Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Inside a Picture ❯ "His Name Was Omi." ( Chapter 1 )

Title- Inside A Picture (Renamed) Chapter One: "His Name Was Omi"
Author- Locura
Warnings- OOC, AU Strange K+O/O+K (possible KxO)
Archive- Fanfiction.net and www.mediaminer.org other then that if you want it you can have it just tell me where it went!
Disclaimer- My paint is non-toxic so even when I accidentally eat some I have no delusions of owning Weiß Kreuz.
Author Notes- *smacks self with a Dictionary repeatedly* I promised myself I wouldn't start another story until I finished one of the others and what do I do? Write another one. >.< *sigh* at least its a short one this one probably only four parts max. Oh well…..Enjoy!

***

Ken walked threw the basement of the art gallery for the hundredth time searching tiredly for the painting his boss just -had- to put up for the new exhibit. The old man, Persia, still went by his art name even after all these years of not painting and had the memory of a goldfish at times it seemed. He had sent Ken down to the basement countless times for various paintings with no artists name or title of the artworks so he had to look threw everything.

By now Ken thought he should know where everything was but even with all the trips down here he could not remember ever seeing the painting Persia had asked for.

A painting of a young boy with blond hair in a hammock.

`Life,' The brown haired boy concluded as he bent down the bottom of the last rack of covered paintings, `Was just not fair to poor students.'

The stack of canvass diminished quickly as he saw that none of the pictures at present were of a boy in a hammock. Running his fingers threw his chocolate bangs Ken sighed and stood up, the picture Persia wanted had most likely been sold long ago and the old-timer didn't remember selling it.

He ambled to his feet, knocking his knees a bit to dislodge at least a little of the dust from his pants; before slowly walking down the racks of art, his hand trailing over the spines and tops of the covered pieces. He was almost down to the end, which was thankfully close to the stairs and glorious fresh air, when something snagged his hand and he jumped in surprise. There behind a statue of something that looked remarkably like a gargoyle impression of a fellow art student of his was another canvas.

The canvas was fairly large but hidden behind the statue and stuck in a crevice between two racks. How it had got there was anyone's guess but Ken's curiosity won him over and he lugged it from its hiding place. The covering came off fairly easily and he shook his head in amazement as he saw it was in fact the one old man Persia wanted.

Blue eyes peeked out from between the neatly painted roped of the hammock and looked forlornly back at any who chose to peer at him. The background was painted blurrily of trees and bits of light and sky and anything up close had every detail. The way it was painted was amazing, the colors just right and the expression on the painted face was as expressive as any real person.

Jerking himself form his amazed stupor Ken recovered the painting and carried it up the stairs. Maybe he -would- have time to go to the park and play soccer with the kids tonight if he hurried.

Looking around from the top of the stairs the brown eyed boy was not surprised to find that his friend, Yohji, had abandoned his job in favor of flirting with a postal worker who was probably delivering a new piece of art.

"Yohji sign for the package and get back to work, I want to leave early today if its possible." Ken told him dragging the painting as he walked passed the playboy while looking for Persia or his assistant Manx.

He didn't go far before he spotted the red dress and heals that Manx always wore and ambled over to her. "I found the picture Persia wanted."

"Good job Siberian." Ken once again wondered why they gave him a new art name when he came here but pushed the thought away, there were too many strange things about this old art gallery for him to try and figure out and including the owner and the owner's assistant would only open up a new can. "Persia`s in his office, he will tell you what to do from there."

"Alright. See you later!" Ken turned to the right and went down the hall before stopping in front of a large oak door and knocked. "Persia, its Siberian."

"Come in, Siberian." The door opened without protest and Ken once again saw the old man that must have been very intimidating in his younger years. His hair, which had been brown, was a light gray and white mix that thinned slightly at the top; wrinkles were permanently etched by his eyes, mouth and forehead and his hands shook ever so slightly when he raised them. He had not aged too much as to lose the commanding air he had from years of working with the government but even he had not been able to age with his mind still young. He often forgot names and dates as easily as complex math problems, which explained why he had an assistant and Yohji and Ken help him around his gallery. "You found the picture."

It was a statement, not a question so Ken nodded and placed it on the desk where wrinkled hands slowly took off the cover and soft blue eyes looked over the canvas.

