Calligraphy club

The afternoon sun was past it's peak. Much easier to find shade, Finding a nice spot beside a tall bush, Kouichi began to set his things down. Two small ink bottles, filled. The list continued with a brush, three pens of different font sizes, along with a notebook. The late day sun was a wonderful illumination.

A loose plain white t-shirt hung around his shoulders and over his upper torso. His multi-season jacket ties around his waist, covering the waistband of his jean pants. A lack of initiative. Lazily dressing to go out. Bandanna dangling from his neck, his hair was free. An inch and a half of blond hair was was no longer restricted by a headpiece.

With all his materials in place, with a thud he dropped to a seated position and reached for the notebook and a fine tipped pen. The back end of the pen slide between his lips as he opened the notebook to a clean page. Eyes half open stared up, away from the sun. As though becoming lost in the endless blue. A color he hated. Which caused his lips into a frown. What a dull color, he thought. His eyes closed again, and returned his attention to the notebook. What to write was the question. His mind drifting in and out of thoughts. His inspiration came in a very odd way.

His hand began to move. Leaving vertical scribbles along the sheet of paper. The pen was accurate and swift. Reading to himself silently as he wrote.

It seemed like an odd subject for even him to write. It still didn't dawn on him his writing was foreign to the others in the school. Though kanji was his writing, not all could read it. It was simply multiple lines of vertical scribbles. Still very proud of his work, he set it down to work as an example. The example wasn't a great one. It did the job to show style of writing. His lips curled into a small smile. "Maybe I should have made more friends before I decided to do this..." He contemplated, watching the courtyard surroundings for anyone to join him.

A smile peeled its way over the softness of her lips as she started out wards the courtyard the heat against her skin only gave her a warming sensation. She had seen the notice on the board of a Calligraphy Club. Since Tristan always told her that her writing was sloppy and lacked the character of art she thought this would be a good way to figure out what he meant by the art of writing and not just the creativity behind it. Looking out across the courtyard the first thing to capture her eye was how the fountain looked so beautiful in the distance. The way the water droplets sprinkled and fell to towards the ground once shot upwards out of cement spout.

The lids of her eyes closed slowly as she felt the dampness of the nudge blades of grass against the pads of her bare feet. It was the one thing that she loved, now if only she was in a field of lavender would it make it that much better. Under her arm she carried a rather large drawing board, if there was one thing she enjoyed was using the pollens of flowers to paint pictures. Though she doubted it would make any sense to anyone but herself, even Tristan poked a little fun at her every now and again because she liked how her pictures smelled.

Long violet locks of hair billowed out around her shoulders as she continued to make her way into the court yard, a small brown peasant looking dress hung around her small frame. The dress had a continuous ruffling through it and tied around her neck. Across her shoulder was her saddle bags that carried a few feather pens and two ink wells that were corked. Seeing Kouichi in the distance she would whistle out towards him alerting him that she was on her way. She smiled softly as she reached up and tucked a few strands of hair behind her ears.

“Hey! I saw your posting about the club. I hope you don’t mind me coming…”

"Welcome Lillian-san." He chuckled, head falling forward a mere inch. Never did he gaze to the voice, or see the female nearing. His limbs all seemed to move in unison, pushing the ground away to lift him up. Such a long lanky person. Once at a full stand, and brushing off his pants, he sighed. "Geez, I wear them more and more, and still can't get used to regular clothes..." Completely forgetting about the new comer for a moment. "Damn street clothes..." He cursed his attire moments more.

"Now then..." His head tilted to the left, shooting his gaze to her. His stare was gentle. Friendly, accompanied by a childish smile. "It is a pleasure to have you join me." It dawned quickly he never thought about seating, and simply looked around with a curious expression. "Please, come sit. I would love to hear your ideas on calligraphy." Reaching for the notebook he had discarded just seconds before. Flipping the page as though to decide the writing he did was less impressive now. "What styles are you aware of? What, if any, ideas you have to make more beautiful. I'm sorry to inform you, it does not have any set history, but that makes things more fun."

His eye lids parted, allowing sight of icy blue hues. Though any spark had long since hidden itself. His lips curling into a small smirk. Chuckling as he began to tap his pen along on the notebook. Awaiting her answer.

A very small hue of blush came over the softness of her cheeks holding on to her drawing board she would continue to move towards the tree. Hearing his words about the clothing the violet eyes would search over them and she shrugged.

“I myself cannot stand shoes”

Her toes dug into the nude blades of grass beneath them. Tilting her head to the side a bit she would shift the bag against her shoulders as she soon found a resting place for it.

