Chapter Text
“What a great painter you’re going to be!” Iyo says, smiling at her son’s adorable flower painting, “Oh! And it’s even my favorite flower” she noticed, smiling even wider and picked up her son, giving him a kiss on the cheek, then placing him back down. “Specially made for you, mommy” Yoichi blushing away embarrassed by the compliment.
"My boy is gonna be big someday, ah?" Issei came in and patted the sprout boy's head.
"Of course I will be! I'll be a great painter"
“Yeah, you”ll be!” Issei replied.
Iyo took a magnet from the fridge and placed his new painting on it together with his old artwork.
The little boy looking up at his works, proud of himself with the works he’s made. Imagining one of his paintings to be a winner in a big competition one day, “One day” the boy mumbles,”What was that, honey?” Iyo says as she sets the table for them to eat, “Nothing, mommy” the sprout boy says, running towards his seat, ready to eat with his small and loving family.
___
Quiet slow music playing in the background, with the window slightly open, letting a bit of breeze into the painter’s room.
‘What a cold night,’ Yoichi thought to himself, fingers tightening around the worn wooden handle of his brush letting another gentle bristle kiss once more on the painting that has mostly consumed him for months; a painting of Berlin’s festival of lights, though the boy has never been there, never walked its streets, but the images he found– every neon color, every shape and form the lights make, glowing landmarks– every color giving more peace and freedom to the sprout boy, just as if, he has been there himself, painting it as he felt them, not just saw them.
Humming to the tune of his favorite song from his speaker, and slowly mixing in the colors on his palette, already mixed with different shades of almost every color, not even bothering to clean it up afterwards. Beautiful is what he would call his palette, colors showing almost all of his art pieces in one place, every color giving off their own meaning to his painting, because that’s what he sees in his art, more color equals more freedom.
__
It wasn’t surprising to anyone that Yoichi had always been in love with art. Painting, drawing, sculpting, pottery — if it involved colors, he wanted to try it. Some of his canvases were filled with half-finished works, his shelves lined with cracked clay bowls and old faded canvases, each piece a small reminder that creation was the only place he felt truly alive.
Of course, Yoichi wasn’t just about art. He had always been fond of sports too, eager to move, to push his well-built body in ways that made his blood race. That part of him only grew stronger after he met Hyoma and Meguru — loud, reckless Meguru, who seemed to overflow with energy, and a straightforward, but supportive Hyoma.
Soccer was Hyoma’s and Meguru’s world, and soon enough, it became Yoichi’s too. The three of them played whenever they could, barefoot in the park or abandoned soccer fields, chasing the ball until their lungs burned.
But while Yoichi chased soccer with Meguru, and ran marathons with Hyoma, he also never stopped chasing his own colors. They were different, the three of them. Hyoma’s and Meguru’s passion was physical, kinetic, alive in the rhythm of movement and dance. Yoichi’s passion was to always be behind a canvas of his own work, surrounded by splattered paint and messy cans filled with brushes.
He always admired their motivation to move freely with their own minds and bodies. Yoichi would always sit in the back of practice halls and auditoriums, clapping the loudest at every recital, cheering as if they were already standing on the world’s brightest stage. Supporting them was easy.
Believing in himself, however, was not.
Unlike Hyoma and Meguru, Yoichi doubted his own potential. He wondered if his paintings could ever mean anything outside the walls of his own home. On some nights, as he painted until his fingers cramped and his mind blurred, the questions gnawed at him: What if painting was never really mine to hold onto? What if these colors would never take me anywhere? What if my talent was nothing more than useless thoughts of a creative mind?
And yet, with a mind filled with a hopeless dream of his, to become a well-known painter at least, he still strives for what he’s potential can grow to.
__
His parents, far more different than his mind is to himself, have always supported his way of being a painter, having him participate in almost every art competition in their town and even outside of it. Connecting with distant relatives who are a known artist in their country, Germany, to be more specific, Berlin, Germany, known for their architectural structures that attract many, even attracting the metallic blue-eyed sprout boy, with his paintings inspired mostly on their art of a country.
