[FIC] Class Act (part 11)

[dd]

The Jindai High students were on cloud nine. Not only had they ditched their sadistic tour guide---Fraulein Freakazoid, as some had taken to calling her now that she was no longer around---but they also about to visit one of the highlights of the overall tour. And, after THAT they’d get to eat!

Miss Krieger had taken a moment to discuss things with another tour group leader, but the students wouldn’t join him until after spending time in the rooms dedicated to ongoing works by international artists. For a while, the group would be with people that were what---and who---they appeared to be.

The area was also set up as a discovery lab of sorts, allowing visitors to try their hands at various art forms. They would be videotaped---the museum was in the process of putting together advertisements for their unique opportunities.

A slender near-emaciated man in a turtle-neck walked over to Miss Okibasu, hand moving like he was conducting an imaginary orchestra. “Ah madame, you must be the teacher of this marvelous group of youngsters. To have lead a group of hungry seeking minds to paradise, surely you shall be rewarded.” The man bent to kiss Miss Okibasu’s hand. “And, you have brought so many beauties with you. Perhaps I should pack up and move the studio to the Tokyo National Museum.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance. I am Miss Okibasu. This young lady is Kaname Chidori, student representative. We look forward to all that you can teach us.” She bowed to the bright-eyed man.

“Oh, be still my beating heart. Miss Chidori, you must be an angel sent from above.” The man brought Kaname’s hand up for a long lingering kiss. “I must paint you. Surely I must.” He looked expectantly at Kaname.

“Uh…OK…I would be flattered.” Kaname felt butterflies in her stomach. For some reason, she had the urge to look at Sousuke and gloat.

“Do you promise?” The artist looked like a leopard ready to pounce.

“Y-Yes. Sure. Glad too.” Kaname’s eyes were filled with stars momentarily. Maybe the painting would be hung on the wall here. Kaname Chidori, masterpiece.

“Excellent! But I have been remiss. I should introduce myself. I am Isamu Valentin.” The man bowed to the class. At his words, a short man in a stained apron ran out with a tall drink and a short written biography. He handed the drink to Mr. Valentin and begab reading aloud.

“Born in Sofia, Bulgaria, Mr. Valentin’s mother was a native of this fine country. Even at an early age, the brilliant artist was fascinated withy the intrinsic beauty of the human form. Grace. Beauty. Spontaneity. Not only do those words describe his own magnificence, but they also describe what he seeks and wishes to portray. Inspired by the visual grandeur of Greek civilization, and by the exquisite art of the Renaissance, his works have gone on to receive universal praise world wide. His bronzes stand in the largest and most prestigious art forums in Europe. His paintings hang in museums across the globe. Those of us who work with him are eternally grateful. You are about to receive a rare privilege, one unlikely to be surpassed for the remainder of your fortunate lives.” Breathless, the short man took out a hankerchief, dabbed it at Mr. Valentin’s forehead, them disappeared back into the studio.

“I wrote that.” The artist mentioned. “Like my works, I wanted it to be understated, but with an unmistakable truth.” He turned and walked way. Turning again he said “Well, come on, now. You’re all about to be inspired.


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In one small area, a number of sculptors were working with marble. Referencing their sketches, they carefully chiseled away small bits at a time. It was amazing to see how imagination could become three dimensional reality. It was humbling to require the time and patience it required.

“I call this work Love’s Sweet Fruit” a small attractive woman said, referring to her unfinished art. Two nudes were in the process of embracing.

“I call it Chidori gets the Bone!” One of the rugby players took a bow amongst his circle of stalwarts.

Kaname blushed. She also scowled. Those damn pledges, again. If only Sousuke hadn’t made that promise. Of course, who agreed with Miss Okibasu’s idea? The room was too open. The Jindai Squad couldn’t operate without being caught.

“I do not understand. They do not look like dogs.” Sousuke walked up. Kaname blushed even more.

Maya walked over and whispered in Sousuke’s ear. His eyes grew very large. “Uh…”

“Miss Okibasu walked over and put her hand on Sousuke’s shoulder. “You know Sousuke, things sometimes build up inside a man. If he doesn’t find a way to get release, who knows what might happen.” Kaname went white as a sheet, then steadied herself and started to growl.

“You’ve been so well-behaved today, I have a reward for you.” Kaname’s hands reached towards a nearby two-pound sledge after her teacher said that.

“I will allow you to deal with your obnoxious classmate.” Kaname stopped, shook her head, then smiled in anticipation.

“Affirmative. Chidori, did the comment cause you discomfort?”

“Yes, Sousuke.” Kaname put on her most piteous face. “I am so ashamed. I can’t show my face.”

