honey color

At the corner of his mouth, he looked up and found that in the apartment on the fourth floor opposite, the light radiated faintly from the windows of the stair rest platform, like a few fuzzy shadows in the air after the rain.

You can see the handrails of the stairs intricately intertwined there, the umbrella is hanging on the railing, and there is a bright water stain on the tip of the umbrella, which is a blurred spot illuminated by the light.

The mother holding the child pushed the door out, and the world finally got out of silence.She was wearing a blue dress, and after closing the door, she walked past the umbrella.There was a gentle smile on his face, as if he could even hear his footsteps when he went downstairs.

It wasn't until I reached out and climbed the wet railing to look down that I found a man standing by the light pole waiting for someone.

Young couples.

Walk side by side in this corridor after the rain.

The wind lifted my long hair, I closed my eyes and pursed my lips and smiled.

When I turned around, I realized that Mr. Ueda was staring at the starry sky above his head in a daze.

"Teacher Ueda, lend me the studio!"

"Huh?" She looked at me in surprise, until she was moved by my firm expression, she didn't ask anything.

This painting took about two hours to complete.Maybe it was a whim, but I believe that the reason why I was so impulsive to complete it was definitely that I infected the "happiness" of the couple.

And I will never deny that I have been lacking such things since a long time ago.

That may be why, every time I am moved by Yukimura's paintings.

Because he has what I don't have, peace and warmth.

Although I looked at the painting in front of me, I still shook my head somewhat.

I'm afraid it's difficult to learn peace, but at least you must show that kind of happiness, the kind of happiness that slowly extends in life.

Until the last stroke of bright yellow was painted, I heard a long "嗞啦——" sound when Ueda-sensei got up, and the stool rubbed against the tiled floor.

When I turned around in a daze for a second, I realized that there was a sad expression mixed with the woman's smile.

——Complicated.

She walked forward and stroked the frame of the drawing board with her hand, as if she was facing her own child.

The smell of fresh paint in the air has not yet faded, and Mr. Ueda said soon:

"Give me this picture, Honey."

"Huh?" Seeing her expression, I suddenly thought of her daughter who died young.Perhaps that sense of happiness was also transmitted to her, to this former mother.

"Youth drawing competition, honey, you can use this painting to participate." Ueda-sensei said suddenly, "I wanted to talk about it a long time ago, but I don't want you to draw for the competition."

Her eyes that were lingering on the picture hadn't moved away yet, but I lowered my eyes and looked at the drawing board a short distance away again.

Different levels of navy blue and different shades of bright yellow, the side of the half moon in the sky is the bright crumbs thrown by her, the galaxy formed by them slides across the sky of navy blue, and becomes the foil of those bright yellows.

There were two people on the road, and the woman held the child in her arms.

Even if the face is invisible, even if it is only a few black shadows, a gentle shadow is outlined by those white or yellow lights.

So two months later, at the youth painting exhibition in Tokyo, my work called "Night" was also hung in a corner of the painting hall.

——Although I was not able to stand in front of it at that time, nor could I see those viewers who were stained with happy expressions by it.

……

It wasn't long before I found out that Yukimura also participated in that competition, and the work that was submitted to the competition was a painting called "Water Lily".

"It reminds me of Monet." It was near the middle of August, and he suddenly appeared in front of my house in Osaka.It seems that I asked Chitose for my home address, and during that time, Chitose happened to be going to Okinawa for vacation with relatives.

"I like Monet very much." The corner of his mouth curled up. The boy was wearing a white shirt, just like the impression he gave me.

"Yukimura-kun's paintings are indeed very impressionistic." He gave up his crutches to save time. After all, he appeared in front of my house at noon, and he invited me to watch the "Yodogawa Fireworks Festival".When I was surprised that he knew better than me who lived in Osaka for two years, he just laughed and said that it happened to be the same day when he came to Osaka last year, so he went to see it with Chitose Shiraishi and the others.

"I like Impressionism." He looked forward, with a warm smile on his face. On this cloudy day, it was like a transparent light. "It makes people warm and powerful."

"... Powerful?" After all, this word is not suitable for those impression paintings that are like floating shadows in the light.

"I forgot to tell you, Ami, my favorite painter is not Monet," the voice turned towards me, and I knew he must have lowered his body, so I turned my head to meet his iris-blue eyes, the backlit pupils had broken shadows Float, "It's a Renoir 1."