Free is what he would say about Germany, giving off the inspiration of his paintings.
Disturbing his train of thoughts, a knock sounded on the door, startling the sprout boy, and yet, still didn’t turn to where the knocking came from.
“So” Iyo teased, smiling warmly, a plate balanced on her hand, “how is our painter doing?”
A faint scent of toasted bread with turkey slipped into the room, making his stomach clench with a sudden hunger.
“You shouldn’t overwork yourself on this, you should eat” Issei says. Behind Iyo, eyes softer than his voice.
Sudden chills run down Yoichi’s spine, never has he heard his own dad in that tone, wondering if he should stop painting at the moment. “Yoichi” his dad says in a harsher tone, walking towards the boy in front of the canvas, currently facing back at them sitting on his office chair, a paper in his hands, spinning the boy to his direction, placing the paper right in front of the boy’s face.
“Can you explain to me what this is?” the tone deepened, shivers ran all over Yoichi’s body, and afraid to open his eyes, “Read. It,” The man says, Yoichi slowly opened his eyes and took the paper gently to his hands, reading in mumbles.
“Out. Loud” Issei says, standing straight with his arms crossed, and a giggling mother behind him.
Not paying any mind to his mother, Yoichi reads the letter out loud.
“Dear Mr. Isagi” Yoichi stops his reading to giggle, “A bit formal, eh?” looking up at his father, “Continue reading” Issei demands, scaring the boy even more, but still continues to read, “We are pleased to inform you that, after reviewing your…. submission(???) to the Rising Visions: International Youth Art Competition 2020, going to be held on May 30th, your work has been officially accepted as a..FINALIST ENTRY?!” getting louder and louder as he reads, standing up from his seat, hearing cheers from his parents.
“Go on, read more!” his parents excitedly say, wanting to hear more, ‘cause clearly they haven’t read it themselves.
Reading loud and quick. “As a finalist, you are invited to present your work in The National Art Center, Tokyo, Japan, where the competition will be held. The grand prize for this year’s event includes a full slot at the prestigious Weissmann University of Arts and Science. We are honored to announce that this year’s head judge will be the internationally renowned painter and installation artist, Elena Weissmann, whose works have been exhibited across Europe and the United States. We believe your art has the power to stand among the brightest voices of the new generation. We look forward to seeing your vision come alive on stage.” Catching his breathe, continues to read the last few words.
“Congratulations, and welcome to the competition. Sincerely, Kenji Aoyama, Director, Tokyo International Art Committee?!!?” Yoichi jumps in excitment, embracing his cheerful parents and with them hugging him back, they all jump together with happiness in their tears.
Yoichi pulled out of the hug first, “Wait, so uh, who submitted my application? ‘Cause I never did that," He says in confusion. “Well, of course, your beautiful mother. Heard from a friend that there was a great opportunity where our little Yoichi could go to-” patting Yoichi’s head in the process, stopped and continued, “And gave your mom a clear step-by-step on how to apply, and of course, she passed one of your greatest works” He says, proud of themselves for the opportunity they gave their son.
“What?! My last works are not enough to be accepted to this competition! Like, They weren’t even good enough to be noticed by Mr. Shio, the principal of a high art university. What am I supposed to do now?! My talent isn’t enough for me to win the com-” Yoichi freaks out, and stops mid-sentence with a hand on his shoulder.
“It was good enough for you to pass to the finalist entry, right? Who says it won’t be good enough to win, hm? And besides, the competition is in a fortnight from now, you have plenty of time to prepare” His dad interrupts, “Oh honey, we are so proud of you, promise you’ll do your best?” Iyo says as she hugs her son.
Silence was present for a few seconds, until Yoichi spoke up, “I’ll make sure to get accepted”.
Smiles formed on the parents' faces, “That’s my Yoichi” Issei says and they all fall to a big embrace by the big man.
__
Time skip two days before the competition
His parents, Hyoma, and Meguru were stunned by the 36x48 sized canvas he revealed.
