Post by sgamer82 on Jul 9, 2018 0:54:53 GMT
In Kobayashi-sensei's art class, Ai Haibara has trouble deciding on the subject for her portrait.
Word Count: 1592
Ai Haibara and Conan Edogawa had very different opinions on the subject of art class. Neither was especially artistically inclined. Indeed, despite being in a first grade elementary school class, where the mediums were more often than not crayons, watercolors, and fingerpaints, Haibara could identify several students whose creativity and artistic talent exceeded her own. It was one of the very few areas where the two of them being high school age did not confer any inherent advantages.
To the boy who had once been Shinichi Kudo, this was very frustrating. He was generally used to being one of the best at most things he did, so being shown up by people whose biggest challenge involved staying inside the lines grated on his competitive side in the worst way. As a result, art came in a close second to music as his least favorite class.
In contrast, and for essentially the same reasons, art class had become one of Haibara's favorites. She wasn't nearly so concerned about being the best. She'd been the best; at least in her own areas of expertise. She liked the fact that, for once, she wasn't automatically better than everyone around her. It was one of the rare times she didn't have to dumb herself down to avoid unwanted attention. She could actually put real effort into her work, if she wished.
Which made it all the more aggravating that she had spent the last five minutes staring at a blank piece of paper.
The assignment wasn't even particularly difficult.
"Paint a picture of a family member," Sumiko Kobayashi had said. A picture the kids would be happy to show off to them.
With that the project should have been straightforward. Yet every time she lifted her brush to begin painting a portrait of Professor Hiroshi Agasa, Haibara hesitated. It was a simple enough task, it's not like she didn't see the man on a daily basis. She even wondered if the paper would be big enough.
More frustrating was Haibara knew exactly what the block was. She just couldn't do anything about it, as much as she would have liked to.
True to form, her seatmate eventually just had to chime in.
"Just do it already," Shinichi Kudo whispered as he worked on a painting Haibara could only assume was intended to be Ran Mouri because of the laws of probability.
"Do what?" Haibara asked, hoping in a fit of optimism that he hadn't already worked it out.
"If you were just going to paint the Professor, you would have started by now," he replied without looking up from his paper. Then he grinned. "Probably asked Kobayashi-sensei for a bigger piece of paper for authenticity." He looked to at her. "We both know who you want to really paint a portrait of, so what's stopping you?"
"Survival instinct?" Haibara shot back. It was all well and good for him to paint a picture of Ran. There was no issue if they were linked together.
"If anyone realizes who either of us are based on a first grader's fingerpaints-"
"Watercolors."
"Alliteration." Kudo scowled. "Anyone who could identify you because of an elementary school art project would already be close enough that we'd be doomed, anyway."
Haibara frowned. This wasn't the first time Kudo had decried her caution, or paranoia as he preferred to call it, regarding the Organization. By now they knew of agents in places ranging from local coffee shops to Broadway. Why not the school system?
"It wouldn't be allowed, anyway," Haibara said.
"Sensei's instructions were to make a picture we'd want to show our family member," Kudo told her.
"Which I couldn't do if I followed your advice," Haibara hissed.
"Haibara-"
"Why do you even care?!"
Everything went silent. Too late Haibara realized that, while she hadn't quite shouted, she also had not whispered the last part. The shadow of Kobayashi loomed over the two of them.
"Is everything all right over here?" she asked.
"Fine," Haibara said.
Kobayashi's eyes narrowed.
"I was trying to help give Haibara an idea of who to paint," Kudo said.
"Unwanted help," Haibara muttered.
"Haibara-san," Kobayashi's voice carried a warning tone as she said Haibara's name. She looked down at the still blank paper.
"Not painting the Professor?" she asked in a normal tone.
Haibara didn't answer.
"Haibara-san?" she tried again.
"She thinks she can't paint the person she wants to," Kudo said in his far-too-chipper child's tone.
Haibara shot him a glare. When she looked back to Kobayashi, she was looking at Haibara with a compassionate look in her eyes.
Damn you, Kudo-kun... Haibara thought.