“Understood.” Sousuke walked over to the rugby player. “You shall accompany me. It would be in your best interest.”

“Oh yeh? Well, my buds will back me up.” The group of boys all walked over to Kaname. They didn’t know that Sousuke’s pledge was temporarily deactivated

“Now would be an ideal time to apologize to Miss Chidori.” Sousuke looked directly in the troublemaker’s eyes. That same look, from a cobra, would have frozen its prey dead in its tracks.

“Sure sure. I’m really and truly sorry that Kaname doesn’t want to get boned, big time.” He and his friends laughed. It was like shooting fish in a barrel. The crowd roared its approval. Kaname gave Sousuke a Thanks for making things worse, jerk! look.

“Mr. Sagara, no damage to the museum or any of its staff or visitors.” Miss Okibasu wanted to teach Sousuke to narrow the scope of his havoc and mayhem.

“It is not a problem.” Sousuke pointed to a large area hidden behind a hanging curtain. “We should go discuss Miss Chidori’s habits further. There are some things only you can hear.” The boys were jazzed. Giving each other a slap of the hand, they followed the young sergeant.

Sousuke had been incorrect. The class could all hear every word he said.

“So, dish out the dirt Sagara. What can you tell us about that blue-haired bitch. She like it on top?” “Yeh man, is she a screamer?” “You guys do the whips and chains thing?” “You get anything on videotape?”

“Your behavior is unacceptable.” Sousuke’s simple statement was followed by a WHAM!!! and “Oooopppfff!” The sound of falling rocks could be heard. “I have told you all before….” gave way to SLAM!!! and “Ohhhhohhhohhhhohhhhh.” The sound of something round rolling on its rim was clearly audible. “….Miss Chidori deserves everyone’s respect!” CRASH tinkle tinkle. THUD THUD THUD chink clang . WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP. “Please stop!” “Oh GOD!!!” “No…NO…NOOOOOOOOO.” “Mommeeeee!!!” “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh….” There was a series of impacts and the sound of wood bouncing off the floor.

One of the room attendants ran over frantically. When he pulled the curtain back, exposing the concealed refuse area, a number of large garbage cans filled with scrap material were revealed. A pair of quivering legs stuck out of each one. “Enrique. Over here, Hurry!!!”

A darkly handsome man with a thin mustache ran quickly to the scene. He did not carry a First Aid kit as most of the group expected. He had a rather fancy camera rig. “Especial.” The flash went off repeatedly, accompanied by the whirr-click of the shutter mechanism. “Magnifico.” The art photographer danced from angle to angle. “Perfecto!!!” When he was finished, he walked over to Sousuke and shook his hand. In thick Spanish accent, he said “It will be a masterpiece. I shall call it Human Waste. Please give me your name. I wish to share credit with you at my next exhibition.”

Kaname introduced herself and gave the photographer her name and address. She asked if she could have a copy of the best shots.


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Kaname was smiling way too much, or so Ryo said to Kyouko. “Knight in shining armor” Ren said quietly. “Oh Sousuke, please carry me away…” Mizuke added, grinning. “Your castle or mine?” Maya quipped.

“It’s not THAT!” Kaname gouched. “I can’t stop seeing those feet sticking out. Human Waste. Perfect!” But it was nice to have Sousuke make a problem BETTER for once.

Kyouko gave the other girls the ‘OK’ hand sign, meaning Yeh, right! They all smiled.

The next area the students got to look at was a clay sculpting workshop. A number of artists were at their stations, crafting art large and small, some broadly evocative, and others highly detailed. One woman chosen as the spokesperson taught them about different clays, means of working them, tools, glazes, kilns, and what not.

One large work piece looked like a waterfall coursing around a twin mountain peak. Naturally, some of the boys viewed it in a different manner. “Hey, that looks like Chidori’s hair hanging down around….” The boy stopped. His face went ashen white. Sousuke’s earlier lesson had sunken in. “Never mind.”

Kaname’s smile deepened. Sousuke under control. The boys put in their place. Wonderful things to see and learn. This is so wonderful! Maybe there’s reason to hope. I wish this would last forever….

There is a saying: Let sleeping dogs lie. The Fates probably shouldn’t be challenged.

One artist, a rather esoteric fellow, was swinging and stabbing with a triangular-shaped trowel, adding texture to a rather complex and intricate work. The piece must have taken months to get to this stage. A hunter stood with gun poised, overlooking a family of deer. The sculpture had been commissioned by a large and prestigious hunting club.

Kaname stood between Sousuke and the artist. Out of the corner of his eyes, Sousuke saw a crazed-looking man, trowel raised over an unsuspecting Kaname. One downward stab, and her jugular vein or carotid artery could be severed. There was no time to waste.