It was a breathtaking vision of Berlin's Festival of lights— city streets bathed in that purple pink hues, glowing blues, and streaks of green and gold across the buildings matching gracefully with one another, giving off every shade of what the landmarks hold with his own touch of painting, acrylic mixed with oil pastels giving the art work even more texture and depth, displaying every brush strokes freedom of their own offered meaning by the audience.
Since, with Yoichi’s paintings, they are more of how another person would see and think of his work, and that’s one of the reasons he loves about art, being open without words, talking but without sound, and seeing without hesitation.
“Is it-”
“It’s beautiful!”
“Wonderful”
“Absolutley breathtaking”
“You’re going to win this!!”
Everyone took turns in complimenting the painting in front of them, making Yoichi blush from all the compliments.
“Oh! There he is blushing again” Meguru and Hyoma teased as they pinch his cheeks and pull the hem of his shirt, “Stop that!” Yoichi yells and they giggle away, he sighs and speaks up from the chattering from the four other people in the living room.
“Are you sure I’m going to win this?” Yoichi doubts, pouting and turning his head away.
“Of course you are! No doubt” Hyoma says and patted his bad
“You’re Yoichi! Always winning first place in every art competition he participates, and we are not even gonna go with Mr. Shio lol” Meguru laughs awkwardly and emphasises the ‘every’, only to have Hyoma smack the back of his head and call him stupid for even bringing that up.
“Jokes aside, Yoichi, your painting is marvelous and you’re going to win this!” Issei says and pulls him into a tight hug, his mother joining seconds later.
BEEP BEEP
“Oh, my mom is here to pick us up,” Hyoma yells from the front door. Meguru quickly sprints out, shouting greetings to Hyoma’s family, his mom and his sister.
“So sorry for the hassle of picking us up” Iyo says as she bows to Neneko, “Don’t worry about it, we have a van made for these kinds of trips” Neneko smiles and switches the door open to the van showing Koyuki and..
“Mom?!” Meguru shouts in disbelief, jumping onto the seat right behind his mother.
“But, I thought you were going to work late?”
“I took the time off, and besides, this is far more important” Yu says smiling to Yoichi, waving hello and getting a greeting back from both boys.
Issei insists he drives just so the ladies can sit in the back. Hyoma helped Yoichi place the painting in their trunk, making sure the painting won’t get ruined by the other bags and luggages, and walked back in the van, with Yoichi sitting in between Hyoma and Meguru, with Hyoma sitting next to his sister.
“Where to?” Issei asked, “Oh yeah, here, I’ll put the location on your maps” Neneko says taking the phone Issei handed to her, placing the location of the hotel they’re going to be staying in until the day after the competition. “Oh wow, this hotel is really pricey, are you sure we can’t just pitch in?” says Iyo, as she is concerned with the budget of one night in that hotel.
“What? No way, This is my gift to you after helping me out all through-out christmas, and this is actually owned by a friend of mine” Neneko says as she shrugs and hands Issei his phone back. “Really? Oh, thank you so much, Neneko” Iyo says, bringing Neneko in a tight hug, Yu joining in also wanting to say ‘thank you’.
Everyone seems to be enjoying the big day, well this big day is for me anyway, I wonder how they get the thought of me actually succeeding in this art competition. ‘All of them seem to be believing in me, but why?! Why do they have so much hope for me?! Haven’t I disappointed them enough with not winning from my last competition? They’re so happy for me, so..happy for me..why are they so proud of me? Why can’t I be that way about myself? Why do I keep bringing myself down even when they’re always here supporting me. I’m so stupid, so stupid, stupid, stupid-’
“Oyy Yoichi! Don’t look so down, cheer up would ya?” Meguru pouted as he crosses his arms, “Yeah yeah sorry” Yoichi replied, getting a smack on the back of his head as a response by Hyoma, “Stop having such negative thoughts, this was one time, maybe your luck wasn’t great that time, but maybe it’s ‘cause it’ll be used here” Hyoma said crossing his arms. “Yeah, I’ll stop” with Yoichi’s still obvious sulking face, Hyoma still glaring at him, going closer to yoichi, Meguru joining in, “Yeah! I’m stopping!” Yoichi yells annoyed by the two boys always teasing him, pushing them away from him. Hearing laughter from both ends, Yoichi joined in the laughter seconds later.