After pondering for a moment, I remembered that this master was mentioned in the painting book that Ueda-sensei lent me.It also has soft lines and intricate pictures of time, but his figure paintings seem to be more outstanding:

"The Ball at Moulin Rouge, The Bathing Girl..." He was counting his masterpieces on the wheelchair, but Yukimura patted him on the shoulder from one side.

"What Ami said is correct, but at that time, Renoir was simply my spiritual support." He stared into the distance vainly, always giving me a premonition of some dusty pain.

"Eh?"

"He has been suffering from illness since he was 41 years old. Because of arthritis, he has to sit in a wheelchair all the time. Because of his stiff fingers, he has to tie a brush to his hand to draw."

"..." I always felt like I hit something in my chest, and it was the kind of resonance that hit my face that shattered me.After all, the wheelchair beneath him was moving smoothly on the raised ramp.

Yukimura probably sensed my surprise, and finally smiled:

"It's like honey," paused, "and also like me before."

I was stunned, as if I smelled the beginning of some not-so-good story, and I could even feel from his sharp tone that it was a past event that almost knocked him down.

"...the old you?"

"Gerry-Barre Syndrome, maybe Ami has never heard of it." He walked on the road with a calm tone as if he was telling someone else's story. "It's a disease that affects the nerve endings, so at that time I could only spend my days in a wheelchair."

"..." I don't know what I should say at this time, but I know that my heart is beating violently, even though the young man behind is still talking about those past events in a leisurely manner.

"In the third year of junior high school, it almost made me give up the tennis final."

I didn't look back. I remembered that year when I was sitting in the distant auditorium, watching him and Seigaku's rookie named Echizen Ryoma gallop across the field. I couldn't imagine that before that, he could only hug Such a hopeless mood to live on this planet.

"I can only look at Renoir's paintings to motivate myself, and I even tie my brushes to my hands, trying to paint some paintings that I can't even look at."

My heart was beating wildly at an unstoppable speed. From the first time I met him, from the time his fingers stroked my forehead and the temperature was remembered by my heart, I believed that he could understand my pain.

It turned out that from the very beginning, his wild guess was correct.Essentially, it's each other's pain that makes us look so much alike.

"So I can understand Ami, just like I said before." He suddenly raised the corner of his mouth, "From the beginning, I have always been able to."

"..." His lips were bitten hard, and his heart turned sour for a moment.

Even though everyone in the painting department is carrying out their own creations with love for the world and painting, no one can understand that I have to hold back the bitterness to describe the beautiful pain .

It was a tree rooted in disillusionment, and from the beginning it had to endure pain and strive to bloom beautifully.

He is like this, and so am I.

Tears flowed down unstoppably like this, even biting his lips stubbornly didn't help.Pain spread all over his body until his shoulders trembled slightly.The wheelchair was stopped, the boy squatted in front of me, and handed me a handkerchief:

"If you want to cry, just cry." That was his comfort, as gentle as a trickle.

Although he tried his best to resist the inciting words, but for some reason, the sobbing became more and more serious, and finally he burst into tears like this.

Those pains have tortured me to pieces, but his appearance finally made me take off that sad armor.

So from the beginning, we were like a rope twisted together, like two cheetahs licking each other's wounds.

40Chapter40. Kawakami Scenery

If time is an optical axis suspended in the endless universe, then you and I are just a speck of dust in this optical axis.

Just like the criss-crossing steel bars of the Yodogawa Bridge, fireworks rise into the sky, and the illuminated faces of the world, after being thrown into time and polished, will appear again in this vast feast of time with a posture as small as dust.

For us, the fireworks above our heads are just a momentary event.

In terms of time, the "lifetime" we talk about is just a moment.

So when I sat in a wheelchair and squinted at the fireworks in the night sky, I felt a little chill in my heart.

Until I returned to Japan when I was six years old, and until that year when I took it as my "hometown" in violation of the law, I followed them and developed an emotion called "sorrow".I have spent more than ten years with this kind of emotion, and I have been entangled with various people and things. I enjoy flowers, moon, and fireworks every year. From the pride of looking at the world to looking for life in front of me beautiful.The planet hasn't changed much, but I have changed a lot.

For example, at this moment, the cold fireworks hanging above the Yodogawa River must be different from the blue fireworks that were lost in the festival that summer and soared above the stone steps.

It was about mother's daydreams and "