"Why do you think that, Haibara-san?" she asked gently. Kudo was about to speak for Haibara again, but a raised hand from their teacher stopped him.
"She'd never be able to see it," Haibara said simply. "So it's against the assignment."
If Haibara had hoped appealing to the teacher's own directions would work, she was sorely mistaken as instead Kobayashi's expression changed. It went from disciplinarian to concerned. However, all she said was "I see."
Kobayashi stepped away from Haibara and Kudo and called the class to get their attention.
"Class," she said. "I'm noticing a few of you have had trouble getting started, and have realized I might not have been clear about my directions earlier."
The children looked at her, confused.
"I said that you had to paint a picture you'd be proud to show your family. How many of you took that to mean you had to show it to the person you painted?"
A few hands went up. Haibara's wasn't among them, but Kobayashi glanced at her anyway.
"I thought so." Kobayashi nodded. "In that case, let me remind you that my exact words were 'a picture you'd be proud to show your family'. It's all right to make your picture of someone who won't be able to see it right away, or even at all."
"Like if my dad's away working?" a boy asked.
"Exactly," Kobayashi said. "Or a big brother or sister away at college, or maybe a grandparent or other relative who's passed away."
Haibara saw Kobayashi glance at her again. Haibara frowned. The woman was no fool. She had clearly gleaned what Haibara meant earlier and had now just updated the assignment to accommodate her.
"Art is about expressing yourself," Kobayashi said. "If there's someone special in your heart that you want to paint, that's who you should paint. Understood?"
The children chorused a "Yes, sensei". Haibara turned and noticed a few who looked especially eager now. Perhaps Kobayashi wasn't doing this just for her.
"Well?" Haibara heard Kudo whisper as he resumed his own painting.
"Well what?" Haibara whispered back.
"You are now officially out of excuses."
Haibara wanted to scream at him, Kobayashi be damned. Yet, at the same time...
...was it really okay?
"Shiho, what is this?"
"I... I drew it..."
"Your pencils are not toys. If you have time to goof around with this nonsense you have time to study."
Time and time again she heard those words, or something close to them, from teachers and tutors who cared more for their student's intellect than her heart. Who didn't understand...
...but Kobayashi had understood. She'd understood immediately. She'd given her permission. It was all right.
She grabbed her paintbrush.
"Why?" she asked Kudo as she picked out a color. "Why did-"
"Because you don't have any pictures of your own," he replied. "I can see Ran pretty much anytime I want. You can't... you don't have so much as a photo to remember with."
"I don't need-"
"But you'd like one, wouldn't you?" he interrupted. "Or something close? They took so much away from us, Haibara. You, especially. Don't give them the satisfaction of keeping you away from any more than you can help."
They painted in silence for a minute before Haibara spoke again.
"I hope you're not expecting any 'thank yous'," Haibara whispered as she washed her brush.
"From you?" Kudo whispered. "Perish the thought."
She could hear the grin in his voice.
By the end of the lesson, everyone had finished their paintings. Haibara, having been last to start, was also last to finish, painting the last few black lines for the bangs as Kobayashi was calling an end to the class. Haibara would later wonder if Kobayashi had held off as long as she could to give her stragglers more time.
She looked at her work. It wasn't stellar. The face was blobbier than she remembered, the hair was just a black mess with lines on the face. It absolutely looked like the work of a seven year-old. In fact, as she glanced at some of the paintings her classmates had done, she wondered if she should downgrade that assessment to four or five year-old. She hated to admit it, but Kudo was probably right. Anyone who could identify them because of this would already know who they were.
I suppose there really is no point in worrying...
The Detective Boys came to Haibara immediately after hanging their paintings to dry. After some assurances that, no, she was not in trouble with the teacher, they looked at her painting and immediately the curiosity began.
"Who is she, Haibara-san?" Mitsuhiko Tsuburaya asked.
"She's pretty," Ayumi Yoshida had remarked.
"Is that your mom?" Genta Kojima asked.
Haibara smiled. Ordinarily such persistence annoyed her. Today, it did not. Today, she was in a good mood. Today, she could answer the childrens' constant questions with the truth.
