Art Pamphlet

By Lord Raa

Disclaim-me-do: Ladies, don't be fooled. Sometimes, your knight in shining armour is just a Muppet in tin foil.

Part 4

Motoko had found herself knocked to the ground repeatedly in the space of three minutes.

"Come on, Motoko, I've seen houses of cards made by drunks stay up longer than that," Tsuruko taunted.

"I'm not ready!" the younger sister protested.

"It is a fundamental law of combat that your opponent will attack when they're ready, and not when you are. Get up and we'll go again."

Motoko blinked. Her sister's reputation for pushing people to be their best was well known, but this was borderline sadistic.

"I said get up!"

Reflexively, the kendoist jumped to her feet and fell into a basic Shinmeiryu stance.

Again, Tsuruko burst into action, taking the younger Aoyama by surprise and knocking her to the ground.

"I see you've been slacking on your training, Motoko. I will have to correct that lapse."

"What did I do to deserve this?"

"Oh, I think you know, Motoko."

"… I'm sorry, Aneue."

"Why did you say it?"

"I…"

"Why. Did. You. Say. It?"

"I… didn't mean to upset Keitaro, I just…"

"Just what?" Tsuruko demanded. "Oh I get it, you like Keitaro. Well, you're never going to get anywhere with that timid attitude. How was he supposed to know you like him? You're so prickly and stand-offish. A man like Keitaro needs to feel safe before he can open up. He's a sensitive soul.

"Acting like a some badly written tsundere is only going to cause him to push people away."

"It wasn't like I was beating him up for no reason."

"But you were beating him up. If you've damaged his hands, Motoko…" Tsuruko's implied threat was left to Motoko's imagination.

"I'm sorry," the younger sister bowed remorsefully. After a moment, a thought occurred to her. "Wait, there's only two reasons why you'd abandon your search for Orateki so quickly. Either you've fallen in love with Keitaro or you've found…"

Tsuruko's lightning fast reactions came to the fore as she slapped a hand over her sister's mouth. "If you breathe even one hint of a word of this to anyone, you'll be back home before your feet touch the ground. Do you understand me?"

Motoko nodded enthusiastically.

"Good. Now, I've got to go to Keitaro and make things better."

Keitaro could feel his stomach somersault as he considered what he'd just learned.

How long had Tsuruko been looking for him? How much of her behaviour had been an act to get close to him?

Who else knew that he was Orateki? How much did Motoko know?

Could he trust Motoko to keep his secret?

If the others knew he was Orateki, what could he do? Where could he flee to?

The knock on the door curtailed further questions and Tsuruko let herself in. Once the door was closed, she fell to her knees and touched her forehead on the floor.

"Please accept my apologies, Keitaro-san. It was never my intention to mislead you or attempt to trick you. It was blind luck that you happened to be the person I was looking for."

"But what am I supposed to do now?" Keitaro sighed.

"My offer of support would have been made regardless of your reputation, Keitaro-san. That you are… him is immaterial. However, there is something else you should know."

"What's that?"

"Motoko has an idea about your alter ego."

"Crap. This is exactly what I wanted to avoid. I can't tell anyone, or they'll keep pressuring me. I don't handle pressure well at the best of times, that's why I'm a third year ronin," Keitaro admitted. "The more people know, the more pressure there'll be. And the more pressure, the harder it is to draw, paint, sketch, whatever."

As Tsuruko looked up, Keitaro continued his piece.

"The longer it takes for something to come out, the more people expect things, creating more pressure. Soon, the people who dislike what I do will start up again, saying I was a flash in the pan. I can't win."

The swordswoman frowned. Keitaro would never win with that line of thinking, but maybe, just maybe with some help, he could see things differently.

After all, even the greatest painters in history had their critics: da Vinci rarely finished anything, Caravaggio would get into brawls at the drop of a hat and a great many of them were unfaithful to their wives.

But what would the best way to get Keitaro off this path of self-doubt and possible self-destruction and back onto a way to more fully realise his potential as an artist?

Tsuruko's answer was a delicate blend of carrot, stick, diplomacy, outright flattery and, if need be, sexual favours.

"Keitaro-san, if I may…"

Keitaro looked at Tsuruko, still kneeling and felt a pang of guilt. "You shouldn't be the one apologising like that. It should be me. I… you're the one with dignity. I'm just some idiot who can move a pencil about better than some."

"Then let me help you, Keitaro-san. I can't guide your hand and I might not make a good muse, but I can be your model and I can help you with your day to day life. I might even be able to help you with your studies."

Keitaro perked up at that idea. "I… I would like that. But what will we tell the others? I don't want them to know who I am, and you're too important to help a nobody."

"I'll think of something, Keitaro-san," the swordswoman said with a warm, genuine smile. "Now, let's see where you got to with your latest drawing, shall we?"

The artist nodded, showing Tsuruko the current state of the sketch.

