Obsidian (2022)

6. The blossoms of life and death

Chapter 6

The blossoms of life and death

"Art doesn't live alone. Art begins and dies from another art."

The train charged over the rails cutting through the winds, heading towards the Science district. The sun had entered the windows of the train coupe and cast golden highlights over the sketches on the table. Patchy looked up through the window, as the train approached Rose station, the last stop in the Art district before it headed for the Central District. The train slowed down in front of the outdoor train stop. The blush-pink tiles were covered with white petals from the overgrown apricot trees, and the tall and beautiful conductor welcomed the passengers one by one inside.

Once the train was back and moving, Patchy adjusted his cap and leaned over his sketches. The last thing he needed was someone to recognize him and make a scene. He swirled the pencil in his hand and shaded the sketch.

"Would you like some coffee sir?"

Patchy gently drew back his shoulders and sank into the seat. "Yes."

He politely nodded as the older woman poured the steaming coffee into the mug. She placed the coffee pot back on the cart and placed the mug further away from his drawings.

"Anything else?"

"No thank you." He replied.

She leaned over the sketches. "That's a nice drawing. Is that your girlfriend?"

"Ah, no." Patchy looked down and smiled at the present for his sister. "It's my mother when she was young." Then realizing she might recognize the picture, he covered his sketch with another one.

The woman smiled and pushed the cart to the next coupe serving the other passengers.

Sighing in relief, Patchy took off his cap and rubbed his tired eyes. He needed the sleep and his eyes were becoming itchy every time he would relax. But if there was a way to ruin Rin, he would use every opportunity.

Once his informant had told him, Rin had secretly left Mirror City, he knew it was an opportunity he shouldn't miss.

He stared at his dull reflection on the window. He didn't have bright eyes or white hair. He was rather simple. His hair was brown and curly, his nose was long and pointy and his jaw was round. There were no striking appearances on his face and the dark circles underneath his eyes were not helping his non-gracious appearance.

But...

Patchy glanced away and lifted his sketches.

His talent was undeniable. He was art itself. Those who didn't know him, thought of him as plain, but those interested could understand the complexity. His face might have been plain but his spirit was far from it. Once he wanted something, he got it. Once he envisioned something, he would create it.

The train stopped at the Central station in Mirror city. Shoving his pencils and sketches back into his bag, he put his black cap on again and got off the train.

Heading to meet his informant, he passed through the many coffee places and stores embraced next to each other. The city was crowded and people strolled through the streets on the beautiful breezy day. The air smelled like vanilla and passion fruits, as cocktails were made on every corner.

Finding the coffee place he was looking for he glanced around until he found his informant. He spotted the bearded man at the corner table on the balcony and slid between the tables, grabbing a chair and sitting down.