A human projectile, Sousuke stepped off of an unoccupied stool and vaulted over Kaname. Trowel and hand in his grasp, he landed and moved to subdue the attacker. Too late, he realized the truth of the situation---and the man was already airborne.

Everyone in the room stood in shock, hearing the sodden Thwock! of the artist impacting the sculpture. No one knew what to say. Not a soul knew what to do. One of the attendants grabbed a telephone and made a barely comprehendible call.

“You…you…you…my…my…NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” The artist’s eyes bulged and he grasped his chest when he climbed down to the floor. He pulled out his hair. He fell to the floor. The sound of weeping could be heard.

Sousuke stood with his hands outstretched, in a Jesus Christ pose. The full weight of his actions hit him and he bowed his head. He had broken his pledge. A man’s work lay in shambles. The crowd surrounding him looked like a jury. Miss Okibasu’s face looked like that of a judge, startled by the depths of human depravity. Kaname looked like a jailer, ready to throw away the key. Each sob from the inconsolable craftsman drove a spear deeper and deeper into his side.

A flushed man in a finely tailored tuxedo ran into the room. It was one of the museum curators. “Charles. I heard there was a terrible problem. What….” The burly looking gentleman stopped, eyes glued to the sculpture. “Oh my God, Charles.” He walked over and ran his hands gently over the damaged clay masterpiece.

The sobbing from the ground grew louder.

“I must apologize…” Sousuke began.

“I haven’t been down here for some time, Charles. I must apologize. But this work, It surpasses anything I could imagine. It’s wonderful. Whatever they paid you, the museum will double it. Triple it if we must. Breathtaking.”

The artist jumped to his feet and quickly wiped away the tears.

“Are you serious?” For the first time, he actually saw what the sculpture now was, not what it used to be. The hunter was down, gun held outward. The stage stood over him, triumphant. The doe was down. The fawn stood alone. The triumph. The tragedy. The utter emotional pull. “But, since we’ve had such a splendid working relationship, how can I possibly refuse?”

“Marvelous. Simply wonderful. When it is ready, it can be the focal point of the entryway, the first thing everyone sees. I have a strong suspicion that your commissions are going to take a giant leap, Charles.” The men shook hands. “Must run! There are opening ceremonies to prepare for. Wonderful. So wonderful.”

The dazed man turned to look at Sousuke. He dropped to one knee. “Sir. You must been an angel sent to me. At first I thought you were a devil, a demon. My apologies. Please. You worked on this as well. Your name must accompany mine. At its unveiling, you must return to stand by my side!”

Sousuke agreed. The students and Miss Okibasu were still too stunned to move or speak. The same could not be said for Kaname. She picked up a piece of clay that had fallen from the altered statue. It was heavy in her hand. Sousuke! Sousuke unchained again! Sousuke causing destruction! SOUSUKE GETTING HONORED FOR IT!!! Her beautiful dream lay ravaged and dead….

The sound of a projectile coursing towards his head caused Sousuke to duck and deftly avoid the missile of clay. The woman working at the potter’s wheel did not have similar survival instincts. A new helmet of clay encasing her head, she fell, knocking the wheel off of its spindle and sending it bouncing and rolling out of control. The pot she had been tossing fell heavily on the workbench.

If it hadn’t been for the video, no one would have been able to follow all of the action. The unfinished pot hit a series of large notebooks, felling them like dominoes. They ran along the bench top, knocking over pots of colorful glaze and scattering neatly placed tools and utensils. Startled, a man ran his arm through a beautiful sculpted fish and fly. Slipping on some glaze, a woman lost control, throwing a pot of paint upward. Another woman, racing to catch the paint container, slipped on some paintbrushes, plowing into a man stoking a kiln. His screams could be heard rooms away.

The potters wheel could have been an avatar of Shiva, The Destroyer. It ran over feet…bounced off of derrieres…crashed through storage bins…and flattened clay urns and vases. Artists were jumping, falling, screaming, and shouting. Long hours of work were rendered meaningless. People, places, and things took on new colors and textures, thanks to flying dyes, paints, stains, and materials. Pure pandemonium.

When the dust settled, Sousuke looked at Kaname and spoke with an incredulous voice. “Kaname, didn’t you hear Miss Okibasu before? ’No damage to the museum or any of its staff or visitors.’”

With a frightful shout, Kaname charged Sousuke. Miss Okibasu---stunned, paint pot sitting on her head, and her blouse a masterwork of colors---did nothing to stop her.


