Overcoming Adversity

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With her left hand Umeko pulled out her pencil from the front pocket of her bag, she could feel the dull sting from her right hand despite it not doing anything. Frankly speaking, Umeko was reluctant to even hold the pencil at this rate. Why now of all times? Umeko closed her eyes and took a deep breath to both calm her nerves and clear her mind.

There were plenty of different ideas that floated around in her head but none of them seemed to quite fit. It didn't speak to her. Maybe a half face portrait, zoomed right into the eyes? No, that's not it. She furrowed her eyebrows as she urged herself to focus.

"What is my goal?" She mumbled quietly to herself. "What is my obstacle?" She took a deep breath and let all the distractions fade into the background. The only sound that she could hear was her own slow breathing and heartbeat. Perhaps a person...with a lion silhouette beside them? That was closer than her last idea, but it wasn't quite there yet. That idea fell closer to inner strength and that was not what she needed.

"A silhouette of a lone person..." She began her quiet muttering as she tried to put the pieces together. "The background is the overwhelming force they are facing." Her eyes snapped open. That's it! Umeko placed the pencil in her right hand and winced at the effort as had to put in to curl her fingers around it. The pain in her hand tingled and slowly increased with every movement she made. The pencil was uncomfortable to keep hold of, but she refused to let go. Umeko needed to start sketching out her draft if she wanted enough time to start painting. Unexpected strength against all odds.... What a strangely fitting topic for this predicament.

- ----ONE AND A HALF HOURS LATER-----

Umeko sighed in relief once she finally finished drawing her sketch. The canvas was much larger than she originally thought it was, she took a moment to look at the canvas as a whole. She had chosen to go with a fantastical world where the 'overwhelming odds' were represented as a singular large dragon against the 'unexpected strength' of a single soldier who would otherwise have no chances of victory.

Umeko put her pencil down and flexed her trembling right hand. Through the whole drawing process, she had to grit her teeth and bear with the unpleasant pain. She opened her bag to look for her paint brushes, it took a few seconds of rummaging before panic settled in. Where are my brushes? Umeko was absolutely certain that she had packed them earlier in the week and brought them, there was no way she would forget them or take them out for that matter. However, if that was the case then what happened to the brushes?

Umeko looked around helplessly unsure of what to do, just before she looked down, she made eye contact with Mitsuki. Mitsuki gave her a quick wink paired with a sly smile before she turned back to her own work. Umeko didn't like to point fingers for no reason but she was almost one hundred percent certain that Mitsuki had done something.

- ----THIRTY MINUTES LATER-----

Umeko bit her bottom lip as she desperately tried to think of a solution to her problem. She didn't bring enough pencils to change the media of her artwork, she couldn't finger paint because her right hand still had some bandages around it, and she didn't have anything else to use. Her ears started to ring as a torrent of negative thoughts began to filter through her mind. What can I do? There is nothing to do... forget about a scholarship, I can't even turn in my work. Umeko felt her face heat up and her eyes water.

She looked through her bag again half ready to quit, just before she gave up, she noticed something in the outer back pocket of her bag. It was a pocket she rarely used because she would frequently forget she put anything in it. Hoping for the best but expecting the worst she pulled out the rectangular box.

Umeko's eyes widened. These are my watercolor pens?! How did they even get in here? I thought I left them on my desk. Umeko remembered Shirabu asking her about them and her strongly refusing to bring them. Did he slip them in when I wasn't looking? Before she could think too hard about what led to the pens being in the bag she moved on. There was no point in wasting time. She only had one hour left and an entire painting to finish.

There were a few main problems amongst all the others Umeko didn't want to look at. One, Umeko did not like watercolors. Two, she would need to redo her whole idea because watercolors just didn't have the same punch acrylics did. And three, she wasn't that great at using the pens. I knew I should have practiced. There was no point in lamenting over the past as she began erasing her previous drawing, she was on a time crunch and needed to be fast.

Once the canvas was completely empty, she wracked her brain searching for a different idea, any idea of what would work with both her watercolor pens and the theme. Unlike last time she was able to come up with a new idea fairly quickly. Ignoring the growing pain, she did the fastest pencil outline she had done in her life then picked up her brush tipped pen. What felt like a jolt of electricity bloomed in her hand which caused Umeko to drop the pen she was holding. It clattered to the ground which left a resounding echo through the room. It was far from the loudest sound made but its quiet spoke volumes. Umeko's chest felt constricted as the memories of the first day resurfaced. She remembered the sheer amount of times she had dropped her pencil and the hopelessness she felt. The frustration that was almost enough to break her if not for the help of her friends.

A familiar voice in her head cleared her thoughts. 'No matter how many times you have dropped your pencil you have always picked it back up'. Umeko felt the cold metal on her wrist from the bracelet. It's ok I can do this. She picked the watercolor pen back up, uncapped it and began to complete her drawing with a vigor and determination Umeko didn't know she still had.

Umeko's hand moved over the canvas as if it had a mind of its own. There was no need to actively think about where to put which colors. Odd as it may be, it was soothing. Her hand moved instinctively to the right spot building a new picture, one that she had only seen in her mind's eye. It took all she had to push back the unnecessary thoughts and despite the occasional sting, she felt at ease.

The painting finally began to take shape. The tone she chose was muted; the style reminiscent of Monet. Each stroke of her brush-nibbed pen had an almost smudging quality that rendered the image watery, like a reflection in a rippled pond. She had but a few mere minutes to add the finishing touches, but it was more than enough time.

"And stop! Students, please stop working. Time is up." The host appeared seemingly out of nowhere with a microphone in his hand. "All of you write down the name of your piece and sign your work, we will be bringing all your works to the exhibition hall for judging. After we have finished, we will open the hall for you and for the guests to enjoy." He smiled and pointed to the side exit door. "For now, you may do what you please, just be back in an hour."

Umeko did as told then packed up her stuff. She had decided that it was pointless to try and get her brushes back because Mitsuki would deny that she did anything at all. "Well, I did what I could." Umeko looked at her piece one more time before she walked out of the room. Despite everything that had happened she felt more than satisfied with her work. It was worth the pain, stress and almost tears.

"Umeko!"

Umeko looked up to the familiar voice and her eyes landed on two familiar faces. Shirabu gave her a small wave while Tendou practically jumped in place. She hastily tottered over to her friends with a smile. "You guys! You're here."

Ushijima appeared to her left holding a large paper bag in one hand and a small container in the other. "We wouldn't have left you behind." He handed her a small container; it was warm in Umeko's hands and judging from the smell she could guess what it was.

"How did it go?" Shirabu was the first to ask. Umeko looked a little more tired than what one would expect from an art competition. Though since he had never participated in one himself, he wasn't too sure if it was normal for a competitor to be tired to that extent.

"Well..."

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