Chapter 17: 3.2

Chapter 3: Art Emanates From Pain and Sadness

 

Part 2

 

 

I had never missed a single club activity, I even stayed until the very end of every day, so it was natural for the advisor, Hiiragi-sensei, to notice that something was off. After a week of absence, I was summoned by Sensei.

 

“Why have you stopped coming? With that hollow gaze and dismay on your face, you’re not drawing at home too, right?… A slump?”

 

At the room next to the art club, the art preparation room that Hiiragi-sensei occupied as his private room without any permission. The room waffled with the pungent aroma of curry that made it obvious that he had it for lunch. With his arms crossed, he stared at me.

 

“Isn’t it too much for someone ordinary like me to use the word ‘slump’? But yes, I can’t bring myself to draw. Heartbreak’s the reason.”

 

I didn’t care what he thought of me, he could think of me as someone who had given up to despair as much as he wanted, but that one word at the end made me wince.

 

I didn’t know what he thought of my action, but he let out a short sigh.

 

“It would be unthoughtful of me to intrude, if it involves your romantic affairs, but if you don’t feel like drawing, why don’t you trace your own step, rediscover the joy when you first draw. Remember drawing doodles with crayon as a kid, it was supposed to be fun, right?”

 

Sensei looked at me with the same stern piercing gaze that Yuri sometimes used. That gaze was as rattling as ever, unconsciously, I cowered.

 

I galled at how he talked philosophy yet understanding nothing of what I have been through. I hated it when those people with the title of “genius” sympathized with ordinary people with a knowing look on their faces.

 

“You yourself know that I don’t draw just for fun, you said that yourself. And besides me there’s Yuri… There’s a genius next to me. No matter what I do, I’ll always be jealous of her, no matter how much time passes, I’ll still be her inferior.”

 

I regretted it as soon as it left my mouth, but Hiiragi-sensei just lifted the corners of his mouth as if he could see through me. “I haven’t talked about Kashiwazaki even once. Isn’t the one who’s always overly conscious of her you?” 

 

I bit my lips. Why was I always like this? Getting too conscious of her and ending up losing myself, embarrassment made me turn my face away guiltily. Hiiragi-sensei patted my head lightly, but his reply was unusually stern.

 

“If you stop drawing, then you will be an even more ordinary person. If Kashiwazaki is really a genius, then a day would come when she returns to drawing again, no matter what the reason is. If you want to surpass her… Then this is not the time to stop.”

 

A lone Japanese man in the middle of Paris, painting for a living. Just how many hardships he came across, I couldn’t even imagine it. When I looked up, he had already resumed his usual aloof grin. I wonder how much struggle he had seen, how much pressure he had been carrying with that slender body of his.

 

The same for Yuri, even with the world roaring her praise, she might have her own struggles. Maybe it was time to stop the prejudice and start looking at her properly.

 

But whether I could draw or not, that was another matter, though.

 

***

 

After being beaten by Hiiragi-sensei’s logic, I exhausted myself by swinging my head around, getting my brain to work. But I arrived at a conclusion that I need to talk about this with her head-on, no matter how overwhelmingly tiresome she might be. 

[TN: Whether Senpai or Yuri, I’m not quite sure who this “her” and “she” is too]

 

The reason for this is quite clear. Sugawara-senpai was the model for my painting for the Kouji Exhibition Competition, so to speak, she was the person most concerned. I’m accountable for not being able to paint anymore.

 

I thought going to her instead of calling her was the least I could do as a courtesy, so I went to Sapporo and waited for her shooting to finish. Afterwards, we went to a nearby café. With a table in between, we faced each other.

 

“I’m sorry for barging in so suddenly. I had something I needed to break it to you, thank you for your time,” I opened.

 

“The last time I saw your face was at the ceremony, hmm– Well, that was a blur, and I’ve been busy with work since then, so I don’t have the time. But I’m happy to hear from you that you wanted to see me.”

 

Maiei High graduation ceremony took place on March 1th. At that time, Senpai was flocked by her fans, hardly a place to talk. According to a kouhai, her personal belongings were stripped, not even a single ballpoint pen left behind.

 

“Maybe it’s because you’ve graduated, or maybe it’s my first time seeing you photo shooting… You’re extra mature today, Senpai,” I complimented.

 

“Fufu, really? Until now, I’ve lots of things I want to talk to you about. But… I’m sure you’re not here just to chat with me, right?”

 

The fists on my lap clenched.

 

“Yes…Actually…” I muttered.

 

About how I couldn’t paint her portrait, not even a single sketch now, about how I don’t feel like drawing and it’s cause, my parting with the girl I loved— Utako, I told her the whole story.

 

While she may be wearing her makeup since she came here right after work, she wore plain clothing as a disguise, yet she couldn’t hide the shimmering aura of hers. Against her, my explanation seemed like an excuse. I felt ashamed at how evident my pettiness was.

 

After listening to the whole thing silently, Senpai took a sip of her caffe latte.

 

“But the competition you’re aiming for is due at the end of this month, right? Will you finish in time?” asked Senpai, concerned.