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Sousuke was doing calisthenics. It was a good way to loosen up, and to relax the mind. Kaname sat with her back against the wall, looking at everything except Sousuke, muttering “Big idiot,” “Jerk,” “Moron,” and the like. They were high school students. She was the class representative. And they had been sent together in a room for a time out. A TIME OUT!!! Kaname had never been so embarrassed in her entire life.

Miss Okibasu had fought hard against the suggestion, but Mr. Valentin insisted. Because of Sousuke’s contribution to the arts---and because Charles was willing to reimburse the museum for any damages---the two students would not be tossed off the premises.

“I expect it will calm them down one way or another,” the famous artist had said. “If they sit peacefully, it may carry over into their subsequent actions. If they are overwhelmed by hormones, go at it like minks, and wear themselves out, they’ll still be more docile. And if they kill one another, we won’t have to worry about them any more. Still, I’m tempted to throw some art supplies in with them. They could use anything sharp or hard as a weapon I suppose, but it might be worth it to see what that rather remarkable boy comes up with.”

As part of the punishment, the class formed two lines leading to the small supply room they were to be shut up in. Walking between her class mates, and the irate artists who linked arms with them, Kaname felt her pride stripped away step by step. Sousuke in contrast, slapped on the back by boys, girls, and artists alike, paid no mind to anything.

“We are going to time out, like a pair of toddlers!!!” Kaname had harrumphed. “Stuck alone in a room with you, how could things get any worse?”

“I view it as a golden opportunity. For a few moments any way, I can relax. There will be no one around to keep an eye on. No one to assess, track, and continually re-evaluate. I will know where you are and be assured that you are safe. I fail to see how things could be any better.”

“Baku…baku…BAKU!!!” Kaname had replied.

After they were sitting alone for a while, Kaname turned to look at her ‘cellmate.’ “Sousuke, why do you do the things you do?” Her voice was quiet, tired sounding.

“Chidori?”

“You know. Blow things up. Tackle people. Crawl through heating ducts. Start fights with crazed police women. Leap on defenseless artists. Things.”

“I have a duty, Kaname. I have chosen to defend you. I have made it my mission. Whatever needs to be done, I will do, even at the cost of my own life. I have been told by many people that I am rash, and that my judgment is questionable. But, I have managed to survive when I follow my instincts. The times I have been closets to death came when I hesitated, thought to much. I lost good comrades when I was not by their side to protect them.” Sousuke sat down next to Kaname.

“Why me, Sousuke?” She wanted to add Why have you chosen to ruin MY life?

“Because you are a very special person. I can say no more than that. The world would lose something special if you were gone. It is my duty…but……..uh.” Sousuke stopped, looking at a loss for words.

“What, Sousuke?” Kaname’s eyes, at the brink of tears, brightened up some.

“I…” Sousuke started again, only to stop. The silence grew as Kaname waited expectantly. Just before she was about to turn away in sadness and disappointment, he finished his thought. “It is my duty, Kaname…but even if it were not, I would not want to see something happen to you.”

“Oh…” Kaname found herself blushing. “Sousuke…are you and Miss Okibasu…uh…a couple?”

“No, Kaname.”

“I see.” Kaname said, looking away from Sousuke. “Did you and Wakana…with her clothes like that…were the two of you…intimate?” She couldn’t believe she was asking questions like this. It was none of her business.

“We were not.”

“Ah…I‘m glad…she was creep…“ Kaname struggled with a thought. There was something she was very curious about. “Sousuke, have you ever had a girlfriend?” Kaname’s heart was pounding, but she was not certain why. She found herself sitting closer to Sousuke.

Sousuke was quiet. It almost seemed as if his breathing had stopped. He did not answer.

“Sousuke?” Kaname felt like she was prying. But, once she started down this path….

“I do not know, Kaname. My knowledge of such things is deficient. When I was a child, there was a girl like me, alone and living on the streets. She kissed me once and said we would be married one day. The men sold her to a distant brothel. I never saw her again.” Sousuke’s voice was hollow, but free of sadness or grief.

“A number of years later, a girl a few years older than myself said that she had chosen me, because I had pretty eyes. We would belong to each other when she was old enough. We were collecting spent cartridges and shells one day. She stepped on a mine.” Lost in thought, Sousuke ran his hand through his hair the way that girl once did. “There has been no one who has shown an interest in me since then.”

Kaname sat stricken. Her body wouldn’t move. It was as if she had torn a bandage off of a wound, breaking open the cut. She wanted to apologize, but the words would not come out. She thought SHE had a hard life. Finally, she was able to free herself from her paralysis. She found her self lifting a hand, intending to comfort Sousuke.

Just before Kaname reached Sousuke, the door burst open.

