Resonating Frequency in Blue - A Blue Period KumoTora fanfic

1 - A Frequency

Even according to some of the greatest artists, there are good and forgiving parts to the art they create. However, they are mirrored by the soul of the artist, forgiving yet unabridged, blue and red, melancholy. The many sounds artists make echoes and resonates between the ears and hearts of artists, a frequency most forgiving and striking to the soul. Even if there's so many times that the art is not the one that feels heartwarming to an artist's brain, since sometimes only their own art makes up for the unforgiving truth.

Some of these artists never find their, or any other frequency that matches their own.

The streets of Shibuya in the morning are blue, but they are not representative of the feelings blue are supposed to awaken. Instead of the sad context it was supposed to provide, it made for a refreshing start. Blue. It wasn't supposed to be refreshing, a symbol for the peacefulness of the early morning in a city usually so bustling and crowded, it was not supposed to awaken something in Yatora, to resonate with that frequency of blue, there, feeling out the fresh start and air in the early morning Shibuya. It was supposed to remind him of the night he had before with his friends, not the people who lived there on the daily, making sense of the maps they would have created in their mind, living without thinking and waiting for the times there would be less people.

Yatora, unafraid to show his emotions. Yatora, who will do anything for his friends. Yatora, who stays up all night to please his parents with his grades. Yatora, who has no idea why this blue is so important to him.

It's a week later that he realizes why. The time that passed feeling out his brain, joining the art club and finding his time with the other artists, waiting for who will let him realize why that blue awakened him. But maybe that is exactly why that blue found him, why he was there at that moment, why he was so attracted to the idea of the art behind that completely artistic moment. Because maybe it isn't so that the artist chooses the art, but simply the soul that finds its own way to make their own art out of everything.

And so it resonated with him. The air is heavy, lays over him like a blanket over a sickly person. There, in the art room, making a dessin with every member of the club, looking to the side, and there seeing Mori. Concentrated. As If nothing else mattered but this art, the only thing that actually would have any impact would be how good the art is. Nothing else.

And then it clicked. It wasn't the art that had to be good, it had to be the person. If the only thing that resonated was the artist and the art, that would be enough. It didn't have to be good, it had to be what they thought was necessary for them to follow up and find the next piece.

So why did this imagery resonate? Why was Mori so important to him here, was it because she showed him what art could be, and what it was to him, or was it that the only thing he didn't understand about art was exactly what she was trying to portray? Yatora couldn't wrap his head around it, couldn't find any meaning behind why he felt like his soul was supposed to find this moment. Maybe it had to do with the soul's polarization, or some kind of magnetization.

He couldn't shake the expression on his face, his eyes unable to focus on his own art. Maybe it wasn't important at all, but it had made an impact on him. That was the only thing that mattered in that moment. It felt like he was tapping into some kind of frequency, feeling what the artist felt when they were making it, even if that was the literal current moment. So much of that was dependent on how well he was able to feel out what the artist saw. Because he saw it so easily. The feeling in his back, the pain faded, his eyes that hadn't been able to focus in the last five minutes seemed to pay no attention to anything other than what was happening between Mori and the art she was so focused on, it had to be more important than what he was making.