With a big of a clank the ink wells would hit the iron pot inside her bag one could think it was impressive how much she carried around. Moving to site basically in the same area he had just previously be she would smile.

“All right, get out your pen and we can practice together!”

A smirk twisted on her lips as she watched him flip the papers of his notebook, she would peer over and try and get a glimpse of what he was working on. Slowly she would sit next to her bag gently, propping her feet up a bit as she bent her knees using her lap as a make shift table. The wind was gentle, as she reached into her bag to take out her feather quill pen and ink well she smiled.

“Long ago I was told a story that you have to see through nature. When I write I think of the vines growing up a tree or the stems of flowers with leaves. They all have a natural type of beauty within them.”

Placing the ink well beside her feet just in case if she knocked it over, it wouldn’t damage anything but the grass bed, she rested on. Looking over to him with a smile, she would dip the pen into the well, and place it against the paper and very carefully she would start to draw a thin small swirl.

With a soft chuckle, he nodded. "Nature was really be dear to you. A lot of what you talk about is compared to it." His lips curling into a smile. A very kind one at that. His hands stopped turning pages. His pen in his hand dipping to the ink once more and then jumping to the paper. This time he focused in at least writing Romanji for her to see the artistic design. First thing was his name. Kouichi Aizawa. The 'K' was elegant. The very size of the lines uses differed in width. Yet in reality he changed nothing but the angles. Spiraling into existence at the start, the first line dropped. At the base, it became a small run off stream. Second line was simply straight but once more differing width. The last went from small to big, with another threat of being sent spiraling. From there, the letters all had the width alterations in common but were very neat and symmetrical. The 'A' had no spirals to it, but was sharp as an arrow. It's very tip connected by the thinnest parts of the lines. The cross over between seemed so bold, as if holding the letter. Again, symmetrical formed letters with differing widths.

It was real simple, yet once he was finished, he turned the note book towards her and allowed her to see the work. "This is a very simple task. Write your name using any form you see fit." He wanted to see it first hand. Did she have any experience before? "Instruction is available. But please try on your own first." He smiled childishly with a chuckle. As though encouraging a free minded creativity. Hoping perhaps if they worked slowly that they may find a way to work together on a project.

Setting the black feathered pen into the mouth of the inkwell, the violet eyes peered over to his pad to take a peek at his artwork. A smile smeared over her lips he seemed to really know what he was talking about?

The lids of her eyes slowly opened and closed, as his pen seemed to have a relationship with his paper. The flow of his hand almost resembled that of the oncoming waves on the ocean tide. The way the pen lifted and then set he truly understood how to take something very simple and make it very beautiful. A small blush would occur on her cheeks as she continued to watch him, it was just beautiful, looking down at her paper everything look more of a nature approach.

Smiling gently she would speak… “I was raised to be one with nature, to respect it for what it is and appreciate the value in the fact that it gives and inspires life.”

Looking at his work and listening to his words she begin to try and think of how to write her name, he challenged her to be more surreal. A few violet locks of hair fell down her face gently, biting on to her bottom lip trying and visualize something different. Though her name was Lillian, as she was name after the beautiful flower, the petals and veins and stamens just wouldn’t come out of her mind. Reaching forward she picked up the black feather quill pen once more and pressed it to the paper. She begin to draw a small spiral as she would look up every now and then to Kouichi for some type of praise or approval.

“Like this…" she said lightly as the pen would then dip downward to create the steam for the L in her name.

"Wonderful!" He praised, a childish grin accompanied his closed eyes. A soft chuckle escaped and he turned his gaze away for a brief moment. He set the pad of paper down so she could use it as an example, and began to pluck the longest blades of grass he could. It was as though his mind wandered from the task at hand. One hand twisted and toyed with the blades he had, as he continued to look for more. Slowly as the number grew, it began to seem more vine-like. Blades of grass entwined together. "Nature is indeed an inspiration. I agree one hundred percent." Though his eyes were closed and his gaze was aimed towards the grass. Still whenever his companion looked up, he nodded.

"Though not all agree, calligraphy is a large part of theater and even film. It was once used to show dialog in silent films. Also as breath-taking, eye-catching signs for theater. If I may..." The small hand-made vine was complete soon after that statement. He leaned in, and used it to tie Lillian's hair back into a pony tail. Though knots were not present, he managed it to twist together tightly and hold well. Retreating after the deed was done. His right hand lifting and shaking his index finger in the air a bit. "A bit of advice, when forming the lower case 'L' start with the top wide, half way down, lift and flip the angle mirror. It will give it a bit of a twist illusion." His childish grin spread wide, and his closed eyes imitated a fox-mask from an Autumn festival.