“OK you two jailbirds, the warden has signed your parole. Not only that, but you are amongst the most fortunate, the truly blessed. From the outhouse to the penthouse, if I say so myself!” Mr. Valentin carried a bag of painting supplies and a long white robe. “While the rest of the class is visiting the textile workers and metal crafters, the two of you will come with me. Sousuke, you are surely one of Heaven’s chosen. You will get to observe me in action. Kaname, you will receive an honor amongst honors. You do intend to keep your promise, don’t you?”

“Promise?” Kaname’s thoughts were too jumbled to remember any promise she made.

“Yes. To paint you, of course….” Grabbing her hand, the artist pulled her behind him as he strode happily along.


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As she followed behind the happily whistling artist, Kaname saw other painters at work. Their subject matters varied, as did their techniques, paints, and canvases. When they passed by large display racks, and Mr. Valentin told her to feast her eyes on his most recent masterpieces, she caught wind of an alarming trend.

There was a reclining woman petting a small calico cat. The woman was nude.

There was a woman looking out a window, overlooking a busy city square. She was naked. So was the cat.

There was a man down on one knee before a woman. She wore no clothes. He was finely robed.

There was a woman on a canopy bed, reaching for a bowl of fruit. In her ‘Birthday Suit.’

There was a woman walking in a sparkling brook…a young girl splashing her friends at the bath…a sultry woman dancing before eager men…a shy woman reading a lover’s letter…a young woman with her hands under her breasts, comparing her figure to that of a starlet on a magazine…all of them wore nothing or very close to nothing.

“Here you are, Kaname. You’ll be wanting this.” Mr. Valentin handed Kaname the robe he had been carrying. “You may want to use this as well.” He handed her a large plastic bin.

“I will?” Kaname had a growing suspicion.

“Yes. Even if you are not the modest type, there are chill drafts blowing through theses studios on occasion. That will keep you warm enough between moments of posing.” As if on cue, a brief current of cool air passed down between the display racks. “The bin will keep your clothing neat, allowing you to fold it neatly if you like.” The atist tossed off that statement nonchalantly, as if there was no possibility that any woman would not want to be painted in the buff.

“My clothes?” Kaname’s eyes were very wide. Looking over at Sousuke, she opened her mouth but was totally mute.

“Yes, they are rather nice. You will want to keep them tidy while you model. If you like, I can ask one of the ladies to run them back to the laundry area. That way they will be nice and fresh.” The artist had reached his area and was arranging his supplies.

“But….” There could be no doubt. She had promised to let him paint her. Did that mean she had promised to let him paint her in any manner he chose? With Sousuke watching???

“So, Sousuke, I’m curious on your preferences. From what I hear, you show the makings of a fine artist. Artists often have a rather special appreciation of the female form. In what manner do you find womanly beauty most ideal and most fully expressed? Fully clothed, the magic in their eyes, lips, and posture?”

“Uh….”

“Only partially clad, the promise of the hidden areas even more enticing than the wealth so readily displayed for all to see?”

“Um…Er….”

“Or, in the way that God Himself intended, their miraculous bounty at its fullest and most obvious?”

“Ah…Uh…Um…Er….”

“I see. I should have expected no less. You are quite the sophisticate for one your age. Pretending indifference or indecision, so as not to remove your own air of mystery. Quite the gentleman too, I presume. Not wishing Miss Chidori to feel that her druthers do not match your own, you keep your preferences close to your own breast. Wisely played, young man. Wisely played.” Mr. Valentin bowed low before Sousuke.

At first Kaname had been shocked. Then she had been afraid. Now, her anger threatened to melt a hole in the floor. They were both discussing her like she was chattel. Worse, they were going on as if she wasn’t even there. Valentin could be excused---he was an artist, and artists lived in a different world. But Sousuke! To think she had not too long ago been moved to tears on his behalf. That…that…that…SNAKE IN THE GRASS!!!

“I think we have a misunderstanding here,” Kaname said forcefully, hands on hips.

“Kaname dear, what kind of misunderstanding can that be?” Mr. Valentin looked puzzled. How could there possibly be a misunderstanding?

“Yes. I agreed to pose for your painting, but I never said I would do it au natural.”

“Ah…I see….” Mr. Valentin looked at Sousuke, then back to Kaname again. “You were saving that as a special matter for you and Mr. Sagara. I understand. I’m certain he wouldn’t mind waiting elsewhere while we work.. Better yet, one of my compatriots was looking for a male nude.”

“No. That’s not it!” Kaname was getting rather irritated.

“Excellent. It seems she too is a sophisticate, Sousuke. Either that, or the two of you have already passed that stage.” The smile he gave Sousuke was that one ladies’ man might give another.

“Uh…” Sousuke was quickly getting lost. Sweat was beading on his brow.