"That's my Onee-chan."
So, who can spot the utterly terrible pun I used in the title?
Word Count: 1592
Ai Haibara and Conan Edogawa had very different opinions on the subject of art class. Neither was especially artistically inclined. Indeed, despite being in a first grade elementary school class, where the mediums were more often than not crayons, watercolors, and fingerpaints, Haibara could identify several students whose creativity and artistic talent exceeded her own. It was one of the very few areas where the two of them being high school age did not confer any inherent advantages.
To the boy who had once been Shinichi Kudo, this was very frustrating. He was generally used to being one of the best at most things he did, so being shown up by people whose biggest challenge involved staying inside the lines grated on his competitive side in the worst way. As a result, art came in a close second to music as his least favorite class.
In contrast, and for essentially the same reasons, art class had become one of Haibara's favorites. She wasn't nearly so concerned about being the best. She'd been the best; at least in her own areas of expertise. She liked the fact that, for once, she wasn't automatically better than everyone around her. It was one of the rare times she didn't have to dumb herself down to avoid unwanted attention. She could actually put real effort into her work, if she wished.
Which made it all the more aggravating that she had spent the last five minutes staring at a blank piece of paper.
The assignment wasn't even particularly difficult.
"Paint a picture of a family member," Sumiko Kobayashi had said. A picture the kids would be happy to show off to them.
With that the project should have been straightforward. Yet every time she lifted her brush to begin painting a portrait of Professor Hiroshi Agasa, Haibara hesitated. It was a simple enough task, it's not like she didn't see the man on a daily basis. She even wondered if the paper would be big enough.
More frustrating was Haibara knew exactly what the block was. She just couldn't do anything about it, as much as she would have liked to.
True to form, her seatmate eventually just had to chime in.
"Just do it already," Shinichi Kudo whispered as he worked on a painting Haibara could only assume was intended to be Ran Mouri because of the laws of probability.
"Do what?" Haibara asked, hoping in a fit of optimism that he hadn't already worked it out.
"If you were just going to paint the Professor, you would have started by now," he replied without looking up from his paper. Then he grinned. "Probably asked Kobayashi-sensei for a bigger piece of paper for authenticity." He looked to at her. "We both know who you want to really paint a portrait of, so what's stopping you?"
"Survival instinct?" Haibara shot back. It was all well and good for him to paint a picture of Ran. There was no issue if they were linked together.
"If anyone realizes who either of us are based on a first grader's fingerpaints-"
"Watercolors."
"Alliteration." Kudo scowled. "Anyone who could identify you because of an elementary school art project would already be close enough that we'd be doomed, anyway."
Haibara frowned. This wasn't the first time Kudo had decried her caution, or paranoia as he preferred to call it, regarding the Organization. By now they knew of agents in places ranging from local coffee shops to Broadway. Why not the school system?
"It wouldn't be allowed, anyway," Haibara said.
"Sensei's instructions were to make a picture we'd want to show our family member," Kudo told her.
"Which I couldn't do if I followed your advice," Haibara hissed.
"Haibara-"
"Why do you even care?!"
Everything went silent. Too late Haibara realized that, while she hadn't quite shouted, she also had not whispered the last part. The shadow of Kobayashi loomed over the two of them.
"Is everything all right over here?" she asked.
"Fine," Haibara said.
Kobayashi's eyes narrowed.
"I was trying to help give Haibara an idea of who to paint," Kudo said.
"Unwanted help," Haibara muttered.
"Haibara-san," Kobayashi's voice carried a warning tone as she said Haibara's name. She looked down at the still blank paper.
"Not painting the Professor?" she asked in a normal tone.
Haibara didn't answer.
"Haibara-san?" she tried again.
"She thinks she can't paint the person she wants to," Kudo said in his far-too-chipper child's tone.
Haibara shot him a glare. When she looked back to Kobayashi, she was looking at Haibara with a compassionate look in her eyes.
Damn you, Kudo-kun... Haibara thought.
"Why do you think that, Haibara-san?" she asked gently. Kudo was about to speak for Haibara again, but a raised hand from their teacher stopped him.
