Chapter 80: The Depths of the Ocean (5) – 78

"Tada~"

Pulling me into a nondescript room, my eyes immediately darted around the room that was filled with brushes strewn everywhere, covered "things" that had wooden stands peeking though openings hear the bottom, and an overall smell of turpentine, moths, dust, and paint filling the room, before falling on an uncovered canvas in the middle of the room, one that was just standing there, illuminated by the sunlight coming from the one window on the ceiling of the room.

'Beautiful...'

Even more beautiful than Rua herself in some aspects.

She just drew me in, her curves, her colors, and her imagery.

Just the perfect combo, the perfect all in one package.

I never knew that there could be something so beautiful in this world, and it felt like my eyes had been blessed, just because I had seen this painting.

She was hypnotizing.

"Ahem." I mean, 'it'.

"Hmm? Why are you coughing, Micheal?"

Looking at where the voice had come from, I was pleasantly not that surprised to find that Rua had taken her seat on the chair that was facing the incomplete painting that I had found hypnotizingly beautiful, her legs crossed over each other, as she posed with her palette in one hand and a paintbrush in the other.

Realizing my blunder, I was able to save myself by asking,

"Did you paint it?"

"Of course! Why else would I have showed you it so proudly, you dummy!"

Yet, although her words were harsh, she was looking away from me, her entire face blushing red.

Seeing this, I got the hint and asked,

"Is this your first time showing your artwork to anybody?"

"My first time after coming here, yes."

"Oh, so you were an artist." I stated this as if it were a fact, and she didn't refute it, so I knew I had hit it right on the nail.

And now, her diagnosis had become even more clear, as many artists, writers, and common high schoolers were faced with this condition.

'Depression.'

But, judging from the scars on her wrist, her depression was of a much higher degree than what was normal or even considered common in our time.

Looking at her artwork for a second time, I could see this fact reflected in it too, as the cheery tones that she used to color the flowers in a field were under shadowed by truly depressing colors in some areas of the board, areas that were much darker than they were supposed to be.

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Looking more at the background of the painting and not just the thing front and center, the flower field, I noticed that the sky seemed to be darkening as I swept my gaze from the right to the left, the size of the clouds also increasing into cumulonimbus clouds, and the sun was also blocked out, as if a storm was incoming.

Actually, now that I thought about it, there was a type of art called art therapy, and it seemed like the ideals of the practice were true, as Rua's art truly showed her mental state.

And so, after studying the artwork for a few more moments, I came to know a few more things about Rua from her art.

'Did she mean to share these thoughts with me? Or did I invade her personal, private, mental space?'

As my expression continued to drop, Rua started getting worried, and thus called out,

"Micheal, is there a problem?" She asked, her tone a little bit higher pitched than what it was normally.

"Ah, your artwork was so beautiful that it drew me in. I was hypnotized, haha..."

Giving a pretty weak excuse that I was pretty sure she saw through immediately, I continued to just stare at the painting, trying to glean as much information as possible about Rua from it.

"That's enough! If you continue looking at it with those type of eyes, I'll start to question my own beauty!"

Pouting, as if she was a jealous lover, she broke me out of my revere whilst also lightening the mood, as she threw a heavy blanket over her painting, covering it forever, shutting it out from the light.

"I'm so embarrassed..." She muttered, clearly whilst not though, and just putting on a cute act to try and get my attention.

So, I played along, as she led me out of my room and to the living room.

Yet, I couldn't get the painting out of my mind, as I continuously looked back over my shoulder as we walked away from that room.

That painting, it would forever be engraved in my mind.

And, as it stayed there, marinating in the depths of my subconscious, there was only one thing that my subconscious gleaned from the image, that my conscious brain had failed to figure out.

That Rua was on the cusp, the edge, standing on the ledge between life and death.

If only I had felt that not only in my instincts, but also in my mind, as I continued meeting with her.

If only I had figured out why I had suddenly started trying to spend every minute of my time with her.

If only I had noticed that I was subconsciously protecting her from everything that came her way.

And I definitely should have noticed her increasingly crazy hairstyle as the days went by.

"..."

In the end, I never saw that painting again.

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