sirenspull_logs | Painting pictures with my mind

Entry tags:

Painting pictures with my mind

Who: Hinamori Momo (

plum_that_snaps) and Kuchiki Byakuya (

soul_scatter)
When: Tuesday, April 10, evening
Where: An art gallery in Sector 3
Summary: Two shinigami share their taste in art.
Warnings: None!

Hinamori flipped over the glossy, full color postcard announcing the opening of a new exhibition at a small art gallery catering to young, emerging artists in the Port. Exhibition open all day. Reception, 6-8pm. It looked like precisely the sort of thing she would like to go to. She liked art, perhaps more than she let on, and it was a chance to get out and see more of the city. It seemed like it would be a nice affair, cultured but not too high-brow or elitist.

She decided to wear some of the more casual clothes she had bought since arriving in the Port, figuring that her shinigami hakama would make her stand out far more than she wanted. As she came downstairs, she saw Captain Kuchiki at the kitchen table, buried in papers. She just looked at him for a while. He worked so hard. A little absent-mindedly, at times, but really dedicated to his work and his students. She admired that.

Hinamori approached him cautiously. "Captain... Kuchiki? I... don't know if you're interested, but I was going to go out and see this exhibition tonight. It's for a showing of up-and-coming artists in the Port, at a gallery over in Sector Three? I would be glad for some company, if you'd like to join me." She thought perhaps he could use a break from work, and she did always prefer spending time with others to being alone.

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Byakuya moved on to the next painting, unable to answer for a moment. "My father died when I was young, as did my mother." How to explain things? "My grandfather was taichou and head of the clan."

Meaning he was often under the care of servants who weren't his family, and treated him with the distant respect that the only heir of the head of the clan deserved. He didn't know how to explain it. Unohana-taichou would understand, as would a few others.

"Those in Rukongai..." A pause as he tried to find the words. "Family is not always those that you are born to." Rukia.

Hinamori thought that perhaps... perhaps she was the idiot Hitsugaya-kun always called her. Perhaps she had been intolerably selfish, to feel sorry for herself. Not knowing her parents, always wondering who they might be, walking up and down streets looking at all the faces, thinking, "Maybe that's them..."

But to have them and then lose them... to have actually met them, even for a moment, and then to know that without a doubt, they were gone, to not even have the hope that someday they might magically appear and come for her... that was worse, surely? She felt ignorant. Stupid. Naive.

But at his last sentence, her heart warms. Her face turns up into a smile. Hitsugaya-kun. Granny. "Mm," she murmurs. She simply looks quietly at the painting in front of her, smiling, happily, not really looking at the painting so much as through it. She, at least, had not had a solitary childhood. Though her personality would have forced her to seek out company in almost any form; nonetheless she had been blessed, to have found such friends, such family as she had.

Byakuya didn't think her an idiot. He didn't talk much about his family, but then who would he talk to? All the ones he would talk to knew what had happened, and had been there - why should he talk to them? They understood why he was the way he was.

Others though? To some of them he would talk (but only certain details, and certain people would get more details than others ~~Renji~~) but they never asked and he was not one to simply open up randomly to those outside of his comfort zone.

"Sculpture or painting is your favorite?"

"Oh, ah, p— painting, I think. I've never paid a lot of attention to sculptures, I suppose." Except for Histugaya-kun's, and that was partly because they were his. She looked around the room for a sculpture, so she could check herself and see if that was fair. Perhaps she would reconsider her position, after taking a second look.

Painting? He glanced at her, with a ticked up eyebrow. "Hitsugaya-taichou sculpts." Yes, he knew. He remembered last year when the other taichou had made the sculptures.

"There is more in the next hall." He nodded in the correct direction, then drifted in that direction.

He stopped in front of an abstract sculpture that reminded him of the wind flowing through trees. "I would have thought you preferred the sculptures to paintings. Do you paint?"

"Ah, yes, I know. I like his sculptures. I really do." Although perhaps what she liked most was watching the light dance through the ice, reflect off its surface. It was... almost magical, otherworldly.