"You know, Tsuruko-san, this isn't as bad as I'd feared. Not good enough to sell, but better than I expected. At this rate, I might have something someone would want to buy before the end of the year."

Tsuruko's nod was somewhat absent as she looked over the image of her inspecting a sword. To her, the picture was something to be treasured, regardless of its creator.

Kitsune noticed that Motoko was looking a bit pale after her impromptu training session.

"Is everything alright, Motoko? You look a bit… well, you look like Keitaro after he landed face first into Naru's laundry."

The kendoist winced at the mention of Keitaro. "I… I was just taken aback by Aneue's training session. It was more advanced than I was expecting."

Kitsune shrugged. She could tell that there was something that Motoko wasn't telling her, but deemed it unimportant.

"Speaking of Keitaro, how's he doing? He was a bit upset during lunch."

"Keitaro's… It's… I…" Motoko struggled to find the right words to describe the situation. "I'm not sure what I can tell you."

"I don't know if that sounds serious or sordid," the ash-blonde smirked. "Your sister does seem to like Keitaro a lot…"

"You're the one who wanted to pose nude for him," the kendoist shot back.

"You've got a lot to learn about flirting with men, Motoko," Kitsune said.

"OK, so offering to pose nude for a young man is flirting," Motoko conceded. "What do you call carrying someone off?"

"That's usually that start of some kind of sexy role-play game."

"Then Aneue is in love with Keitaro!" the raven-haired woman exclaimed. "She's trying to steal him away from m- uh, us!"

Kitsune shook her head. Motoko was just like Naru when it came to jumping to conclusions. "You really think that your sister came up to Tokyo to steal Keitaro? A man she met for the first time a few days ago?"

"Well, the other option was that she found Orateki," Motoko replied absently.

The ash-blonde blinked. The more that she thought about it, the more she realised that it was possible that Keitaro was the legendary Orateki.

Keitaro was shy and defensive about his drawings. Orateki's last publicly released artwork was five years ago.

If Keitaro was Orateki, then it would explain why he failed the Toudai entrance exams twice before arriving at the Hinata Sou: He could have been working on some drawings or paintings.

Keitaro didn't handle pressure very well, and there was a significant pressure that came with being an artist of the renown of Orateki.

Kitsune knew that she had to investigate further, but would have to tread lightly. Naru or Motoko would barge in and demand to know the truth.

Keitaro would either deny it convincingly or buckle. If he buckled, there was no telling what he might do. He could destroy every last sketch in the house and vow to never draw again.

No, Kitsune would have to use finesse to get to the bottom of this mystery.

And even if she was right and Keitaro was Orateki, what would she do with that information? Keitaro valued the anonymity he currently had, revealing his identity would be a massive betrayal.

Would anyone believe her, anyway? Countless con artists had pretended to be famous anonymous artists before, why would they believe her just because she had some sketches that were a bit like Orateki's?

"I'll tell you what, Motoko, give me a few days and I'll see what I can find out. I have few tricks up my sleeve."

"All right, Kitsune."

Keitaro sat back, looking at the sketch before him. He wasn't completely satisfied with it, but there wasn't much he could to improve upon it without starting again.

He handed it over to Tsuruko. "There, it's as good as I'm going to make it."

Tsuruko looked over the sketch and smiled. "It's beautiful, Keitaro. Thank you."

The artist breathed a sigh of relief that his first piece was well-received. It turned into a smile when Tsuruko said that she was happy with it the way it was.

"You're welcome, Tsuruko-san. Just… I… is it alright if I don't sign it?"

"It's a sketch from a friend, that's all anyone needs to know about it. I will treasure it for as long as I can see," the swordswoman gave a genuine smile.

"Thank you, Tsuruko-san," Keitaro smiled back. He let out a yawn. "It's been a while since I've drawn anything like that. I'd forgotten how tiring being 'creative' can be."

"Why don't you take a nap? Get some rest before dinner," Tsuruko suggested

"Yeah," the artist nodded before heading to his bed. He slipped his glasses off and within moments of closing his eyes, he was asleep.

The swordswoman smiled before gathering up her prize and leaving Keitaro to get some rest.

Kitsune was thinking about things. Ever since her latest conversation with Motoko, she'd been increasingly curious about what Tsuruko's intentions towards Keitaro actually were.

It was possible that Tsuruko had fallen in love with Keitaro. Keitaro certainly had a certain charm. But was he charming enough to win someone over after only a few days?

The ash-blonde recalled the wistful way Tsuruko had talked about her husband, implying that he was no longer around. If it had been a while, then Keitaro could be seen as a breath of fresh air to the people Tsuruko normally encountered.

But Motoko had often mentioned that Tsuruko was capable of much cruelty and mockery, so it was possible that she was just having a bit of fun.

Kitsune could not deny that there was fun to be had with Keitaro. A bit of flirting here, a cheeky bit of innuendo there and there was plenty of entertainment to be had.