"She'd never be able to see it," Haibara said simply. "So it's against the assignment."
If Haibara had hoped appealing to the teacher's own directions would work, she was sorely mistaken as instead Kobayashi's expression changed. It went from disciplinarian to concerned. However, all she said was "I see."
Kobayashi stepped away from Haibara and Kudo and called the class to get their attention.
"Class," she said. "I'm noticing a few of you have had trouble getting started, and have realized I might not have been clear about my directions earlier."
The children looked at her, confused.
"I said that you had to paint a picture you'd be proud to show your family. How many of you took that to mean you had to show it to the person you painted?"
A few hands went up. Haibara's wasn't among them, but Kobayashi glanced at her anyway.
"I thought so." Kobayashi nodded. "In that case, let me remind you that my exact words were 'a picture you'd be proud to show your family'. It's all right to make your picture of someone who won't be able to see it right away, or even at all."
"Like if my dad's away working?" a boy asked.
"Exactly," Kobayashi said. "Or a big brother or sister away at college, or maybe a grandparent or other relative who's passed away."
Haibara saw Kobayashi glance at her again. Haibara frowned. The woman was no fool. She had clearly gleaned what Haibara meant earlier and had now just updated the assignment to accommodate her.
"Art is about expressing yourself," Kobayashi said. "If there's someone special in your heart that you want to paint, that's who you should paint. Understood?"
The children chorused a "Yes, sensei". Haibara turned and noticed a few who looked especially eager now. Perhaps Kobayashi wasn't doing this just for her.
"Well?" Haibara heard Kudo whisper as he resumed his own painting.
"Well what?" Haibara whispered back.
"You are now officially out of excuses."
Haibara wanted to scream at him, Kobayashi be damned. Yet, at the same time...
...was it really okay?
"Shiho, what is this?"
"I... I drew it..."
"Your pencils are not toys. If you have time to goof around with this nonsense you have time to study."
Time and time again she heard those words, or something close to them, from teachers and tutors who cared more for their student's intellect than her heart. Who didn't understand...
...but Kobayashi had understood. She'd understood immediately. She'd given her permission. It was all right.
She grabbed her paintbrush.
"Why?" she asked Kudo as she picked out a color. "Why did-"
"Because you don't have any pictures of your own," he replied. "I can see Ran pretty much anytime I want. You can't... you don't have so much as a photo to remember with."
"I don't need-"
"But you'd like one, wouldn't you?" he interrupted. "Or something close? They took so much away from us, Haibara. You, especially. Don't give them the satisfaction of keeping you away from any more than you can help."
They painted in silence for a minute before Haibara spoke again.
"I hope you're not expecting any 'thank yous'," Haibara whispered as she washed her brush.
"From you?" Kudo whispered. "Perish the thought."
She could hear the grin in his voice.
By the end of the lesson, everyone had finished their paintings. Haibara, having been last to start, was also last to finish, painting the last few black lines for the bangs as Kobayashi was calling an end to the class. Haibara would later wonder if Kobayashi had held off as long as she could to give her stragglers more time.
She looked at her work. It wasn't stellar. The face was blobbier than she remembered, the hair was just a black mess with lines on the face. It absolutely looked like the work of a seven year-old. In fact, as she glanced at some of the paintings her classmates had done, she wondered if she should downgrade that assessment to four or five year-old. She hated to admit it, but Kudo was probably right. Anyone who could identify them because of this would already know who they were.
I suppose there really is no point in worrying...
The Detective Boys came to Haibara immediately after hanging their paintings to dry. After some assurances that, no, she was not in trouble with the teacher, they looked at her painting and immediately the curiosity began.
"Who is she, Haibara-san?" Mitsuhiko Tsuburaya asked.
"She's pretty," Ayumi Yoshida had remarked.
"Is that your mom?" Genta Kojima asked.
Haibara smiled. Ordinarily such persistence annoyed her. Today, it did not. Today, she was in a good mood. Today, she could answer the childrens' constant questions with the truth.
"That's my Onee-chan."
So, who can spot the utterly terrible pun I used in the title?