Private the boldest stroke you can make

[Shinrya Sachiko]

"I did it," came an even tone from the heart of something akin to indifference - not as if she couldn't be bothered, but like it wouldn't cross her mind. She sat proper at the wooden bench table the students milled about outside the Academy, looking from the pad affront her to the flower that sat in the center of the table the same. She tucked her hair behind an ear with the help of her pencil, red locks twined between thin fingers and released to settle in the breeze. She raised her eyes expectantly to their Sensei - a jollier, older man - and waited for his approval of her work. She didn't need to understand him to respect him; with his place as their teacher, and therefore better, Sachiko wouldn't field a single complaint. This is why she fell studiously into the ten minutes it took her to create the artpiece she now presented.

He came across her shoulder and then frowned, and she felt her own lips fall in pensive contemplation. How strange. He didn't like it? Had she not drawn it right? Getting the petals in their shape and number was ... difficult. No excuse. She puzzled over the page before he cleared his throat to speak, straightening out his shoulders with a gentle sigh. His words teased her. "Not quite, Shinrya-hime. It's a lovely flower, yes, but the instruction is to sketch what you see when you look around. Do you understand?" Mmm. "Mmm. I see the flower. I promise." His eyes squinted as if he couldn't decide between his curiosity or humor. "W-well, yes, Shinrya-hime, I don't doubt that you see it." He guffawed, a hand on his chest and the other tousling back his own hair. "But is that really the only thing to see?"

She pursed her lips in thought, trying not to narrow her eyes in growing concern as they swept the garden space around them. A tree. The students. A building. More flowers? Had she inadequately filled the page? That wouldn't do. "I understand, Sensei." She did not. "I'll try again."

He looked at her for a quiet second and the dull look the gears turning in her eyes returned, and sighed again, laughter an undercurrent. "Hm ... hmmm ... Kazanari-kun. Come here a moment," he called out, motioning to a boy that rivaled her in red shade. "Would you partner with Shinrya-hime for this assignment? I think the perspective would assist her." She blinked, drawing her eyes between the teacher and her peer like the turn of a page, and blinked again. It was reminiscent of recycling film. "If that's what you think, Sensei. Hello, Kazanari-kun. It's nice to meet you. My name is Shinrya Sachiko. What's yours, Kazanari-kun?"

One hand fell on her lap while the other held out, still dangling a pencil forgotten between her knuckles. "Are you good at 'art'?"

 

[Kazanari Ichika]

Kazanari Ichika has always placed great importance on beauty and its value. The brilliant painters that can capture the splendor that surrounds every single person with broad strokes on empty canvas or the sculptors that can mold dull clay into vivid evocations. He never really fancied himself like that, nor did he have the talent to do so. Whether by his own inability or the uncertainty that clouds his heart, he found himself unable to create beauty - only destroy it. Still, he enjoyed having the opportunity to participate in whatever paltry creations he could, the class he's currently in being one of them. He didn't really have anything to show for it, when his sensei called for his attention, beckoning him over to a girl who evoked the calm of an autumn forest. The Princess of Kumogakure. "Uh, yeah sure... I mean, yes sir. I don't mind helping out." This was a half-truth. Pins and needles strike little embers from his beating heart. The last thing Ichika needed to do was say something stupid to a princess and get in trouble. He wasn't quite sure how to even begin speaking to her when a hand reaches out to meet his.

This was a gesture he understood and like a trained dog he reaches out with a toothy grin, pawing at her hand to shake. "Nope! I'm terrible at it!" He laughs and tilts his head remembering her first question. "You can call me Ichika! Nice to meet you! Mmmm... Shinrya-hime...? Sachiko-hime? Sachi-hime?" Every thought escaping the boy's lips until he forgets himself again. It's hard to know what exactly to say to royalty and even more-so when you're used to blurting out whatever pops into your head. "Ah! Anyways, I'm not so good at the whole creating art yet, but I really, really love it! Finding the beauty in the little things around you is fascinating, don'tcha think?" He retracts his hand, nervous little fingers grasping at the rough fabric as his shorts as he takes a seat besides her. What value was there in the perspective of a lone flower surrounded by a field of ash? And then he took a look at her drawing... Then the flower she so obviously took for inspiration, his eyes slowly drifting to meet hers. He squints with a puzzled look coloring his expression, deep in thought at how to explain the problem to her without hurting her feelings. It was a damn good drawing, far better than what Ichika could manage, but it was lacking the intended meaning of the lesson. "Hey, Sachi..." He's already forgotten what little manners he had in the first place. "This is a really good drawing. You captured this flower's essence really well, but the assignment is more about how you see the world. Do you understand?"

 

[Shinrya Sachiko]

"Shinrya-chan. I don't think Sensei knew what to call me, either. I am only informally a princess, but a princess in name still, if you wanted to call me -hime like Sensei does. Mother's a Duchess. You don't have to. We're classmates. That makes us equal here." She immediately began to sketch while he spoke to her, showcasing an uncanny ability to draw while continuing to stare him dead in his eyes. She observed her color blending from the bottom of her vision the same way she read the shapes of the people that loitered in the area. "That's okay, Kazanari-kun. I'm not good at some things too. Not many things, but for example, I don't know how to not break things when I hit them." Her lips turned up at slight edges - an attempt at friendliness. They were sharing, as you did with people you cared about. She was supposed to care about him, as a peer, wasn't she? "I'm also not good at eating carrots. I don't like the texture. Did you know that your finger bones have the consistency of a carrot if you were to bite through them? I have a hard time eating them when I think about that." She nodded in his direction, exchanging her facts pleasantly, and finished up her new attempt at art as his own words petered.

"You look like this." She showed him what she had drawn in the minute that had passed, glancing between it and his face and continuing. "It's a rough draft. I'll need more time for your other parts. I wanted you to know I saw you, too." She took his words in stride. "You're beautiful, too. Like this flower, Kazanari-kun. Is that still not right?" He seemed to resonate with her - he liked her art, so far, for what it was worth - so what was she still getting wrong? Mm. "Mmm. I have 20/20 vision. Am I ... am I missing colors?" The first note of troubled confusion entered at the bend of her voice, finding herself increasingly unsure of what she wasn't understanding. "I don't think so. Mother made me fantastically. What if I gave you the flower? Is there not enough?" She moved to lift the flora and shove it in his direction, incessant without passion. "Hold this. I need to see you together."