You know? I wish it could just be like this forever, me laughing with my best friends, and in a place where I’m close to everyone I love. Why can’t we just stay like this forever? Be young and always enjoy each other’s presence without the worry of what may happen in the future. Why can’t we just stay here? Forever together, nothing to tear us apart-
“Oy, I said stop sulking” Hyoma said, smacking Yoichi’s head again.
“Ah! I wasn’t even sulking, stupid”
“I can hear your thoughts” pointing to his ears with both his hands.
“What?! That’s just- wait, really?” Yoichi’s sudden curiousness grows.
“Pfft. Of course not, I just guessed lol” Saying as he laughed at how gullible Yoichi can be, getting a smack in return from Yoichi.
“Heyyy, let me join in on the fun” Meguru sulks and also smacks Hyoma on the head.
“Oy! Stop now!” Hyoma is clearly annoyed, and yet, hearing laughter from both of them makes him laugh as well.
What a trio they are. A lovely one at that.
__
“We’re here!” Issei yells. Everyone looks out the window, and sees the beautiful layout of plants.
The van parked just in front of the entrance, three hotel staff came out to help with carrying the luggage into the lounge, one pushing out a bellboy trolley, one placing the baggages on the trolley, and one driving the van to its designated parking spot.
“Woah! This place is big big” Meguru almost yelled out, but was hushed by Yoichi and Hyoma.
“You guys, can go out and explore Tokyo, maybe meet up with some friends?” Koyuki suggests throwing them a spare key with the number of their hotel room. “Woah that was quick”
“Hah?! Want it to be slower?” Koyuki says, obviously annoyed by the dumb question from Yoichi.
“Thank you, Ko-chan, We’ll be back before night falls,” Hyoma says, bowing, then grabbing the hem of the back of their collars, dragging them out of the hotel before they get an unnecessary scolding.
“You better be!” Koyuki yells from the hotel, doubting they even heard her. Huffs out of annoyance, “Koyuki! Help me head up to our room” Neneko yells from afar, far enough for Koyuki to only hear mumbling, but still hurried to her mom and the other parents, who are already waiting by the elevators.
__
Time skip: The day of the Competition
“C’mon Yoichi! Quick! In the van!” Hyoma shouts out to Yoichi. As Yoichi and Meguru place the painting carefully in between the extra seats at the back, in order for it not to be ruined.
“You think I look good in my outfit?” Yoichi asks to Meguru
SNAP. SNAP.
A shot of a camera can be heard from a distance, but it seems like Yoichi was the only one to notice, quickly looking at the direction of the sound, only to see a young man with blonde hair and blue streaks at the end of it, talking with a well dressed woman next to him. ‘He’s kinda hot’ Yoichi says to himself.
“Are you nervous?”
“Of course I am, Why wouldn’t I be? That’s such a stupid question”
“Fine, I’m sorry” Meguru sadly says, slowly sitting farther from Yoichi.
A sigh heard from Yoichi.
“Sorry, Meguru, I guess I’m just that nervous” putting emphasis on the ‘that’
A laugh from Meguru as his reply, “It’s fine, and you look great, don’t worry a thing”
“Yeah yeah, get in the fucking van” Hyoma says and harshly but quietly says the word ‘fucking’ just so his sister won’t hear him swear.
They did roll-call and drove off to the National Art Center.
–
The Blonde man looked at the picture he captured of the cute painter boy he just glanced at, “How cute” Blondie told to himself.
“Kaiser, were you even listening to me?” Elena says in frustration, thinking whether it was a good idea to bring in the Second-year psychology student with her as her photographer.
“Yeah, don’t worry ma’am, already know what you’d love to see” Kaiser says, waving his camera with a soft but an oblivious fake smile plastered on his face, “Perfect, just what I expect from the most voted photographer” Elena says as they both get into their ride to the center.
