Chapter Text
Sakomi Suzuki sighed as she put down her mixing board, and looked at the large canvas she's been working on for the last two hours. Her latest piece was almost complete and soon she'd be ready for her upcoming show. She was incredibly excited to finally show off her work to others, but nervous because the work was so personal.
Especially the piece she was about to finish. It was a large portrait of an inhumanly beautiful man... although Sakomi personally thought that calling the being a "man" was stretching it a little.
After all...men didn't have horns.
The being in the painting was tall and regal with incredibly pale skin, pointed ears, black hair, and a pair of curved black horns coming out of his head. He had chartreuse eyes that reminded one of a dragon and even as just a painting, there was a dark regal air about him. One look and you knew he was royalty.
Sakomi sighed as she looked at the piece. It was a dreamy sigh rather than one of exhaustion. It was an amazing feeling to finally bring the man she'd been dreaming of for several years to life by her own hand. It was as if he'd sprung fully formed from her head to the paintbrushes.
"... I wish...." Her voice was full of longing as she gazed at her work. "...oh, how I wish you were real."
Sakomi's life had changed significantly in the past few years. Her abusive fiance had died in a mysterious car crash, freeing her (and her fortune) and allowing her to finally pursue her dreams of being an artist. She'd bought herself a studio and had gotten to work, finding inspiration in an interesting place: her best friend Misako Nobori.
After Misako had been humiliated out of her dance class at the Rose Conservatory, she gave up on music and dance entirely, falling into a deep depression and withdrawing from the school. She eventually moved into Sakomi's new penthouse, living a mostly reclusive life. It was then that Misako began to tell her about the dreams she'd had since that awful night, of a magical school in a faraway place...and all the interesting people she'd met.
Some of it had sounded familiar to Sakomi and soon, she found herself sketching while Misako talked. And it was then that Sakomi had gotten an idea for her very first art show.
A show that was only a few weeks away.
Realizing this, Sakomi got off the ladder she'd been using to help her reach some of the higher parts of the canvas and began to get ready to clean up and go get herself some food. The paint needed time to cure before she added varnish, and the break would do her some good.
"I can't wait to unveil you at my show," She said to the portrait. "You're going to be one of the centerpieces, it's going to be so exciting!"
She looked back, only to be greeted by silence. She should have expected that. Paintings didn't talk back to you.
But still, she continued.
"...I wish you could come and see. I've never had a real show of my very own before, and all these people are coming...I really hope they like what they see. I've been working so hard!"
As she cleaned up, she kept talking to the portrait. She told it about the special frame she'd had custom-made for it, about the other pieces she'd be showing off, and even the beautiful gown her ex-lover, Masao Kurenai, had made for her.
Once everything was washed and either put away, left to dry, or just left behind to be cleaned up the next day, Sakomi found herself before the portrait once more. She gazed up at it, at the face that often came to visit her in her dreams, and then said, very softly,
"I hope the show makes Misako feel better."
Once the words were out, into the silence, they hung in the air.
Sakomi sighed deeply. "This show isn't just for me...it's for her. See, for the last few years, she's been having these dreams, or maybe flashes, I'm not sure. She describes the most incredible things! But there's always this sadness in her voice. Then the other day, while we were having tea, she confessed that those dreams feel almost like memories, memories of something wonderful that she had and left behind."
Sakomi had never confessed such a thing before, but she trusted the portrait to keep her secrets.
"Misako tells me that she was in love, that there was someone there who adored her and she is struggling so hard to remember that person. I'm so worried about her. I just hope when she sees my finished work, that maybe it will bring a little bit of that back to her and soothe her. I don't know if it will work, but...she's my friend. She's my best friend in the whole world. I can't bear seeing her so sad."
The painting remained silent and soon, Sakomi told it everything: how Misako's beautiful voice had been silenced, how depressed she was, and how she never left their home anymore, spending her days in solitude and silence. The bright, vivacious, and beautiful girl Sakomi had grown up with seemed to have died in a torrent of humiliation and fake blood and Sakomi feared that her friend would never recover.
Sakomi wiped her eyes, surprised by the wetness she found there.
"...why am I crying?"
The question went unanswered.
"I have to go now, but I'll be back tomorrow to varnish you so you'll be ready for the frame, okay?"
Sakomi then picked up her tote bag with her special sketchbook in it and her purse and turned off all the lights.
She cast one long look at the inhumanly beautiful being she'd painted just as she opened the door to leave.
"Goodnight," she murmured as she shut the door.
Just before the door closed, a deep voice whispered back.
"Goodnight, my rose."
Sakomi froze, opening the door again and looking around quickly. "Is someone there?"
No reply came.
"...must be my imagination then." Sakomi then closed the door to the studio and locked it, trying to ignore the fluttery feeling in her stomach as she headed home.
🖌️🖌️ Three Weeks Later...🖌️🖌️
For the first time in years, Sakomi felt like a star. The gallery space she'd rented was packed with people, other artists, friends, critics, and others all had gathered for her very first art show, entitled ' A Wonderland of Dreams '. Everyone who saw her flutter around in her new dress congratulated her and praised her work. It was beyond anything her wildest dreams could have come up with.