The wind was soft as it blew across her face ridding the few strands of hair that had been left behind. The natures kiss was something she truly enjoyed, plus she enjoyed the thrill of learning something new. She was like a sponge, when ever new information or experiences where about she wanted to become completely saturated with that experience. The plume of the black feather pen would sway with the breeze; she couldn’t help but brace it as she listened carefully to the instruction given. The tips of her toes silently violated the nude blades of grass under her feet as she curled them against them.

Hearing Kouichi’s voice of praise she would smile, as looking down at the piece of paper. Biting down on the puff of her lip as she listens as he critiqued her work; she wasn’t really too keen on being critiqued but it was the only way to learn things and improve. She took it in stride, as she watched his every move and stroke as he moved the pen across the paper. Violet spheres looked upwards once more towards him to make sure she was doing well. As the pen pressed itself against paper, nature was what she knew best due to her life with Tristan.

Tilting her head ever so slightly to the side when he began to explain to her the ways Calligraphy has been used. “Theater…?”she would ask in a very inquisitive tone, reaching forward she would carefully dip the pen into the ink well once more. She would remain perfectly still hearing his request as he took her hair into his hands, only the lids of her eyes would close until the knot was drawn into the locks. The lids of her eyes would flicker open once more and she would smile at him, and reply sweetly “Thank you.. Shall we continue?”

Chuckling at his statement and his reactions she would stick out that scarlet tongue at him playfully and attempt to press her hand against his shoulder in a playful nudge. A bit of a smirk highlighted on to her lips as she had an idea, reaching up she would rip the paper from her ledger so a fresh start could be in order. “You need a new bit of paper… Now… I want to watch you and mirror what you do…”She would wait for him to get his own pen and paper out as she rested her against the ground.

Her friendly actions were taken in stride. Up until she attempted to touch him. Eye lids sprang wide, and an expression of utter fear filled the orbs which were revealed. "Don't touch me!" His feet skittered to push him away, as his hands aided in the attempt. Everything down to his very core was shaking. In fact the way he jumped left a very beastly stance. His knees pressed firmly to the dirt below them.

His fear quite obvious in his eyes. As he stared. Lips dry, breathing slow and deep. He observed her, their environment, the situation. It calmed him a bit, yet still he stayed a bit further from her. Pulling a very sharp looking pen from the few he had, he nodded. "Yes, though theater is popular and well known. Those who do not know of them, can only be drawn in by beautiful images and marvelous writing for the tittle." She also demanded he teach by example. That was something he could do. The tip of the pen poked his tongue softly and then dropped into an ink well of his own. Pulling his notebook to him, he began with a simple letter, a 'A'. It's style was that of old English. Bold and narrow, thick and thin. It's appearance was well noted to ANY person who had read any text from Europe.

"You see, calligraphy is common. From the America's to my homeland of Japan..." As he spoke, he continued the alphabet with a 'B'. This drained the ink on the pen and required him to retrieve more. "Most don't grasp that any handwriting is calligraphy." The tip of the pen accurately jumping back to the page at the correct point. Continuing the alphabet once more. "If one were to write words in actual numbers..." He snickered and halted his writing, mid-letter. "It is still calligraphy because it's an alphanumerical artwork." He waited to observe if his 'teaching' was successful or not.

When not writing, he was once more in a beastly stance. Knees digging into the dirt, hands in fists, and his boney knuckles lancing the ground. His lips curling into a smirk, and his eye lids returning to their seemingly closed positions. A facial expression that replicated a festival fox mask, stared at Lillian with a child-like interest.

Like the wings of a fluttering bird her arms would pull back quickly and curl against her chest, she was uncertain of his outcry. The behavior itself was odd, and she knew odd, but this was more like a peculiar odd. No words were spoken; silence was there as she moved her hand back down to the paper and cleared her throat. Questions where ranging through her mind…

“Why would he not want to be touched, even better what was up with him and his personal space? Earlier he had plucked a pen out of thin air, and not before she was even close enough to touch him he freaked out. This was an issue she would figure out; she was quite the little investigator especially since her days at HHSR serving as council number 9.

Fingertips touches the stands of her hair as she looked back up to Kouichi her face had not reflected any type of change, instead she looked as friendly and inviting as ever. She wanted to make him feel comfortable, and it appeared that he did as he started to share a little more of his history with her. Bringing the feather quill up to her cheek she would sweep it across very slowly. Watching as he began to let the pen dance on the paper once more and she would mimic his work.