"They always melt, though..." She said, a bit sadly. If she could, she would have had them all stay just as they were forever. A collection of everything he had ever sculpted, for her to enjoy anytime she wished. The medium he worked with was what she loved about them, and yet she hated its transience. Hated losing things.

Hinamori followed Captain Kuchiki into the hall, stopping when he did and trying to really look at the sculpture in front of her.

"N-no," she replied in answer to his question. "But I draw a lot. I like to take the world and make it—" She hesitated, unsure how she felt about sharing her personal thoughts. But she had already started, so it was a little late to go back now. "...make it the way I want it."

Byakuya glanced at her again. He understood the sentiment. The melting and the making of the world the way you want it. It was what he always tried, and failed, to do with his money, his power.

"I would enjoy seeing some of your work." It was said softly, for him it would be almost tentative, if someone knew what to listen for. "If you would not mind."

But the pause after was awkward, because Byakuya honestly felt that he overstepped a boundary that he'd always maintained.

"No!" Hinamori looked at him and her face bloomed into an excited, radiant smile. "I would love to show you." She had whole stacks of them back at the house, mostly sketches, things here and there, a few properly finished, one in particular she was waiting to give to Hitsugaya... but the thought of having someone see her work, of sharing the things that made her happy, was wonderful.

She turned back to the piece in front of them. "Which do you prefer? The paintings or the sculptures."

Byakuya was a little taken aback by her enthusiastic reply. He wasn't used to people responding to him that way. They just didn't. He was well used to it.

"The paintings. I am far more familiar with them. Sculpture is... too heavy at times." It was the only way he could describe it really. It was too full, too real at times and it touched his emotions in ways that he could not deal with. He understood that about himself and did not force himself to deal with them because no good ever came from it.

He could have been the Spirit King himself and she would have responded the same way. Few things brought her as much joy as sharing things she loved with others.

"Too... heavy..." she repeated. It made sense; she understood a little what he was trying to say. There was a presence to sculpture, the way it took up space.

"I wonder what it is," she said, beginning to walk again, "that draws different people to art. To different types of art, I mean. For some it's music, for some painting, for some pottery, or call—" She froze, blinking. Calligraphy. Her heart hurt. "Ah, I mean— ikebana, or..." She smiled. "Even the appreciation of sweets!" Hinamori missed Kusajishi-chan. Missed all the vice-captains. Missed everyone.

Byakuya knew what she was going to say. Calligraphy. Something that Aizen had been especially skilled at. He was also skilled at it, but he didn't bring that up. "I am sure Unohana-taichou would be delighted to have ikebana classes with you." Because he knew she'd do it. If for no other reason than because Hinamori would like it. He wondered if perhaps she would offer classes once again, perhaps at the Newcomer Center.

He wandered with Hinamori, his mind distracted for a moment. "Art is personal. It, like a chained or plus soul, is a manifestation of the innermost of the soul, a physical representation of the being within."

He didn't analyze what that made him... Wakame Ambassador....

Hinamori's face perked up. "Do... do you really think so?" She hadn't wanted to ask, to be an imposition, even though Captain Unohana was one of the few captains she didn't feel intimidated by. (Hinamori, being polite and obedient, had never actually had chance to see the female captain's frightening side directed towards her.) "I suppose it's been longer than I realized. I— I would like that."

Hinamori came to a stop in front of a bright painting of vibrant yellow and red flowers. "I wonder if a soul could be chained to its art..." She knew that souls sometimes became chained to locations, or to people, if those things had been important to them in their past life. It was a sad thought, and yet one she understood— wanting to hold onto something so much that you were willing to destroy yourself.

"I do." Byakuya knew that Unohana would not mind. In fact, she might be able to be convinced to run an entire class. He would enjoy taking them again, even though ikebana was not his art of choice.

He looked at the flowers. "I would hope not." He said, honestly. "Though, a soul can be chained to anything in life. If the connection is strong enough."

