Part Two

“No, no, no,” I shook my head repeatedly. “I’ll show you again, and watch closely this time.”

“You’ve shown me, like, six times already, Yadome,” Hikaru sighed. “Maybe I’m just hopeless at this.”

We were now in the art classroom. Tables and chairs were scattered about the area, and Hikaru and I had taken two seats next to each other at a hardwood workbench. Each of us had a sheet of thin canvas in front of us, and a small clay bowl filled with those fancy kneadable erasers served as our model.

I had taken the liberty of sharpening a couple of wooden pencils for us before we started, but Hikaru’s was already wearing down to a tiny nub of lead.

“You’re not hopeless, you’re just…” I trailed off as I squinted at the mess of scribbles and erased pencil marks that were etched into his paper.

I had no words.

“Look, you don’t even know how to comfort me, that’s how bad it is!” he cried as he slumped down, tucking his head in his arms on the bench. I watched him stay that way for a moment.

“I think I might not be teaching you in the right way,” I considered aloud. “I haven’t taught anyone how to draw before, I don’t really know the best method.” Come to think of it, I don’t think I had taught anyone how to do anything before this moment. I had just mindlessly sat us in front of a subject and told him to copy how I was drawing it. “I’m sorry, Hikaru. I’ll think of something.”

Still slouched, Hikaru turned his head to look at me mournfully. The afternoon sunlight pouring in from a nearby window caught in his dusty brown hair, and it made his brown eyes glimmer with an almost fantastical shine. I let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding.

“You’re so kind, Yadome,” he said gently. “Why don’t you talk with more people in class? You’d have friends in no time.”

I blinked at the unexpected question and confusing compliment, but decided to focus on the former. “I…don’t think they like me very much. I probably frighten them because I don’t talk very much.”

Hikaru hummed in thought as he looked back at his sketch. “I don’t see what’s so scary about a quiet person.”

Honestly, I didn’t think people stayed away from me just because I was quiet; it had more to do with my behavior and disposition. If someone asked me something, I would give short, efficient answers that left little room for conversation. I made no effort to reach out first.

My appearance, too, wasn’t exactly the most inviting: the long, dark hair that framed my face was often frizzy and unkempt. I didn’t feel the need to maintain it and usually kept most of it tied back. 

The women in our family didn’t wear makeup, so I didn’t, either, which meant the dark circles under my eyes were more prominent. I tried not to meet people’s gazes, if I could avoid it. They always looked perturbed when I did, as if they regretted seeing what my face looked like.

Hikaru seemed different, though. From what I could tell so far, he was an earnest, friendly boy who clearly was not a very good judge of character. Most people were wise enough to stay away from me, but not Hikaru. He struck me as the kind of person who would leave the kitchen sink running and bump into glass doors.

And yet, I found a kind of peaceful feeling when my eyes met his, and it felt as though the world and all its chains fell away. I found myself wanting more of that strange feeling.

“Let’s uh, focus on drawing something smaller,” I suggested. “Can you draw a cube?”

“A cube? But that’s boring,” he complained as he sat upright.

“Sometimes you have to start with something boring before you can do something interesting,” I explained. “Think about it. If you can make a convincing cube, from there, you could adapt it and draw a car, or a radio…” My mind blanked suddenly. “I can’t think of anything cubic that isn’t a machine.”

Hikaru laughed, a light, airy sound that reminded me of raindrops falling on a roof. “I get it, it’s a good idea. I think I can do that.” He lifted his pencil and began.

“You’re persistent, Hikaru. I think if you have an attitude like that, you’ll learn how to draw in no time. You can do anything, really, with that kind of optimism.”

Oh, that’s what it was. That’s why I wanted to be in his company. This boy was so very hopeful. His eagerness was infectious, and I think I had forgotten what that kind of simple curiosity felt like. It had been so long since I had taken interest in the things around me.

“This…isn’t so bad,” Hikaru said, taking his hand away from the paper so he could appreciate his work.

I leaned over to see it, too, my shoulder brushing past his I did. The proportions were even. “You’re right. That’s definitely a cube. Draw a few more, until it feels easy.”

“Okay!” He nodded, his vigor renewed.

“These basic things are vital. When I draw, I don’t do it with the end in mind at every step. I think of it as imagining each part, layer by layer, until the image reveals itself.”

“Hm.” He stopped sketching to look at me with a comically blank expression. “I don’t really get it.”

I pursed my lips, trying to hold back a smile. “That’s just how I do it, you can do it differently.”
“I’m just joking,” he cracked a wide grin. “If it works for you, there must be something to it. I’ll try thinking of it that way. ‘Layer by layer.’”

As we continued, I showed him a little about light sources, shading, and highlights. Hikaru and I sketched in silence for a few moments.

“Yadome, do you have any siblings? I’ve got a little brother, in middle school. His name’s Jun.”

My hand freezes on the paper. I should have seen this coming. This is what people do when they spend time together; they get to know one another.

How much could I tell him? How much should I tell him?

“What’s wrong? Why are you making that face?” He stopped, glancing at me curiously.

“What face?”

“You look…worried. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“I…” I looked away. “I have an older sister. Her name is Kairi.”

“Oh!” Hikaru exclaimed. “I thought you’d be the oldest in your family. I’m usually pretty good at guessing that kind of thing.”

“Well, you’re not wrong. I am the oldest in my family, now,” I said.

Hikaru’s confused expression deepened. “But, I thought…”

“Sister Kairi’s not in this world anymore, but I don’t really feel that way. It feels like she’s still here.” I paused. “Maybe that doesn’t make much sense, but it’s how I feel.” I glanced back at Hikaru with a small smile.

His eyes were wide with concern. “I’m sorry, Yadome. I didn’t know, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” I shook my head. “I should be thanking you. I love my sister. Thinking of her brings me more joy than it does sorrow.”

“Then…what was—what is she like?” he asked hesitantly.

“Vibrant. Energetic, beautiful. She isn’t like me at all,” I smiled softly.

“You don’t think you’re beautiful?”

“Well,” I scoffed a little, “I don’t think…” I met Hikaru’s gaze, and his warm brown eyes met locked on mine. I fell silent.

“It’s what they say about art, isn’t it?” he whispered. “‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.’”

My breath shortened and my heart began to dance, jumping, twirling, doing things that didn’t seem healthy or normal. What did my face look like? I’m sure it looked awful. “Late,” I blurted, my voice coming out in a thin, humiliating squeak.

“Huh?”

“Late, I’m running late. I should go.” It was true. The sun was visible from a nearby window.

“Oh, okay.” His face fell slightly as he stood up and collected our pencils and erasers. “I think our houses are in the same direction for the most part. Is it okay if I walk with you until we split up?”

“Sure,” I agreed as I stuffed my paper into my shoulder bag. It would be fine so long as he didn’t come close to my house.

I looked out the window again. The sun was lower than I expected, and dropping fast. I had to hurry.