Painting the Moon

Tatsuki looked at him; Keiren must have really liked the sound of his own voice since he didn’t seem to understand what Tatsuki meant. It intrigued him a little but he didn’t want to insult the singer since he was already walking thin ice and daring Keiren to a game of ‘Russian roulette’ with a full barrel, theoretically speaking of course. “What I meant Keiren-san, is that when one does not show me their true feelings. I no longer see their face…it just becomes a gray slate” he said turning and folding up his large black umbrella and tucking it under his arm he picked up the thick leather case with his supplies and picked up the smaller black umbrella using it as a shield from the sun.

“To become faceless is a pity in its own might”

“I can’t even remember my own mothers face.” He said with a thoughtful expression before giving Keiren a polite bow, “It was truly a pleasure seeing you again” he smiled handsome his crosses glinting as they caught some of the sunlight shining down. “Our conversation was most intriguing.” He said and then turned beginning to make his way out of the park.

“Our conversation was most intriguing.”

Keiren growled, well it wasn't over yet if the singer had any say in it. He ran to catch up and stopped in front of Tatsuki and grabbed his shirt front.

"It's about to get a hell of a lot more intriguing you bastard, I'm not done with you yet!" He glared with a strange glow to his eyes. Every time when he wanted to get back at someone as a kid.

"I'll want another painting."

He released Tatsuki's shirt with a scoff as he walked on ahead of him feeling prideful that he got some kind of final word in.

When Keiren grabbed his shirt and swore at him, Tatsuki felt two things. Amused and gratified that this person was so affected by him. Tatsuki was amused by the fact that Keiren had grabbed his shirt despite their obvious height difference and had tried to intimidate him; He was gratified by the knowledge that Keiren showed so many expressions because of him. Twisted as that logic was it worked in Tatsuki’s mind and when Keiren demanded he paint him and huffed trying to leave it at that Tatsuki answered him…which was probably not what Keiren had wanted.

“I’d love to paint you again."

He smirked as he began to pass Keiren again offering him a calm and handsome smile yet again. “you have my number…do not hesitate to call.” and like that Tatsuki was gone.

While Keiren was being subjected to his nightmares and dreams of the village far away and nestled in the valleys of a misty mountain, Tatsuki was busy prowling the late night streets and questioning people about the ‘boy’, sometimes he would receive strange reactions or suspicious stares that would dissolve under his handsome smile. A real entity of strangeness they would think other asked him if he was a part of a gang which he would raise a brow to in question.

“I’m sorry miss I’m not familiar with these ‘Dollars’ as you call them”

“Oh they are only the scariest gang out there…no one messes with the dollars” she said and her friend nodded in response to it.

“Ya they are like really powerful, but you never know who the members are because they don’t wear colors like the Yellow scarfs or Blue squares.”

He narrowed his eyes since this was getting off subject but that was perhaps a good place to look regarding this matter perhaps these ‘gangs’ knew something about the boy in the picture. Bowing his lightly he decided to end this encounter here. “Thank-you very much ladies I appreciate all your help but I must be on my way.” They made sounds of displeasure at his departure but he didn’t want to extend their encounter any longer than he had to and they clearly had no idea who he was talking about. He popped open the pocket watch gazing at it quietly…the dark coloured hair and slightly gold coloured/or yellowish eyes. He wished he could see the picture more clearly but the worn down photo was not forgiving at all. Taking a deep breath and took a look at his phone for the time quarter to 3am, he should start heading home since the streets were starting to grow rather empty there was really no way for him to a take a look for or question other people about the child in this photo. They were al beginning to head home to their respective beds and too twisted up in their own little lives to care about one little one.

Tilting his head he gazed at the photo again and gave a quizzical expression to it maybe he was going about this all wrong and he had to do something else instead. True to Keiren’s words the picture was worn he he’d received it a number of years ago. So chances that the boy in the photo and the boy now were the same age were very slim, the child probably didn’t even look the same. Counting his losses for the night he turned and made his way back towards his own apartment. The long day finally taking its toll and beckoning him to sleep. He slowly pocketed his cellphone and smiled. Tomorrow was a new day after all.

“Goodnight Ikebukuro”

Tatsuki was tired. He sat silently in his own large apartment, surrounded by old antique furniture and the curtains shadowed most if not all of the light filtering into the room. He wore simple grey cotton sweats and ran a hand through his hair almost lazily. He had no new leads on the ‘boy’ and he had no desire to go anywhere…not even painting. Yet he didn’t want to lay back in bed at all.

” such an undesirable city…full of flashing lights but nothing interesting to do” he muttered and slowly stood up heading towards his bathroom to shower and stretched popping his back he wondered aloud then. “I wonder what Keiren’s up too?” he murmured with an almost devilish smirk. “ Maybe I’ll visit him”

The high street was something Tatsuki disliked as he glanced around, all fashion ready places, people strutting around in their expensive clothes when they could be putting it towards better causes.
He wondered quickly how people like Keiren survived in this kind of atmosphere and then stopped people looking at him like he was a celebrity or model and pulled out his phone…he’d forgotten one particularly important thing when he’d ventured out to ‘visit’ Keiren. He had no idea where Keiren could be...His wondering was soon easily cut short when he felt someone bump into him in the crowded street," oh...pardon m-“he blinked recognizing the mop of hair…well kind of. “Keiren? What happened to you?”

"I'm pretty good at doing hair" he said when Keiren turned around, Tatsuki was standing their with his little black umbrella. His long hair pulled into a high pony tail today, he wore a shirt sleeved black turtleneck and black fitting jeans as well as knee high black boots. His silver cross earings glinted merrily in the sunlight as well as the one aro und his neck , yes Tatsuki looked every bit the priest he was not.

"You're scowling again" he smirked all knowingly again," I gather by the scowl, your normal stylist is out of town and you went to some high priced salon and let some quack job do your hair?"

If Tatsuki was correct in thinking he'd hit another nerve he'd probably be dead on. Kiren looked like he'd been hit by a thunderstorm of different blonde dyes and could probably do without his "adoring" public laughing at him.

"Come on I just need to get some art supplies and I'll fix your hair for you"

The way it was said sounded like there was no room for argument.

Tatsuki blinked and chuckled, "butcher? hardly" he said walking beside the irrate,...blonde/orange/pumkin? haired boy. "I happen to style and do my own hair so I'm sure I can do a better job than which ever stylist touched your poor unfortunate hair" he mused, "I just need to stop and pick up a few things first" he said as he headed towards the artistry shop's his umbrella held above his head blocking out the sun and making him feel just a bit better.

"Didn't I tell you scowling would give you wrinkles?"