The writing itself reminded her of the old text documents that she saw at the museums, and plus Tristan had very detailed. Leaning over her shadow would cast itself onto the paper smiling she would look up to him with those violet eyes.

“Like this….?”She would ask in question as she was mirror his exact motion. “What would it be like if we wrote all the letters on top of each other, the whole alphabet? Do you know what the artwork would look like then? Does it create a picture?”

"I suppose you could figure out certain words that would form a pretty little illustration, but off the top of my head, I can't..." His words trailed off as he stared in awe at how swift this nature loving lavender girl had picked up calligraphy. His mouth still mid-word. It delighted him to say the least.

With an proud nod, his lips twisted into a very childish nod. "Very good Lillian-san. Magnificent as western citizens would say." Pushing off the ground with a great burst of energy, Kouichi clapped in a very happy child manner. "The next step is to practice. Try your name once more. See if it does not feel much smoother." Settling back with knees tucked below him, his grin stayed painted. "While you practice, I shall write as well. So So take as long as you need to."

Grasping an average everyday pen, he flipped to a new page of his notebook. Head tilting to the left and leaning back, the flat end of the pen bounced against his chin in thought. Staring up at the puffy clouds in the sky. What to write? A single word, or many? Would he use Gothic, or maybe Uncial? So many possibilities.

Though he truly wasn't writing any story. No poem appeared. In fact the words that were formed seemed very mismatched and random. Each letter was a differed style. Once he had cycled through about twelve different lettered, styles and alternated between upper and lowercase, he started all over again. Words that were of no concern to each other what so ever.

As they wrote, he began to hum softly. A rapid, up beat tune. It was a song that at least meant something to him. There were many meanings behind it, yet still. Including his expression of never being called oji-san. That was another story all together.

Brushing the feather gently across the puff of her cheek, while contemplating the idea of what words she could use to write on top of each other. The thought never left her mind it only continued as she was still trying to decide what the best avenue was. Humming softly to herself, just because he didn’t know of didn’t mean that she
couldn’t figure it out.

“Well…. I will try a few just to see what we can come up with…. Maybe start with the word that…”

Giggling with a very light blush hinting over her cheeks, as he congratulated her on the accomplishment, knowledge was something she was generally very good at. Well, as long as the instructions where detailed enough for her to remember. Bowing her head down she would throw her arms outward in a pose.

“Thank you… Thank you” she would playfully gesture with the feather in hand twirling it almost like it was a baton.

He told her to practice it reminded her of the classes and smiled as she would press the quill back down on the paper and speak softly.

“Maybe you should take the flute out that you took from Professor Vincent and play it, I would enjoy hearing music while I practice the art”

Looking up at him with those cute little innocent almost eyes, and the biggest smile that she could muster as she said the word… “Please….”

She could hear his humming lightly and only thought it would make sense, maybe he could play it. She was very familiar with a pan flute and even had one in her bag. Due to how she was raised, she knew perhaps some of the rare ancients available.

The ink would soon start to move back over the pad of paper as she started to write the first letter of her name once more, she was a little curious if he would actually entertain the idea or brush it off.

"I'm not very good at the flute. I know only a fraction of what my mother knew."

Still, when she stared with those eyes, he felt slightly uneasy. As though to pacify her, he reached into his bag and pulled the japanese style flute out. His tongue running over his lips to moisten them. Setting the pen down, he looked at her. His eye lids opening to get a clear look. Grasping the inspiration she may off.

With a sharp, swift inhale. He lifted the flute in both hands. Elbows bent properly. His right elbow at six o'clock. His left at nine o'clock. He put the flute to his lips. Eyes closing and began to play. Each note was drawn out. Used to it's fullest extent, before being replaced with a new one. A song that seemed more like it was played by spirits of the wind. A choir of each note's bond with the others.

Lost in the world of the song, unaware of his surroundings anymore. His blond hair blew in the wind, and his bandanna began to loosen. Still he did not stop playing. Taking upon the job of story teller. The soft notes of the flute were sweet. Sparking a flare of love and hope. Spinning a web that, within it's woven trend, produced a portrait of young hopes.

The ink would continue to make its mark gently to the paper, as if a bond was made for the paper itself could not be beautiful without the ink’s touch upon it. Curiosity would get the best of her as she looked upwards almost ready to make her request a bit of a challenge she had a flute of her own in her bag, it wasn’t nearly like what the professor had. Pushing the strands of her hair back behind her ears she would smile softly as she started on her next letter.
His body language told her all that she needed to know, he was slightly rigid and hesitant over her request, yet for some reason he went ahead and pulled the flute out of the bag.