–
“It’s even bigger from the inside!” Meguru yells only for his mouth to be covered by Hyoma, “MyGoodness! Can’t your voice get any louder?” Hyoma says, Meguru giggles and says “It actually can,” only go tease Hyoma even more
A lady walked their way, noticing the big canvas in Yoichi’s hands, “Excuse me, are you a part of the finalist?” She asked politely with a gentle smile on her face.
“Uh yes actually”
“May I see the letter?”
“What-”
“Here you go” Iyo hands her the envelope signed by the director she took from her purse.
The lady opened the envelope, handed them wrist bands, and led them to the Exhibition hall where the competition was being held.
–
The guard unclipped the clip from the fence and let only Yoichi in, “No family members allowed in the competition, only view” The guard said in somewhat broken japanese, his family and friends respected, walked away not forgetting to wave goodbye and hugs for goodluck, then took a seat on one of the empty tables near where Yoichi’s spot is placed.
Painters in front of their respective paintings, publicly showing for all of the other judges and artists to see.
Yoichi set his painting on the canvas and took out his phone only to see goodluck messages from his other friends, ‘looks like Meguru told everyone’ Yoichi chuckled and put his phone back in his pocket.
SNAP. SNAP.
“There’s that familiar sound again, sounds like an expensive camera” Yoichi talked to himself, waiting on other judges to check out his work
One by one came, but the one judge he was looking for hasn’t paid him a visit.
About to sulk and huff, he hears a satisfied ‘oh’ behind him, Elena Weissmann herself was just standing a few feet away from Yoichi. Yoichi stiffens his stand, ready to hear the woman’s critique of his painting, and it looks like she is being accompanied by the blondie from earlier, but staring intensely at him, realization strikes Yoichi on the head realizing that the woman the blondie was with was actually Ms. Weissmann.
SNAP SNAP
‘Was he-’ His thoughts were disturbed by the woman, catching the man’s stare unwavering… almost hungry, noticing how the man is merely focused on him rather than the painting.
“This is such a beautiful piece” Ms. Weissmann says, as her sharp eyes tracing every brush stroke that was placed on his very canvas, trying to figure out what it could mean to the boy
Blushing at the compliment, Yoichi thanks the woman
SNAP.
The camera clicked again
Ms. Weissmann tilted her head, almost considering the boy.
“Tell me..” Ms. Weissmann looks closely at his name tag, “..Yoi-ch-i”
“-what have the other judges asked about this work of yours?”
Shocked by the unexpected question, Yoichi didn’t show the face of hesitation, but answered right away.
“They asked about the colors. Why I chose so many different hues. And about the way I painted the light, like it was moving. I told them it was about freedom. The kind that makes you feel alive even when you’re just standing still.” Yoichi says as if he was reading a script.
Ms. Weissmann thinks for a while, placing her chin in between the spaces of her thumb and index finger, “I like you-” She says all of a sudden, making Yoichi jolt a bit.
“-You’re the only person I can not read in this whole exhibition, and that, that is a good sign. I feel that you can really be a definition to freedom” She continued, grabbing her paper from the blondie next to her then took the pen that was attached to her blazer already wanting to grade the boy.
Yoichi sighs in relief.
“Wait”
A sharp and cold voice spoke, it seemed like it’s coming from the blondie. The word was casual, almost lazy, but his eyes sharpened on the canvas. He pointed with the tip of his finger, not touching, just hovering.
“This… here. The streaks in the reflection. They’re not random, are they? You’ve repeated them. Almost… like a pattern you want to recreate.”
Yoichi blinked, caught off guard, not by the observation, but by the interest in his voice. Most judges had brushed past the finer strokes, calling them “background texture.” But this stranger, the last person he would think of, he’d noticed.
A cough was heard from the sprout boy, clearing his throat,“It’s intentional. Those strokes mirror the gate’s arches above. Light should bend, echo, multiply. Even if no one notices it at first, the painting remembers. I didn’t want the reflection to just copy reality. I wanted it to carry the memory of what it stands under.”
