Work Text:
The smell of fresh paint filled the air, corroding his lungs without care. His eyes, puffy and reddish, kept staring at the wall he was painting on. It had been hours since they had stopped itching and crying. Ekko also ignored the throbbing pain in his head, nose sniffles, and weight of his eyelids. Like an artist devoted to his muse, he couldn't stop. His hands followed a precise, almost mechanical course. How long would it take to finish? Wiping his dry cheek after the tears, he left a trace of blue paint. It didn't matter. After all, he would stay there as long as it took.
A burdensome memory accompanied each painful stroke. How his chest ached every time Powder returned to his thoughts. His body recognised her appearance automatically, but how could he not? How could he not capture every tiny detail? How could he not go through every piece of her he had left? Was it a memorial? Or an attempt to bring him back to his senses? Ekko clenched his fist on the wall. No, he had to focus. Paint, draw anything but stand idly by and endure the cold reality of her absence.
Sometimes the idyllic universe with her other self returned. How different things would have been if that had been his reality since the start? Yet, Ekko would not change things for betraying his timeline. Perhaps it was the now crushed hope of having her back on his present, of not giving up on her. Regret ate him up for losing her a second time. Not even the consolation that they were together in another life was enough to keep him going. It was too late to turn back time. Now, all that remained was to paint, spray, paint, spray, spray, paint…
His unfocused eyes blinked once his fingers stopped pressing the almost empty can. That was the last part, right? Oh, no . A last touch laid beneath his feet. Had it gotten stained? No. Not the front, the back, or the sides. Perfectly clean. Ekko rushed to place it against the wall, then took a few steps back. His gaze lightened up despite its tiredness.
On the left were two side views of the Powder he once knew. Images of when they were kids: How she looked on their first meeting and one of their paintball wars. Colours splashed behind her portraits, referencing the latter’s irregular shapes. Ekko grabbed a can of spray from his belt while his eyes ran over her. Silver hair clips adorned her sharp-cut hair, a softer expression on her face. Perhaps Ekko passed his grief long ago, for it was the less painful to look at - Less recent, albeit not of less importance.
To the right was the alternate reality Powder, also in two side view representations. In the one below, she had the buns from when he first met her. Perhaps his feelings influenced her bittersweet expression. It was an appropriate contrast from the one above her. Her sweet gaze during their dance took him back to that moment. His heart ached and raced when he focused on her face. Blue makeup, red lips... Behind her, blue peonies adorned the background. First and an unforgettable love — A fitting choice.
Moving onto the last part , the centre, remnants of his Powder stared to the front. Back arched, eyelids half closed, eyebrows furrowed. A gun held in her hand, pointing right at him. Jinx . No, Powder . Despite everything, it was still her. She used to be there, somewhere. If only Ekko had been there one last time. Just one more. One. All those previous weren’t enough. After everything, he should feel like a saviour, yet only mourning eclipsed his senses. Colourful lives around him, and yet blue still printed his heart.
Closing his eyes, he withdrew two cylinders from his belt.
Right, there was a fourth . A last touch. Hers.
Pressing the triggers, a spraying sound filled the air. Dizziness started overtaking his mind from all the inhaled paint, yet Ekko let limbs do the same as earlier, take their paths over the mural. Memories of her eclipsed and clouded his mind. For a moment, it was like she took his hands and moved them as she wished. This was her farewell. Ekko, somehow, was sure of it.
Opening them again, now familiar doodles painted in neon pink and blue adorned Powder, all of her versions. Some flowers here and there, hourglasses, explosions of colour. Ekko’s gaze remained on the newest splash over the gun, now fired and right below it, a trail splashed over the plushie of her right where Ekko left it. Taking it, he noticed some pink splashed on its top and pants before leaving it in its place.
Ekko caressed her cheek one last time, leaving a blue trace behind him. Despite the freshness, he pressed his forehead against the graffiti. Inside his longing chest, only missing filled his senses — he missed her. It would never stop or go away. Powder will always remain in his thoughts, inspiration, and every creation. Throughout his life, he would always cherish her memory.
Perhaps Powder was his only salvation.