An Artist's Curse - For Ki

[onethousandflowers]

Though it's been a few years since they first met, Yusuke is full of surprises. Of all the people he's ever known, few stand out, but the literal starving artist manages to do so every day. Byakuran has become his patron, letting him use his studio as so many have before, though not in years. It's a simple matter to keep it stocked, though keeping Yusuke eating...

And that's the thing. If he doesn't eat, he dies. If he grows old, he dies. If an accident befalls him, he very well could, too. Byakuran can't stand to imagine it. He's not one to beg, so calling in an old, old debt was in order, and lo and behold, it paid off.

A solution to mortality. A simple change of perspective, really. The fallen couldn't be more delighted with the result, though allowing someone to pay off a debt so easily rubbed him the wrong way.

Regardless, he knocked on the studio door, bag of food in one hand, including but not limited to his little surprise. "Yusuke, are you in?"

Comments

[pursuitofbeauty]

Of course Yusuke is too distracted to even register the knocking or his patron's voice, caught up in one of his torrents of inspiration. It's still strange to be painting for himself, for his pieces to emerge from the studio with his name and his own growing reputation attached rather than Madarame's. With his foster father dead from advanced age, Yusuke had lost his former home, living in the Kosei dorms until graduation. Even now, there were comparisons in the art world between his style and his former teacher's, even the experts dismissing the similarities as the product of Madarame's close tutelage and not the plagiarism that actually occurred. So his style has changed somewhat, to distance himself from rumors and the memories they bring, but the delicate brushwork that is his signature persists.

The young man tunes out the world when he paints, as if he wears horse blinders and noise-cancelling headphones. All that matters are the strokes and flicks of brushes, the blending of colors. His skin and clothing are spattered with bright spots, making him as much a canvas as the one in front of him. Even the faint growls of his stomach fade into the background as he shapes an impressionistic landscape from tiny curls of streaked colors.

[onethousandflowers]

This is why Byakuran carries a key. He unlocks the door, humming gently as he restocks the bowl of fruit he habitually keeps by the door. More go off than are eaten, but that's hardly surprising with Yusuke.

"Yusuke, how're you today?" His voice is sing-song as he speaks, following a tune not heard in hundreds of years from human tongue. He remembers a lot of things like that.

He places his prize on top, where it'll be easy to grab later - a pomegranate, skin shining golden.

[pursuitofbeauty]

The only reason Yusuke notices Byakuran's presence this time is because he chooses that moment to rinse off his brush, and when he turns to check it he notices the man standing there stocking the fruit bowl. Quickly, he sets down his brush and palette and stands to bow to his patron.

"Oh! Apologies, I didn't know you were here. As you can see, my latest work is almost complete. I hope it meets your expectations."

He's been working through part of the previous night and most of today, without more than a brief pause now and then to drink some water or use the restroom. He won't tell Byakuran that, so of course he tries not to react when his stomach growls quietly again.

[onethousandflowers]

"It's fine, it's fine." His smile broadens. "I have no eye for art, you know that! But I can tell you devote yourself to it, and that's enough." It's always enough. Byakuran was not made to have opinions. That he's formed them at all shows just how flawed he's become.

He withdraws an apple from the bowl. "You need to eat more. I'll take you out later, if you can stand to step away." It's an old reminder, one that he's been making since they've met. The apple is not the intended offering... merely a way of drawing the eye to the pomegranate balanced precariously above. It's incredibly alluring, plump and an almost radiant rosy gold.

[pursuitofbeauty]

Yusuke bites his lip lightly, attention darting between his painting and the fresh fruit. Normally food wouldn't hold a candle to his art, not even when he's this hungry, but that pomegranate looks delicious. He hasn't had one of those in ages. "I... suppose I could take a short break, if you insist. But I must finish before I can consider going anywhere."

He allows himself to cross the room to the fruit bowl, taking the pomegranate in hand. It's almost a shame to tear into this perfect fruit without painting it first, and normally Yusuke would set it on a table next to a glass vase of cream-colored flowers and a single brimming teacup, but the moment the fruit is in hand he finds he can't resist picking up a clean knife and cutting through the rind. The scoring allows him to dig in his blunt nails and pull the skin apart to reveal the juicy arils nestled inside. It doesn't matter if the juice stains his hands or his clothing, the smell is incredible. Greedily he plucks out a cluster of arils and crams them between his lips, crushing them against the roof of his mouth with his tongue. His eyes droop shut in bliss and an almost shameful little groan of pleasure escapes him.

[onethousandflowers]

The inside is even more gorgeous, if such a thing could be believed. Arils shine like rows of rubies and taste like the tartness of divinity itself.

"Alright. Shall I get you some water?" He's already approaching the stained sink, hiding his satisfied smile behind a plain voice and a turned head. That was even easier than anticipated. "Wouldn't want you to get dehydrated."

[pursuitofbeauty]

Yusuke makes a vague sound of appreciation as he stuffs more of the pomegranate in his mouth. He barely needs water, the arils are so juicy they're satisfying his thirst as well as taking the edge off his hunger. His fingers and lips are stained but he doesn't care, digging into the fruit again and again until there's nothing left but the bitter rind. There's a rosy flush in his face and he looks dazed, sinking into a nearby chair and letting the rind drop to the floor.

He's speechless, his stomach quiet and his entire body warmed by some strange feeling of satisfaction. Was the fruit a different cultivar he's never tried before, or had his hunger made the flavor irresistible?

[onethousandflowers]

"Oh, hungry, I guess." He smiles somewhat kindly, but can't keep the satisfaction off his face. Traditionally, three arils would have been enough. To devour all of them... Not that his satisfaction is misplaced, feeding Yusuke is always a challenge. "Might want to wash your hands."

[pursuitofbeauty]

His hands? Ah... he's sucking on his fingers, tasting the last of the juice. Embarrassed, he drops them to his sides, not meeting his patron's eyes.

"F-- Forgive my lapse of decorum, Byakuran-san. I can't imagine what came over me. Even hunger has never led me to be so...." He gestures helplessly, not sure how to describe his rather gauche lack of manners. "I really do apologize for the uncouth display."

His stomach feels so warm.