The Magical Night Series by The StoryTeller of Old

A Blinding Color

A Magical Night: A Blinding Color

Rated: T

                I sprung off my bed or my mattress on the ground with no sheets or bed frame. I headed to the shower where I pulled back wild strands of hair into a ponytail. Then, I popped a bagel into my mouth. It was a rainy day in London, 2001.

I peddled on a bike that was obviously too big for my short limbs, but I made it work. That’s what you did in Britain, you made things work. I threw my head back, enjoying the cool air mess up what little appearance I had thrown together. My bike skidded to a stop at my job.

I threw my bag that was barely hanging together, across my shoulders. Pausing to hold the door open for a fellow employee, we exchanged smiles. And, that’s how my day started.

I rolled out the good stuff. Paintbrushes of all odd shapes and sizes, bits of rag for blending, and the colors. I had customary bottles full of colors I had mixed, colors I had bought in extravagant places like India, and colors I could only get from the most unexpected of places. I once used four-hundred tiny bottles of nail polish to finish a hundred by two-hundred square inch painting. I couldn’t find that shade anywhere else. My boss had called me crazy. My friends laughed at this. But, this painting sold for a quarter of a million dollars.

I never had to go somewhere for inspiration. I was raised by two vegan-hippie parents that told me that inspiration was inside me and that there was this bright blinding light surrounding us our whole lives and we never noticed it. I strongly believe in the first piece of advice they gave me. The second, I think was brought upon by too much Maryjane and “ecstatic” behavior.

I had to use a ladder to create this next piece. I grabbed a rather large white canvas. It appeared to be fifty by forty square inches. However, I had a daunting task to put my dreams down. I had a big dream and I needed just as much space to put it all down.

“Hojo!” my voice belted out.

“What?!” he screamed back. I could tell from his voice where his location was. So, I sauntered over towards him. He had his back turned away from the world, towards his computer where he would handle the financial aspects of the company.

“Is this the biggest canvas we have?” I asked, making sure to pout my lips for dramatic effect.

“Yes, Kagome. This is the biggest canvas we have right now,” he sighed, already exasperated.

“Well, when will we get bigger ones?” I pestered on.

He decided to swing around in his chair to answer me.

“We won’t get bigger canvases until next month.” Hm. He said that a little too quickly for my likes.

“He’s lying. We just got bigger canvases!” Miroku yelled, carrying them in.

“Yay!” I clapped.

“Miroku, you’re fired!” Hojo yelled.

“You can’t fire him because you’re not au-thor-ized!” I spat, blowing a raspberry.

Miroku passed by me, giving me a high-five.

I skipped away, directing some workers to carry the canvas to my favorite working spot. My favorite working spot was on “the bridge”. The bridge was a little overpass inside the large building that I worked in. It was this large strip of metal with bars that created a fence on either side of it. Below it was thirty feet of a free-fall that would kill you before you said tessaiga. But, on the flip side, the south wall was completely glass, and it allowed you to see a beautiful sunset. And, this sunset was my good luck, my kiss on the shoulder, my guiding star.

I usually had my earbuds in my ears while I worked. I love listening to Mattia Cupelli.

As my fingers danced across the canvas, they took on a strange movement. It was as if they were actually more jubilant than normal to be dancing across the canvas. My fingers twirled as long streams of bright red lit up the monotonous canvas. It was as if my hands were moving in a way that was familiar to them, as if falling into a rhythm that had been known to them since the oldest of times. And, I was quite sure that I had never painted something of this kind.

                Shades of tan splashed against a white background. I had used all of my bits of rag for the different shades, for the shadows. And, I had used only the whitest of whites, only the shades I had customized and collected that had been saved for a very special occasion.

                My hands did not move of my own accord. My body was a slave to this burning desire to finish the painting. The sun was a beating, hot force that had become my ever-constant companion during this trial. But, I had to finish it.

The dirty mason jars of paints had gone dry, all they had left of me were dried up finger impressions scattered upon their outsides. But, I didn’t care about them. I didn’t care about the sweat on my back or forehead. I cared about “it”.

The face was beautifully sculpted. There was a strong jaw made with smooth lines that slightly curved into a chin that was pointed upwards. Thin lines formed a pursed mouth that puffed slightly as if they wanted to speak. This allowed the view of the ends of two pearly white teeth. Two long red slashes curved downwards and started at each cheek.

Two minuscule lines ran down parallel of each other until scooping outwards to form a nose. Hard strong lines were drawn to form the outline. Then, inside this outline were bright shades of white. A blue crescent sat on his forehead. And, it ended. I stepped back, my legs shaky. What was I missing? For some reason, I could not figure out his eyes. I forgot what color they were, what size they were, and the specs of…what was it again?

Hojo had walked by and paused in alarm at my facial expression. He turned his head up to the painting. Then, he turned his expression back towards mine in understanding.

He patted me on the shoulder. “You’ll figure it out. You always do.” Then, he walked away.

I stared at it until the sun had set. And, while my bright companion had begun to rest for the night, I could not. I, Kagome Higurashi, was…out of inspiration.

I stayed. I sat. I leaned against the railing. I laid down on my back. Nothing was working. All the lights were shut off in the building with the exception of the lights on the first floor. The last person, a janitor, had begun to noisily sweep.

“Hey, could you not? I am trying to find inspiration!” I said, waving my hands for emphasis.

“Yeah, you look like you’re trying,” he said under his breath.

“What did you say?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“I said you sure do look like you’re trying,” he repeated, haughtily.

“What do you know about art? You’ve never sold a painting in your life,” I sneered.

“This Sesshomaru may have little experience with art, but this one does know when someone isn’t trying.”

“What do you expect me to do? Wildly slash colors against it? That sounds ridiculous-“

“No. I expect you to go and find that color that’s missing,” he added. My eyes caught his liquid amber topaz ones and my heart had jutted unexpectedly.

“How?” I asked, frustrated.

“Well, don’t you always have your music on, first?”

“Yes.” I looked up. He had his arm outstretched to me. I reluctantly took his hand and stood with him.

He began to play a song by Mattia Cupelli and my hips had taken to a slow sway and my waist was in his arms and everything began to feel at one again. My body was unusually giddy and my palms had gotten slightly sweaty. And, we danced.

He had pressed his lips to mine and as if by magic, my lids had grown extremely heavy.

“I t-think I need to lay down,” I gasped, almost falling to the ground. His strong arms helped me to a sitting position.

I laid down my head, but I refused to shut my eyes. My eyesight had gone slightly blurry.

He kneeled down beside me, his body facing south. He immediately shook me.

“Look! There it is…”

I looked up at him. He turned towards me, smiling. Two red stripes across his face….a blue moon on his temple…and the sunlight had caught in his eyes making them illuminate.

And, I then knew that this was goodbye…

I struggled to stretch out my arm towards him. “No, wait!”

My lids slowly opened. I was lying on the floor in the same position I had been in the dream with no mysterious hot guy beside me. I sighed aloud. I noticed shards of light shooting across the floors. It was a sunrise.

I had found the color I needed all along, and it was surrounding me…the entire time.