Her show was full of pieces in various mediums. There was a colored pencil drawing of a brown-skinned boy with white hair dressed in scarlet riding a magical carpet, a watercolor painting depicting a tea party that looked like it had come out of Alice In Wonderland , a sketch depicting a young man with long dark hair, green eyes, and lion ears, and another painting of a boy with blue flames for hair at his computer. Each piece depicted something almost fantastical, but almost all of it had come from Misako's or Sakomi's mind.
"Sakomi, congratulations!" Masao Kurenai came up to her and kissed her cheeks. "What an absolutely dazzling display! You must be very proud."
"Of course I am, why wouldn't I be? Especially when I have a custom Haus of Kurenai design to wear. The dress is outstanding, Masao. I can't thank you enough."
The dress was an exceptionally fetching black and green number with silver accents. Masao had designed it especially for Sakomi and Sakomi alone, having been struck by a unique bolt of inspiration.
"Only the best for my muse," Masao replied, unable to keep the pride out of his voice. He then looked around the room. "Is Misako here?"
Sakomi followed his gaze, noting how worried he seemed. "She said she's not coming."
"Not coming? But doesn't she know this show is also for her?!"
"Masao, I've tried, but she just...refuses to listen to me or come out of the penthouse or do... anything." Sakomi sighed. "You'd think she'd have recovered by now, but those kinds of scars...they don't heal easily."
"Dad and Papa thought she'd be better off with you, but if you haven't been able to get her out..."
Sakomi began to protest but was stopped by someone tapping on her shoulder. Sakomi turned around to see a rather tall young man standing behind her. He had teal hair with a grey tress along the left side of his face. He had mismatched eyes that were vaguely familiar and an incredibly unsettling smile.
"Excuse me, Miss Suzuki?" The young man said. "Pardon the interruption, but I was wondering if I would be able to buy a few of your pieces on behalf of my associate."
"Oh, of course!" Sakomi was grateful for the distraction. "What caught your interest?"
"My associate unfortunately cannot be with us, but he did see the virtual tour of your gallery and he is especially interested in that painting over there." The tall gentleman pointed at a large canvas on the wall opposite them.
The painting depicted the secret object of Misako's desire, a young male Cecelia. He was in the depths of his underwater grotto, conjuring up spells. Sakomi had worked very hard on the piece, using special glow-in-the-dark pigments to try to capture the creature's bioluminescence and the violet and black sheen of his body. His silvery hair and bright blue eyes almost seemed to glow, along with his purplish skin. The frame for the painting had also been specially designed for it, carved to resemble the tentacles of an octopus.
"Oh, the Cecelia?" Sakomi asked. "What about it interested your, er, associatiate?"
The tall man pulled out his cell phone and tapped on it a few times. "He was fascinated by the color and composition, but mostly because the model reminded him of himself. He finds it exquisite and now that I have seen it for myself, so do I. He is very willing to pay whatever price you desire and even commission you for further work if you'd like."
Sakomi's eyes lit up. "I would be happy to! But I cannot discuss prices until the show has closed..."
"My associate is amenable to that," the gentleman said, pulling out a card from his jacket pocket. He handed it to Sakomi and bowed. "We look forward to hearing from you."
Sakomi peered at the card. Jade Leech, co-owner of Mostro Jewelers.
Jade smiled his unsettling smile and took his leave, melting back into the crowds to admire the show.
🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉
Soon enough, it was time for Sakomi to reveal her masterpiece.
Nervously, she approached the green cloth that was covering the painting. She took a deep breath to steady herself and then yanked the cloth, revealing the portrait to the crowd.
A hush fell across the room before excited murmuring filled the silence.
"I call this ' The Horned Prince '," Sakomi said. "He is a being I have dreamed about for many years and now...I have brought him to life."
Well, in a manner of speaking...
She then stepped back. The painting of the horned man she'd dreamed about so much was framed by a custom frame of her own design, one of black thorns and pink roses, making it look like something out of a fairy tale.
"He's beautiful!"
"Why does he have horns?"
"Is he really a Prince?"
"What was your inspiration?"
"I have to have this for my collection! I will pay any price, Misa Suzuki!"
Sakomi was somewhat overwhelmed by all the questions, but it was only the last one she answered. "He's not for sale. This is for my personal gallery. My prince will never be for sale."
The prospective buyer seemed to accept this and the chatter resined, with Sakomi answering questions until one question made her stop.
"Is it supposed to glow like that?"
Glow?
Sakomi turned around only to find, to her shock, that the painting had begun to glow a brilliant green.
Masao sprang into action. "Everybody, move back, move back!"
He then moved to try to get Sakomi away from the painting, but she wouldn't move... couldn't move. She was transfixed as the canvas glowed, noticing, just for a moment, that those green eyes of her prince seemed to blink.
The glow enveloped the canvas, glowing brighter and brighter until no one could see anything. And then, a massive staff with a spinning wheel and spindle at the head emerged from the glow.
Someone screamed.
The staff was then followed by a tall body, clad in black and green, with dark hair, pale skin, green eyes... and horns .
The glow faded, revealing an empty canvas...and a surprise.
Standing before that canvas was its former subject, the horned prince. He stood up to his full impressive height, took a deep breath, and exhaled. He scanned the room for a second before his eyes landed on Sakomi.
He stared at her curiously for a moment before stepping forward, his staff tapping on the floor with each step. When he was a few feet away from her, he stopped and smiled.
"There you are, my rose," His voice was deep and rich, like dark chocolate and silk.
"I've been looking everywhere for you."