August 22nd is Art Remembrance Day! That’s why I want to post some pictures I’m still proud of today. ^^
Ever since I was able to hold a pencil, I was drawing. I even went to a special boarding school with extra art classes. :D Well, I don’t have that many pictures from back then. I’m not very proud of them, anyway. That’s why I want to show you some of my own favorites.
For the dates and descriptions you can click on the pics.
Whoops…most of them are No. 6 pictures. ^^ (There are even more I really like. For example this Safu picture I’ve drawn for Safu’s birthday:
Or this one from 2014:
Ooor this one because it was sooooo much work. XD From 2015:
OK THIS IS ENOUGH! X’D OKAY! Thank you, whoever decided that we have Art Remembrance Day today. I learned that I can be proud of some of my artworks. Even really old stuff. And even though there are a lot of mistakes… I know that I can still improve myself. ^^
And I really want to thank you, my followers. Thank you for your support.
No. 6, what will you do? You, the city that looks down on us in our darkness, and glitters in all its deception and artifice, will you too grovel on the ground one day and beg for forgiveness? But there will be no gods to grant you mercy. Clad in that golden robe of yours, you’ll crumble, burn to ashes, and perish. I’ll live until the moment the curtains fall on your finale. I’ll keep living, and see the end with my own eyes.
Nezumi tilted his head slightly in perplexity at Shion’s words.
“What’re you talking about? It hasn’t stopped yet.”
The elevator was still ascending. It continued to glide smoothly up. Shion lightly placed his finger on the edge of his eye.
“No, the tears. Look, they’ve stopped.”
Nezumi’s cheeks suddenly emitted a furious glow.
“Idiot. This isn’t the time to be making lame observations. If you have time to be making fun of me, concentrate on the damn door. Once it opens, we don’t know what’s gonna hit us.”
“I wasn’t making fun of you. I just saw that they stopped―”
“Shut up. Just―shut up.”
Nezumi turned obstinately aside. His gesture was that of a sullen child.
Shion found it humorous.
Cool, ironic, stronger and more beautiful than anyone else―that was the kind of person Nezumi had always been, and that never changed. But behind it all, even he had a childish, emotional side like this. He still had some immaturity left in him to feel agitated when he was unable to control his emotions.
Shion had seen Nezumi’s tears for the first time. When he saw the boy choking on the unbearable tumult of his emotions, there was only one emotion that welled up inside Shion, and it was love. It was neither friendship nor adoration. Neither romance nor awe. Just love.
He felt an uncontrollable pull of love for the boy’s vulnerable tears. He wanted to protect him with his life.
The howling wind and the sound of rain echoed in his ears.
It was the sound of that storm. The emotions he had felt on that stormy night when he met Nezumi were revived in himself. And like he had been so many years ago, he had been stirred to action by these feelings.
I want to protect him with my life.
Of course, this was only Shion’s self-absorbed and one-sided sentiment. Nezumi wasn’t fragile to the point of needing Shion’s protection. He would learn this the hard way, much later. Shion had been the one being protected. It had always been this way.
The sounds of the storm showed no signs of dying down. It still roared vividly.
Shion thought of the boy who had appeared before him that night, his shoulder drenched with blood much like he was now, except the boy had been so slender and delicate then. He was so small, and wounded so badly that he could barely remain standing. But despite that, his eyes had glowed brilliantly, full of life, and carried no shadow at all. The boy had neither clung to him, nor begged for his help. On the contrary, he had coolly scrutinized Shion.
What kind of person are you?
Even now, the question still remained sitting before Shion’s eyes. He had not given an answer yet.
What kind of person am I?
My reason, my passion, my folly, my greed, my justice―what shape do they take?
He spread his fingers. There was blood caked on them. Was it his own, or that man’s? His palm and five fingers, dirtied in muddy red.
Zombie Apocalypse AU. Nezumi & Shion are hiding in one of the abandoned houses. Nezumi wakes up one morning and panics when he doesn’t see Shion next to him. He runs outside, and breathes out a sigh of relief when he sees the white haired boy walking back to the house, carrying bottles of water.
Nezumi wastes no time and starts lecturing Shion the moment they step inside the house. He tells him about how careless he is and how he should always always tell him where he’s going or better yet, never leave without him. Nezumi does not tell him about the fear that filled his heart the moment that he felt empty space next to him in their makeshift bed. Fear that maybe one day, that empty space will remain there and will haunt him forever.
Shion apologizes and everything is okay again. They look for another hideout later that afternoon, since zombies managed to get in their old one.
It is night time and while Nezumi is thinking about whether he should stay up to keep watch, Shion calls out his name. He asks, “If I… turn into one of them… what would you do?”. Nezumi does not want to reply, but Shion repeats the question. Nezumi looks straight into Shion’s eyes and finally replies, “I would kill you, Your Majesty.”
Shion laughs and mumbles something along the lines of ‘as expected’. Then he tells Nezumi that he wouldn’t be really killing him, but would actually be saving him from that kind of misery. Shion moves away from Nezumi and lies down on the floor. With his back facing him, he says, “If you were to turn, Nezumi, I won’t kill you. I won’t have the chance to,” his voice is low and soft. “I would probably take my own life before yours.”