Violet eyes watched him as he sat there and as if trained by a certain way, he would straighten up his posture and poise and began his interlude on the flute. The smile never left her lips as he continued to play the longer he played the more it seemed that he began one with the music.

The story was beautiful each note told, it was different from her own style but she could not resist, she didn’t want to interrupt but when he seemed to be lost in himself. She would reach up into the saddle bag as the tips of her fingers curled around the bamboo flutes reed. She had craved it herself, taught by a master herself. She was sure that if he was in the area once she started to play it would soothe his soul.

Placing the reed to her lips , drawing the tip of her tongue across the bridge of her lips as she pressed the reed towards it. Taking in deep breath she would listen to his tune and do her best to harmonize with it using the higher notes on the reed. The lids of her eyes would close and her notes were few but enough to blend with his own.

There, his fellow classmate joined in. Like a challenge, his notes drew shorter and began to speed up. No more than a tenth of a second shorter and faster, but still a speed up. His fingers did not move anymore than to release the holes of the flute and return to their positions. This increase in numbers of notes and speed, her playing the soothing beginning, it became a new tale in the air. Like horror struck the very heart of the story.

The quarrel came to an end though, and his notes slowed. Just as fast as they picked up. There was indeed a tale that went to this song. From ages before electricity was harnessed, and iron and steel flew from barrels of guns. A play perhaps, Kouichi couldn't remember where he heard the song. He did know he was never actually taught it.

Lowering the flute, he smirked. And gazed over at his company. "The interlude between quarrels is quite long. And merely repeats itself. Sorry, this is no stage with actors. I would prefer not playing the entire tune." His voice danced with snickering words. Happy she enjoyed it enough to join. Left hand lowering, he set the flute down and replaced it with the pen in his hand.

"Now then, oh kitsune of Ireland. Shall we return to our original goal here? I'm still so curious as to what style of calligraphy will you find our own." That said, his attention dropped to his blank page. The tip of the pen kissed the paper. Leaving a trail of destroyed purity. The marks were began to take shape. Like the letters were merely a stick grow upon, he doodled. Writing out her name, 'Lillian', each letter seemed to be a different style of plant. From vines to flowers. "This is one of many ways that calligraphy can make beauty out of even the simplest of things like lines."

Looking back up to him with a smile on her lips, she said nothing she didn’t know if she had offended him or if it was just the end of the song.

Laughing gently at what he said as she shook her head “I am no kitsune, they are mythical creatures and does it look like I have tails?”she would gesture towards her body and look at him. The reaction was playful, but blunt to the point. Reaching back down towards the pen and paper once more she placed them into her lap.

Looking up towards the tree’s she realized it was getting late and the time was drawing near for her to join Tristan for some tea.

She would stay a little longer as she peered over his shoulder on how he wrote her name.

“Beautifully done.” Nodding gently she would take her ink well and allow a few droplets to drip on to the paper.

Smirking she was sure he would scold her but she wanted to make him something in return for teaching her. Dripping the ink at all corners of the paper including a bigger drop in the center she would rest the well back on the blades of grass, and she put the pen back into his resting place.

Using her finger she would soon start to move the ink around the paper, the patterns would begin to take shape as they would resemble the lilly flower petals. She could continue on while her finger moved across the paper and the end product was completed. Holding out a black and white picture of a lilly she offered it to him as she waited for him to take it.

“Here for you, I do need to get going. We should do this again some time. “

Taking the picture from her. He smiled, a genuine smile. Still, he tucked the piece of art aside, and began to gather his supplies. "You and I both know, that beats of legend are real. From the spirits in the wind, to dragons of the sea." His chuckle left those words with a bitter hint to them. "I have seen a kitsune with my own eyes. Not far from how you are, she acted the very same way. Curious, and welcoming." Setting all the papers and note books together. His feet pushed into the ground, and his knees lifted as he stood.

The time did indeed seem to fly. A soft nod brought his gaze back to his company. "Do enjoy the rest of your day. You are welcome to join me at any time." Bowing his head once more, the blond hair seemed to follow his lead for a second bow. "Perhaps next time, you can show me something new."

Bending down to collect his pile of work. "I shall see you in music then." With books and pens in hand, he flicked a wave back towards her. Beginning his trail towards the exit of the school grounds. His stance was almost completely care-free. A wobbling balance that forced him to sway side to side with each step. A tune escaping his throat in a hum. Kouichi took his leave of the school for the time being.

[Exit]