It was a long moment before Persia spoke again; his hands still tracing the painting, and Ken fidgeted, not sure if he should leave or not. "He used to be happy."

"Uh..."

"He used to be smiling. I shouldn`t have let them put him away when I was to busy to work the gallery." The hands stopped there tracing and he smiled up at Ken. "Put him in the new exhibit and make sure there`s nothing in front of him. It makes it difficult for him if there is"

"Uh-Yes, Sir." Ken picked up the picture. "Um...what's the paintings name, if I could ask? And the artist? Its not listed."

"His name?" The old man looked lost and lifted a hand to his cheek as he`s eyes searched the far wall. "His name was Omi."

***

Persia sighed as he looked at the painting he had made Ken look so hard for. The boy inside was still looking sadly outwards from the hammock ropes and the old man winced. "I`m sorry Omi, I didn`t realize what had happened until it happened. And even if I knew at the time it wouldn`t have changed anything."

The boys face didn't change quickly but ever so slightly it seemed to lighten.

"But you know that don`t you?" He smiled softly at the picture. "And you won`t be showing yourself to me, will you my boy? Even after all that."

Of that there was no answer.

The old man chuckled softly before he turned slowly and walked to the doorway, dimming the lights as he went. "No," he whispered. "You found someone else to come out for, haven`t you?"

A lighthearted laugh that seemed more of a memory then an actual sound was his only response, as the old man left his art gallery for the night.

***

It had been a few days sense Ken had put that picture up on the wall. And Persia had not said anything more about the boy inside the painting, nor had anyone else commented about how the picture seemed to move slightly every day.

The first time Ken looked at it the boy inside looked very lonely and dejected, but as the days went by the brown haired boy could have sworn that the blue eyed boy slowly looked happier, though there was still a slight hint of sadness lurking in his eyes if Ken looked hard enough at the painting.

But all of that had to be in Ken's head of course, because as he knew no matter how good a painter was there had been no way to paint a moving picture thirty years ago. There still wasn't in fact, but a computerized picture could and this one was clearly not that.

Ken shook his head and put down his heavy book bag, there wasn't ever much for him and Yohji to do on Friday nights but he always came just to make sure. He couldn't help but like the somewhat senile old man and, while Manx wasn't always the most chatty of company, it was a better company then Yohji and his Friday night clubs. Plus if he ended up anywhere else he would have been dragged around way to long, or not long enough, and miss an important soccer game on tv.

"Persia? Manx? Anyone here?" Ken's voice bounced off the walls eerily and Ken felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as he walked deeper into the gallery.

The lights were on but no one was home it seemed.

He went to Persia's office and found it empty, all the wings were as empty as tombs, and nothing but the dust bunnies stood guard over the basement. A little confused that Persia and Manx would close up so early and leave the doors open Ken made his way back the front.

`Chalk up to another one of their quirks.' Ken pushed the door.

It didn't move.

He tried again, but once more the door refused to budge.

Ken's eyes widened as he tried pulling the door and it still didn't move.

He was now locked in the art gallery and no one would probably be here until morning, and he had no way out because he didn't know how to lock pick and there were no extra keys made.

`I'm going to miss that soccer game tonight, Brazil verse Mexico.' He sighed and turned around to lean back on the door. `Maybe someone will figure out I'm here and let me out.'

But even that thought didn't help his spirits, because he knew no one would. Living alone in an apartment made that imposable, unless Yohji got really lonely no one would visit or call.

The brown eyed boy sighed and stood up making his way to the new gallery, as long as he were here he might as well do his homework and look at some completed works of art.

He had been looking at the floor as he walked, the light blue-green carpet was fascinating to someone who found the walls a little less interesting sense they had become so familiar. Only one picture still captivated him, and that was the Hammock boy one.

Ken wouldn't have noticed he wasn't alone probably for a good while except the other occupant was so startled by his reappearance in the gallery he jumped, knocking his head loudly against the cream colored wall before exclaiming a surprised. "Hello!"

Ken jerked his head up from the carpet and stared.

The boy from the painting was standing by the wall, blue eyes wide with disbelief and Ken's sketchbook hanging limply from his hands.

***