“Yes. It is better to show a silent appreciation. Many a man has ruined the perfect moment by saying too much.” The artist patted Sousuke on the back.

“I…DON’T…WANT…TO…POSE…NAKED!!!” Kaname stomped her foot. Her eyes spat fire. “Not in front of you. Not in front of a two-faced self-centered otaku jerk! DO…I…MAKE…MYSELF…CLEAR?!!”

The artist stood still, his hand on his chin, eyes looking Kaname up and down. “Mr. Sagara, is this her usual game. Getting herself all pumped up with false denials, then savoring the sweet illicit taste of doing something she said she didn’t want to do?” The artist had clearly spent too much time around divas.

“Errr…”

“That’s what I thought. How long before she gets to the part where she agrees? We don’t have a lot of time. If I get the rough parts started, I can do a lot from memory.”

Sosuke stood still, his face blank. A deer caught in the headlights would look less stunned. The full impact of their topic of conversation hit him.

“It varies? I understand.” Mr. Valentin nodded his head and looked at his watch. Kaname’s face looked like something one would expect to see on a demon from the deepest hell.

“I SAID ‘NO.’ I QUIT. I’M GONE!” Kaname threw the robe over Sousuke’s head, kicked him in the ankle, then punted the plastic bin. In a huff, she began to walk away.

“She is serious?” Mr. Valentin said, shocked. “And I had just arrived at my chosen pose. Adam and Eve in the Garden, back to back, an apple in his hand. I suppose I can find someone else to join you, Sousuke.” That word “you” stopped Kaname in her tracks and made Sousuke swallow. “Your teacher is rather attractive, and would make a more mature seductress. Do you think she would accept?”

“W-H-A-T?-?-?” Kaname was back with them before they knew it. “Sousuke will NOT be posing with Miss Okibasu!”

“Why? Do you think she would refuse?” The artist needed to find someone in timely fashion.

“No.” Kaname knew damn well that Miss Okibasu would jump at the chance, convincing herself that it would be OK to be naked with Sousuke in that fashion. And if Sousuke ever got comfortable with that situation…. “He’ll…be….uh…posing…uh…with me.” She wanted to melt into a puddle and flow through the cracks in the tiled floor.

“Capital!” Mr. Valentin said. He looked over at Sousuke. “Animal magnetism. Gets them every time.” He gave Sousuke a friendly nudge with is elbow, winking.

Sousuke moved like a robot, the decision made for him, somehow incapable of independent thought. Kaname had made a promise. Her honor was important to him. There was no way he would be the one to break it. Kaname was doubly trapped now. She wouldn’t break her word. She would damn well not chicken out if Sgt. Sweatmeister was going through with it. And that teacher….

“I understand your modesty, Sir and Madame. My assistant and I will help you in that regard. Use these as blindfolds. We will maneuver you into position and take them off, then get started.” The painter handed Souskuke and Kaname long white sashes.

An hour latter, and the rough work was almost done. “Mr. Sagara, you are a treasure. That fear. The unease. That sweat. You truly look like you are caught on the horns of a dilemma. Miss Chidori, you are wonderful as well. That look of self-loathing, mixed with just a touch of longing, I have known few who would even attempt that. And I thought you two were among the world’s most fortunate, having the chance to meet me. Imagine my surprise, realizing the reverse is true.”

“Mr. Valentin, I hate to walk in unannounced, but the class needs to move on to the Hands On Lab to keep on schedule.” Miss Okibasu walked past the curtain. She stopped dead in her tracks, seeing what she did. “Oh My!” Her first reaction was utter surprise. She couldn’t take her eyes away. Soon, her expression changed. “Why Mr. Sagara, are you ever planning to leave that on your teacher’s desk?” She felt dirty saying it. The Devil made her do it.

She was not looking at the apple in Sousuke’s hand.


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The students were all busy. Individually, or in groups, they had selected their choice of materials and methods and started working through their ideas. Some had already started applying their chosen crafts, under the watchful eyes of the museum staff.

Sousuke was working in clay. Kaname chose to work with colored tiles because they were furthest away from the clay modeling area. A large number of artists clustered around Sousuke, wanting to see what inspirations he would come up with. The instructors had left Kaname to herself, as her attitude was rather severe after her recent embarrassment.

Miss Okibasu was chiseling away at a plaque of zebrawood, carving a work she intended to call Forbidden Dreams. Shinji was sweating inside a welder’s hood, his torch going at full strength---he was assembling an avantgarde looking M6 from mismatched pieces of scrap metal. Maya, Ryo, Mizuke, and Ren were working together. Mizuke was making a clay man, with features strongly reminiscent of Sousuke. The other three girls were each making a clay woman, one in the see no evil pose; one in the hear no evil pose; and one in the speak no evil pose. Not surprising, the clay women looked a lot like Kaname.

