, Ena had to think for a few seconds. Again, she rummaged and rummaged in her mind to come up with an answer. “I want to be known for my art… To not be looked down upon, to be finally be understood of my talent. To finally be appreciated by others for my efforts…”
“Is that truly all there is to it? Describe it like a painting, Ena. What’s the scenery? What are the colors?”
“Colors…?” Pink. All I see is pink. “Gray.” She answered instead. “A dull gray. I see myself on a stage, being awarded for an artwork, giving a speech to an entire audience… But… there’s something that’s still missing…”
“There we are.” Ena could sense the smile on their face through the phone. “It’s not entirely about the recognition, is it? Something… more deep-rooted.”
Ena stared off into a wall. “Then… what is my painting missing?”
“Just keep creating, Ena. I’m sure the answer will reveal itself soon. You’ll be able to see the colors when you finally understand.”
The colors… Ena thought.
“Thanks, Mizuki… You called at a good time. I’ll… I’ll work on the painting again.”
“Hehe, there’s my Ena.” Mizuki yawned. “I’ll be going now then. Don’t keep yourself up working on the painting, okay? Maybe you’ll have some fresh ideas in the morning. Bye~” They disconnected from the call, so Ena did too.
Now Ena was alone again.
She took the canvas and placed it back on the easel, picking up her paintbrush and palette.
She finally came up with what she wanted the painting to look like in the end.
Her thoughts, colored in pink. She wanted it to all be pink.
Her ending, in the colors of pink and gray.