 

I looked away. The deadline was three weeks away, only the rough sketch was finished. If this continued, then I would be disqualified. 

 

“What will you do? The competition, you’re giving up? Didn’t you say that you would repay me with the results, that you would do your best?” demanded Senpai.

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While her words sounded harsh, her tone was gentle. I could tell that she was worried about me and was  trying to reinvigorate me.

 

“I don’t want to give up… But I have never been like this before. I don’t know what I should do.” I professed.

 

I didn’t want Senpai to worry about me any more. I wanted to smile and say “I’m fine”, but distraught overwhelmed me, I couldn’t keep my composure any longer. All I could come up with was a stupid excuse. Ashamed, I looked away.

 

“Hey, Sousuke. Look at me properly.” She cupped my cheeks and forced me to look at her, her eyes a fiery fervor.

 

The blinding brilliance distinct to the “geniuses” of hers made me feel dizzy.

 

“Originally, I was going to use you to make Yuri draw me. But that’s not the case anymore. From the bottom of my heart, I genuinely want you to paint me.” Her eyes still burned.

 

Why? I was given the best of appreciation by someone who had it all like her, yet can’t bring myself to paint. I could only clench my fists harder as vexation and shame assailed.

 

“Objectively… It’s just a normal heartbreak, every day, someone experiences it. Yet… I’m going to be a painter, so I need to meld even the worst of heartache into my art. Yet… I can’t draw… I’m disillusioned. I now realize my worthlessness.”

 

The difference in skill between me and Yuri made me despair. Even though it was hard, even though I wanted to cry, I kept on drawing day after day like an idiot.

 

Yet now, I just couldn’t bring myself to paint. Now that Utako, my sole consolation was gone, my motivation, ambition, and hope vanished with her. 

 

“Being that loyal to someone you love, doing everything with determination, Sousuke, you’re not worthless. But… Your promise to Utako-chan is more important than to me?” she asked.

 

I was at loss at the unanticipated question.

 

“No… It’s not something to compare in the first place,” I stalled for time.

 

“I’ll change the question then. To you, Utako is more important than anything, right? That’s why you lose the will to draw when you lost her, you’re suffering because you can’t forget her? Am I wrong?”

 

No. That was right. When she put it into words, happy memories, painful goodbyes flooded me at once. Floundering about in the crashing waves of memories, my silence continued. 

 

But Senpai did not look at my good-for-nothing me with disappointment, nor judging eyes, nor cursed at me, just gently removed her hands from my cheeks. 

 

“If that’s the case, then I’ll help you get on your feet. I’ll become the woman you need, I’ll be someone indispensable.” Her eyes glinted gallantly as hers held mine.

 

“No, you don’t have to go that far, there’s no need for you to. I’ll find a way myself, that’s why–”

 

“A need to? This is what I want to do. If you look happy, then I do too. I told you before, didn’t I? But if this continues, you won’t be happy ever again. You were serious about drawing, there might be some hardships along the way, but your face was livelier than ever… I want to see that Sousuke again.”

 

I hurriedly averted my eyes away as Senpai tried to hide her moist eyes behind the gaudy glasses. But the skirt covering her long legs rustled as she rose. Before I could call out to her, she left the store, leaving bills enough to cover for two people.

 

Compared to Senpai who was already earning money on her own, I couldn’t help but feel miserable.

 

***

 

I already knew that I couldn’t leave things like this even before being told by Hiiragi-sensei and Senpai.

 

I took a deep breath and flipped my sketchbook open. I wasn’t showing this to anyone, so there’s no need to put in much effort. Just a doodle as a breather, I told myself.

 

Draw. Just draw. I grabbed the pencil. 

 

I tried to draw animals and people at random, but I couldn’t get the lines right. I tried to replicate the beds and desks in my room, but the pain at the back of my eyes made my hand freeze.

 

The fact that I couldn’t draw drove me to an edge. I lost the sense of time and stared at the sketchbook until dawn. The frustration made me start hating drawing itself. There were times when I thought painting was painful, but never something like this. 

 

Aah, yeah. Yuri told me this.

 

“Um, Sousuke, why are you usually drawing with a frown?” was it?

 

Even I, just another highschool student who fancied drawing, became this miserable when I realized I couldn’t draw as I envisioned. How would those major artists or geniuses even feel when they have an art block?

 

No, geniuses like Yuri won’t get into that situation in the first place. Wasn’t that precisely why they were called geniuses, because they weren’t bothered by something like this? 

 

As I began to formulate my own speculations like that, I scratched my head and let out a sigh. 

 

Ah, there I go again. Yuri’s words, her face. No matter how I struggled, I would always be bound by a chain called Yuri. I was desperately trying to break free, but it just restrained me more and more as the years passed.

 

How long did I have to keep chasing after her?

 

Was it from the stress of being unable to draw? Or was it my body breaking down from lack of sleep? My thoughts deteriorated. I looked outside, the still dark sky swallowed the morning star, just like how life took Utako from me. 

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