His tone was firm, unflinching, and no hesitation.
Elena raised her brows, impressed. She turned to Kaiser, her smile subtle but approving.
“Sharp eye, Kaiser. And a sharper explanation. He sees, and he knows what he is doing.”
Kaiser didn’t reply, only nodding his head. His camera lifted again, the lens fixed not on the painting but on Yoichi’s face.
SNAP.
Yoichi shifted uncomfortably under the weight of that stare, those ocean-blue eyes narrowing like they were trying to consume him whole.
“I like you, Mr. Isagi. You defend your art with clarity. That will take you far.”
Yoichi bowed his head, heat rising in his cheeks. But as Elena scribbled down her score, he could still feel it—the pull of the blond man’s gaze, heavy, curious, relentless.
–
“How was it?” Meguru asks, munching on his croissant, “It was great” Yoichi says as he looks like he could finally fly to cloud nine.
SNAP.
‘There it is again’ Yoichi thought to himself, turning around to the sound of the camera, only seeing other participants around him.
Yoichi ignores it and goes back talking to Hyoma and Meguru.
–
“May all the finalists’ attend the Exhibition Center for the announcement of the winner”
The hours blurred into one another, each passing stroke of time weighted with anticipation. When the finalists were finally gathered back into the exhibition hall, all taking their seats, the air seemed denser, murmurs and half-formed predictions.
Yoichi stood stiff among the other competitors, his palms damp. Yoichi’s chest thrummed as though his ribcage couldn’t contain his heart.
At the front, Ms. Weissmann adjusted the microphone, her voice commanding silence. “We thank all participants for the remarkable artistry and soul you’ve poured into this year’s competition. But-” Her eyes scanned the hall before they landed on the familiar metallic blue that had struck her hours earlier. “-only three pieces out of forty-eight finalists captured both the technical brilliance and emotional sincerity we were searching for.”
The hall held its breath. Announcing from bottom to top.
“Third place, Kento Takahashi” The crowd applauded, A man standing from his seat and walking his way to the stage with the painting on hand. Taking the certificate and ticket, smiling to the camera, then sets his painting on the canvas stand with the sticker of third place on it.
Yoichi, sweating ridiculously with his hands jittering and head down, fingers crossed wanting his name to be called.
“Second place, Rin Itoshi”
Gasps fluttered through the crowd. Rin walked to the stage with his usual stoic composure, his sharp eyes cutting across the audience as though the whole affair were beneath him. Yet when he stood beside the others, there was no mistaking the simmer of pride beneath his calm.
Yoichi’s throat tightened, shutting his eyes, only wishing to go home and not feel the disappointment. That meant only meant-
“First place,” Ms. Weissmann declared, “goes to..”
She flips the envelope open.
“-Isagi Yoichi.”
Gasps rippled through the crowd, followed by applause that rose like a tide. Yoichi blinked, frozen, until he forced his own two feet to walk him up the stage with his shaking hands carrying his canvas. His legs carried him numbly to the stage, where Ms. Weissmann extended her hand, smiling with admiration.
“You’ve reminded us,” she said softly as he shook her hand, “what it means to feel through art.”
The applause continued, but what Yoichi noticed more than the cheers was a pair of eyes-sharp, unrelenting-from behind the flashing camera lights.
Kaiser.
Unlike the other photographers, who snapped before moving on, Kaiser’s lens seemed glued to him, tracking his every movement with impatience. Even when the crowd surged forward to take more pictures, his camera never wavered, clicking in a rhythm that felt like a heartbeat.
When Yoichi stepped down from the stage clutching his certificate, his gaze accidentally brushed against Kaiser’s. The blond didn’t smile, didn’t blink. He only lowered the camera slightly, revealing a small, unreadable curve of his lips—half curiosity, half something else.
Yoichi’s stomach tightened. The applause faded into static. For the first time, he felt the weight of being truly seen.
SNAP.
“How cute” Michael says to himself as he takes another shot of the sprout boy.