It was almost certain that Motoko's first conclusion that Tsuruko was there to arrange a marriage was incorrect. The rich, noble clans that the Aoyamas belonged to certainly had their eccentricities, but seducing a potential fiancé for a sibling while investigating him was pushing it.

So what was the other possibility that Motoko had suggested? That Keitaro was Orateki.

Could it be that Keitaro Urashima was the famous Orateki?

While Keitaro certainly had more artistic talent than most people Kitsune knew, he never acted like he was a famous artist. But then, Orateki never really acted like he was a famous artist, either.

He was always filled with doubt, like Keitaro.

He was uncomfortable being the centre of attention, like Keitaro.

Pure coincidence, the ash-blonde told herself. The similarities between Keitaro and Orateki were the same as Shinobu and Orateki.

"Except that Keitaro clearly has secrets," she said aloud.

A thought entered Kitsune's head and she picked up a pencil and a piece of paper. She wrote out Orateki's name in hiragana and started to rearrange the syllables.

"Of course it's not making any sense, it'd be too easy," she laughed at her own foolishness. Glancing at her empty teacup, Kitsune decided that it would be a good idea to have a drink.

Getting up to stretch her legs would be a good idea, she didn't want to have them cramp up like Tsuruko's did earlier.

Opening the door to her room, she noticed that Tsuruko was emerging from Keitaro's room with a broad smile on her face.

If it wasn't for her relatively pristine appearance, she would have hazarded that the reason for her smile and the faint snoring from Keitaro was an adult encounter.

But there had been no sounds of lovemaking, so unless Keitaro was between Tsuruko's legs while she silenced herself by biting a pillow, they hadn't had sex.

Then Kitsune noticed the piece of paper that was clutched tightly to the swordswoman's chest.

'That's the sketch Keitaro did…'

"Hey, Tsuruko-san!"

Surprised, but not startled by the words, Tsuruko turned to face the buxom young woman. "Hello, Kitsune. What can I do for your?"

"Can I see your picture? I'm curious as to how good Keitaro is," the short-haired tenant smiled.

"You can look, but you can't touch," the swordswoman warned as she turned the image to face Kitsune.

"Keitaro's pretty good," Kitsune said after letting out an impressed whistle. "So, how much did that cost you?"

"It cost me nothing." Tsuruko pulled the precious artwork to her chest. "But it's priceless. It's important to learn the difference between value and cost."

The ash-blonde could feel the air turn a little chilly with Tsuruko's comment.

"I didn't meant to cause offence, I was just curious as to what Keitaro's commission rates are," Kitsune insisted. 'Not even Haruka's this protective of Keitaro.'

"Keitaro-san is not currently taking commissions, Kitsune."

"Fair enough. Fancy a drink before dinner? Maybe a quick bath, too?" the ash-blonde said, flashing a winning smile at the stern-looking swordswoman.

"That's not a bad idea. Let me put this somewhere safe and I'll join you," Tsuruko smiled back, completely changing the atmosphere around them. 'If she's with me, she won't be bothering Keitaro-san.'

Motoko saw that her sister was walking towards the bath with Kitsune.

"Aneue…"

"Ah, there you, Motoko. Why don't you join us in the bath?" Tsuruko asked with a warm smile. "I think you need to relax more, especially after your earlier training session."

"I…" Motoko was trying to think of a reason not to use the bath, especially after Kitsune had promised to investigate Tsuruko's plan, but was wilting under the glare she was receiving from her older sibling. "I guess I can make the time."

"Good. Grab your things and join us in the bath."

Motoko snapped to attention and scurried off to her room for her bathing supplies.

The older Aoyama turned to Kitsune. "I think it might be nice to get to know Naru-san better while we're all in the bath."

"Naru's out at the moment," the ash-blonde shrugged. It was clear that Tsuruko was planning something, but what?

"You've taken quite the shine to Keitaro, haven't you, Tsuruko-san?" she said.

"There's something about Keitaro-san that I find uniquely interesting," the swordswoman replied with a smile on her lips.

Kitsune was now understanding why Motoko felt the way she did about Tsuruko. The older Aoyama was polite, witty, kind, but there was a deviousness that was unsettling.

'I'm going to have to keep an eye on you, Tsuruko Aoyama…'

Tsuruko cast a critical glance over Kitsune, pondering what the situation with her and Keitaro was.

'Keitaro wouldn't have been feeling so down if they were an item. He might not have the motivation to draw, but he'd be feeling better about himself. If they'd been an item and had a breakup, then things would have been a lot more tense and awkward around here. But that would explain Keitaro's depression…'

Motoko arrived to hear her sister ask, "Kitsune, tell me, were you and Keitaro dating at all?"

To be continued…

A short chapter, but I have started the next one. However, I'm not yet sure what direction this story will go in. After all, it is the slightly more serious reworking of the idea behind "Art Attack".

Until the next time, be excellent to each other.