Sousuke worked quickly, the details flowing from his memory. Before long, he had made an accurate representation of an AK-47. Making use of a number of glazes, he colored his work, given the gunmetal a rusty hue. When the artists had left his side to check on other works, Sousuke stood staring at his own project. It needed something. What?

Kaname walked by, carrying an arm full of white flags she had made from cheese cloth and wooded dowels. She was planning on painting some of them like various national flags, before attaching them to a tile mosaic she had thrown together for her father’s wall in his U.N. office. She couldn’t help herself. Seeing what Sousuke was making, he stopped to give him her opinion.

“Oh, of course, a gun. I NEVER would have guessed. Who would have thought that a wacked-out military otaku freak would use this rare opportunity to make some kind of weapon? I mean, I would have thought that you might make an apple----or something ELSE---to put on the Teacher’s desk.” She lifted her nose in the air and added “Harummppff!!!”

“I apologize for disappointing you, Chidori. I only wished to work on something I was familiar with, as time is limited. I am also sorry that you are upset about my being naked with you, and that Miss Okibasu saw us that way.” The sound of dropped brushes, trowels, scrapers, chisels, pots, screens, and plaques was heard throughout the room. Sousuke had spoken too loud.

Kaname blushed, then grew very angry when she looked around the room. Everyone was staring at the two of them. “SOUSUKE…you…you…you…J-E-R-K-!-!-!” With that last word, Kaname slammed a number of the small flags down on Sousuke’s sculpture and ran off.

“I think you should go apologize, Sousuke.” Miss Okibasu walked over to speak with him quietly.. “Before that I should beg your pardon. I should never have walked in uninvited. It was wrong of me to make that joke. Please forgive me.” She went back to her project after Sousuke reassured her.

As Sousuke passed by the other students, they all made it a point to quickly get back to their own works. Walking over to Kaname, he saw her purposefully turn her back to him. “Sousuke, I do not want to see you…hear you…or speak to you…please go.”

Sousuke began to speak an apology, but stopped. His last apology was what caused this latest rift. He always seemed at a loss to know what to do or what to say. It is never that way on the battlefield. Turning, a blank canvas caught his attention. It seemed to call out to him. He picked it up and moved it over to another painting area. Staring at the paints, he sought a means to express his sudden creative urge. He banged his shin against a support column for the huge wooden tabletop. More accurately, he banged his combat knife, and the knife bannged against his leg.

His knife? Yes. THAT would do. He doubted that anyone had applied this method before. It was very practical.

Sousuke lined up a number of shallow pans and placed a different color paint in each one. He filled a large jar with mineral spirits. Taking his knife in hand, he dipped it into blue paint, then pressed it against the canvas in various spots. After cleaning the knife, he repeated the process with red point. The yellow. Green. Orange. Indigo. He moved the canvas to the table top, preparing to drip small bits of color here and there for a highlight effect. Not watching what he was doing, he had leaned one hand on a towel covered with red paint. Absentmindedly leaning on his canvas, he marked it with what appeared to be bloody handprints.

He noticed his mistake when he put the canvas back on its stand. It’s ruined! A rare surge of emotion surged through Sousuke. So many things had been happening. He was frustrated. Knife in hand, he struck out at the work, cutting a long diagonal slash .

First Kaname. Now his painting. What else could go wrong? He shook his head angrily. He jumped when a hand came down on his shoulder.

“Sousuke…I think maybe I was the jerk…I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you. It wasn’t very nice of me to say what I did. If I hadn’t done that, you wouldn’t have said what you did.” Kaname looked somewhat disconsolate.

“It is not a problem, Kaname. It was my fault. You had reason to be angry at me.”

“Well then, we were both wrong. Let’s make a deal. You’ll be careful with what you say. And I won’t get angry no matter what you do. Shake?” Kaname held out her hand.

“Affirmative.” Sousuke shook her hand. Feeling his hand around hers, Kaname smiled, then pulled away, blushing. Luckily, no one had been watching.

“MR. VALENTIN. OVER HERE. QUICK. YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS!!!” One of the younger artists, standing in the clay working area called out.

Sousuke and Kaname went over to see what the fuss was all about. When they got there, Mr. Valentin had joined a group of his peers. “Yes Marco, it is bold. Simple. Striking. Powerful.” He turned and scanned the room. “Whos’s is this?” He was leaning over Sousuke’s AK-47 sculpture.

“It is mine.” Sousuke said.