"A strong connection..." Hinamori murmured. "They're important. They make life worth living." But they also make you afraid to lose them.

That was far too heavy a subject for an enjoyable evening out, so she switched to a lighter question.

"Do you have any kind of art you particularly enjoy doing, ah— Captain Kuchiki?"

That they did. But when all the strong connections were destroyed one way or another and your only other strong connection was to people who feared you... He refused to think about it. He was the Kuchiki and that meant something to him, even if it meant nothing to anyone else.

He glanced at her, vaguely amused by the question. He almost said 'Wakame Ambassador'. Almost.

"Poetry." He said, instead. "I enjoy writing as well as reading. Though I claim not artistic talent for it."

"That's... what you teach at the university, isn't it? You must have some talent, if you're well-versed enough in it to teach."

The faintest twitch of his lips was the only indication he was amused. If she was quick, she'd catch it. "Certainly more than I do for drawing."

Kuchiki just made a joke. Surely the world was coming to an end.

And that was the straw that broke the camel's back. Or at least Hinamori's resolve. She laughed, a natural, ringing laugh that echoed through the quiet hall before she slapped her hand to her mouth in embarrassment. Several heads turned to look at her, some of them disapprovingly.

"Ah—" She turned her head down, too embarrassed to look him in the eye. "I'm s-so sorry, Captain Kuchiki; I shouldn't laugh."

Byakuya glanced at those who dared look at her disapprovingly. His cold look was worse than theirs. He wasn't going to allow them ruin her enjoyment of the outing.

"I see no reason to apologize." Byakuya wasn't going to allow the evening to be ruined. "You have done nothing wrong."

Her surprise showed on her face, though she still couldn't bring herself to look up at him. She had expected silence, reproof even, but not pardon. Not from Captain Kuchiki.

She hiked her shoulders back to stand closer to attention, an unconscious bodily reflex to make up for her perceived transgression. "Ah, o-of course. For—" She stopped herself from apologizing for her apology. Hitsugaya-kun had told her not to do that.

She looked around the room, noticing the other people, most of whom had gone back to talking quietly and minding their own business. "This place is actually much bigger than it looks from the outside. I never would have guessed."

Byakuya enjoyed hearing people laugh. They did it so rarely in his presence. He wished they'd do it more. Not that they would, but he wished they would.

"Would you like to explore more?" Byakuya slid a glance. "Or, we can enjoy the rest of the evening by fetching dinner and desert." Because he wasn't above enjoying himself.

"Ah! That sounds... good." Her stomach gurgled appreciatively. "Perhaps... I'm a little hungrier than I realized."

Another amused twitch of his mouth. "There is a well-known restaurant in Sector 6. Hitsugaya-taichou and I often go there." Or have it delivered. "They have a nice selection of food from home, as well as native dishes."

He nodded toward the door and started walking with her.

Hinamori's face perked up in attentiveness at that. It wasn't that she took an unusual interest in things pertaining to her best friend. Not at all. Though she would of course have to compare notes with him once she returned.

"Food... from home would be nice." She was suddenly reminded of Hitsugaya-kun mentioning that Captain Kuchiki was completely unable to cook. She wanted to ask him about it, but thought that would be terribly rude. She had already laughed at him once this evening. For her, food from home always meant home-cooked meals—Granny's cooking—though the same dishes made by chefs were obviously just as appreciated.

Hinamori followed him to the door, giving a deep appreciative bow to the receptionist on her way out (who just raised an eyebrow and went back to typing).

Hinamori was just like Htisugaya. Interesting. That was something he would have to protect, if for no other reason than he didn't want it used against them and paranoid or not, he worried over such things.

He held open the door for her again and stepped out. "Shall we?" He stepped into shun-po but didn't leave her behind. That was a petty cruelty and there was no reason. He wanted her to join him for dinner, even if they just took it home.

Alighting in front of the restaurant, he held open the door for her again, and ignored the interested look from the waitress.

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