༻ 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 ♔ 𝗢𝘀𝗮𝗦𝘂𝗻𝗮 ༺

2 // Sunarin

THE FIRST PAINTING SESSION STARTED not so long after breakfast. The sun peaked out of the clouds and gave a nice, subtle beam. The first painter was a local boy, not too far from the palace. He was in his early thirties and seemed a little too energetic for the morning. Atsumu didn't mind, though. Osamu did.

They were in a nearly-empty room. One one end of the room, the side was furnished with a fancy gold red velvet, though it was smaller than an actual throne. Osamu's father was sitting in the mini-throne. The other side of the room had a cream blue fainting sofa and matching lounge chair. Osamu's mother was seated in the lounge chair, reading a book. Osamu and Atsumu were sprawled out on the sofa. Atsumu was talking about his craving for a lychee slushy while Osamu was mindless scanning through a cookbook.

Eventually, Atsumu got bored and started chatting with the painter. Osamu overheard Atsumu call the painter 'painter number one". To Osamu's surprise, painter one happily chatted with Atsumu. Osamu couldn't imagine painting a portrait for the king while talking to his son. Especially if it was Atsumu.

After a little longer, painter one was finished. Osamu's father decided to criticize the painting without the painters in the room, so painter one said his farewells than got escorted back to a carriage.

The four of them stared at the painting in front of them. The canvas was not very big, not very small. Maybe the size of a market poster. Painter number one mainly used the acrylic paint and his color decisions were bold. Osamu didn't know much about painting, but he thought the portrait was pretty decent.

"The colors are popping." Atsumu said, breaking the silence of the room.

"It doesn't match the vibe of the palace. I can't imagine this in Father's office." Osamu stated.

"Mmm," Osamu's father agreed. "Doesn't really feel like me"

Atsumu slumped. "It's a shame. He was a cool dude."

"Well, it wasn't a bad start. I think this is a good start." Ma told them.

"The next one should be here in.." Osamu's father looked at his watch. "Seventeen minutes. Get used to this boys. This is what our schedule will be lookin' like for the next hours."

PRINCE AND PAINTER'S PLAY

Eight other of the painters finished their painting sessions. Most of them weren't too bad. Some of them Osamu actually kinda liked. There was this one old Italian guy, painter number five, who knew a lot about cooking. Osamu wanted to ask him too many questions but didn't have the guts to ask him. He might have disturbed him, anyway.

Osamu was starting to get bored of watching people paint his father. And he could tell Atsumu was too. Atsumu sighed dramatically, gloomy that he didn't like any of the painters enough for him to want them to paint him.

'What if no one's able to capture the beauty of my gorgeous face?' Atsumu complained after painter number seven.

Painter number ten's session was going to start soon. Two maids had already cleaned up the brushes and pallet and put a fresh canvas on the easel.

Osamu's ma was fixing her hair, her fingers running through her locks of dark-dark brown hair. His father was stretching and getting ready to sit in the chair again. Atsumu and Osamu were bickering on how steak should be cooked. Atsumu was a complete noob when it came to food.

The door suddenly opened, Sakusa entered the room, another man behind him. "Your Royal Highness, this is Suna Rintarou from the town, Aichira."

"Thank ya, Sakusa." Sakusa bowed then exited the room.

"Thank you so much for coming here, Suna-kun." Osamu's mother greeted.

"It's my pleasure, ma'am." Painter number ten said. Osamu was a little taken a back by the casual-ish title, but Ma didn't seem to mind. She didn't really care how people addressed her.

"Well let's get started now, hm?" Osamu's father said, a pinch a annoyance in his tone.

Painter number ten placed his sketch book on the ground next to him. He started to examine all the materials provided for him. Osamu watched him as he did so. He sat down on the stool and started to sketch with a graphite pencil. He didn't really say much so Osamu figured that he didn't want to interact much. Atsumu didn't seem to get the hint.

"So yer from Airichar, painter number ten?" Atsumu asked him stand next to him, slightly leaning towards to. "I don' think I've heard of that town before."

Painter number ten erased a line he just drew. "Aichira. It's pretty far from here and a small town. Kinda hidden from everything." His voice was soft and smooth. Osamu liked he sound of his voice.

Atsumu continued to interrogate painter number ten on some random things. Painter number ten had finished a base coat of paint by the time he finished answering Atsumu's sixth question Osamu noticed that this was the first painter Atsumu asked over eight questions.

Suddenly, Atsumu asked a different type of question, "What's yer name again, painter number ten?" Osamu knew this must have meant something.

"Suna Rintarou." He said while dipping a thick brush in chocolate colored paint.

"Hey 'Samu!" Atsumu called out to his twin. Osamu walked over to Atsumu.

"What?" Osamu asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What's a good nickname for Suna Rintarou?" Atsumu asked, pointing his head to Suna.

"Suna Rin-"

"Sunarin! Osamu sometimes yer a genius!"

Osamu was annoyed that Atsumu had cut him off, but the sound of 'Sunarin' sounded nice. Sunarin.

Atsumu looked at Ma. "Ma!" Their mother looked up from her book. "I want Sunarin to paint me!"

Their ma smiled. "That's womderful dear. I'm happy you finally found the perfect painter."

Atsumu smiled back at her. "Don't you wanna paint thr face of a goddess, Sunrin?" He said looking at him.

Suna hummed in response. "We'll see."