Mr. Valentin grabbed Sousuke by each shoulder and shook him. “It’s BRILLIANT!!! Just what we need for the display case in the Peace and War section of the museum.” The man was positively beside himself. “The gun, discarded and rusty. The myriad of peace flags rising out of it, a fresh new growth of hope. You are truly gifted, Mr. Sagara. If you keep this up, we are going to have to open a Sagara wing!”

“Uh…” Sousuke didn’t know what to say.

Kaname stood numb, as if she had been hit hard on the head with an axe handle.

“MR. VALENTIN! THIS IS TRULY REMARKABLE. HURRY” An elderly artist called out from the painting area.

“We haven’t had this much excitement before,” Mr. Valentin said. Joining the other artist, he gazed in womnder at one of the student’s works. Seeing Sousuke there too, he asked “Is this by chance one of yours too, Sousuke?” He pointed to the slashed canvas.

“Yes.” Sousuke nodded his head, certain he was about to be reprimanded for damaging museum property.

Kanane made a tsk tsk sound.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. It is perhaps more moving than the last. The instruments of death. The bloody prints of the victims. The ineffective slash, representing societies failure to stop such tradegy by the use of further violence. Mr. Sagara, when you finish with your schooling, you MUST come and join us here. I have never met anyone with the sensitivity you have. Could any other man possibly be a better champion of peace, a crusader against military force?”

“Uh…”

Kaname couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

Mr. Valentin happened to look over at another piece of work. It was a crudely formed world, made up of blue, green, brown, and white tiles. Flags of numerous nations surrounded it. The artist snickered, hiding his mouth behind his hand. “Someone cover this up with a cloth, quickly! We do NOT want to have Mr. Sagara looking at something like that. The shock might cause him to revert back to early childhood!” He had been looking at Kaname’s plaque. “And look, someone stole his idea to use flags. How perfectly gauche!” He and the other artists walked away laughing.

“S-S-S-SOUSUKE…I’m…I’m…going to---” Kaname had a large piece of maple in her hand. Her eyes were two burning coals. Whatever she was going to say or do was interrupted by another shout.

“MR. VALENTIN, WE HAVE A MAJOR PROBLEM!!!” The artists in the room all ran to huddle together, speaking in hushed tones, arms occasionally waving about in anger and dismay.

I can’t believe this. Not much time before the opening ceremonies to the new wing, and this happens. The gods must be against us.” A woman whose apron was covered with clay wrung her hands.

“The delivery company promised. It was an original Alexander Calder! What can possibly take its place?” An elderly gent holding a stoneworker’s mallet looked highly upset. “That enormous empty space. It will be an eye sore.”

“We have plenty of materials here, ladies and gentlemen. We have some of the foremost artists in the world. If it can be done, we can do it.” Mr. Valentin rubbed his head, deep in thought. Suddenly, his eyes grew very bright. “And, we have a miraculous source of inspiration.”

Sousuke had a look of curiosity on his face when Mr. Valentin walked over to bow before him. “We have a crisis, Mr. Sagara. We need your help. We need your genius.”

“GENIUS???” Kaname couldn’t help herself. It was too much. She swung the piece of wood at Sousuke’s head.

Sousuke ducked.

Mr. Valentin, smacked on the side of his face, fell to the ground at kaname's feet.

A camera flash went off repeatedly. Enrique smiled. “This is also a good one. I shall call it P.M.S.”

It took a dozen students to hold Kaname back.


************************************************************
End of pt 11

[Reaper DXR-7]

Man, just keep dishing out the funny, it works... Slapstick comedy, any other AS battles coming up, I wanna see Arbalest, but that is just my wants... Don't listen to me on that one, ok I just talkin outa my AZZ here so don't mind me...

This is funny, and ironic at the same time, Sousuke getting honored for distruction and Kaname pulling out Sousuke style armagedon, love it...

[dd]

@Reaper

Sousuke has never seen Arbalest at this point in time....

[HELLFIRE]

...artists as the hypochondriatic, neurotic, uptight balls of creative energy
stereotype.... makes me wonder why I spent 6 years studying to be one...

So when do we get to the main action here, dd?








Regards

[dd]

@HF

A little more hijinks, setting something up---Sousuke has an errand to run. Some trouble in the cafeteria perhaps. Then, when they reach the military hall....

Besides, in this story, the action scenes are not the primary focus.

[pilot03]

An apple a day......

[NewtypeZeta]

I doubt Souske will ever hear the end of this if Mao or Weber EVER lay eyes on that portrait.

And I cringe to think what will happen when Kaname's FATHER sees it. Her little sister might actually be somewhat jealous. ^_^

[dd]

@NTZ

If the public like the picture enough, the museum may petition to have a postage stamp made out of it...