tampered | [IN PROGRESS.LOCKED] |Sai&Sakura|

[IN PROGRESS.LOCKED] |Sai&Sakura| - Art.

When; October 31 (WAY WAY WAY BACKDATED, because muns have been busy but decided that this was necessary anyway)
Rating; PG for now?
Characters; Sakura Haruno

betterthanthen, Sai

artist_untitled
Summary; Sakura plans to go as a geisha to the Halloween Ball. Geishas recquire their skin to be painted white. Lucky for her, Sai's willing to help.
A/N; So backdated it's not even funny anymore. This is more for the muns' own personal entertainment than anything else, and because we've been really busy and have had to postpone it for a while. Nothing major happens aside from...bodypainting. ~~Which is hot, but anyway.~~
Log;

It was early in the morning when Sakura climbed the stairs to Sai's apartment. Armed with breakfast--cinnamon rolls--and her kimono--which was also her costume--the young girl ascended the stairs to her teammate's flat with the laziness of someone who still had time to waste. The ball wouldn't start until later that evening, but she thought that painting her body with that much make up might take long enough, so better be early than late.

When she arrived, she knocked on his door--a change from using the windows all the time--and waited. Also a change.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sai did not leave her waiting for long, a distinct noise of an easle being knocked over audible even though the door. Few seconds later, he opened the door, hair ruffled and shirt still awry, barefoot and looking vaguely sleepy.

"You're, ah... early."

Her eyes widened slightly upon discovering that even Sai had something as mundane as bedhair. She smiled slightly upon the sight, and then raised the bag in her hand. "I know, sorry? I thought if I came early I wouldn't bother you later, when you were busy with your own...and, I brought breakfast."

Well-aware of what he must be looking like, his gloveless hand reached up into his hair as he attempted an early-morning smile.

"Come in. I'll make coffee."

"Sorry I woke you up," she murmured, stepping into the apartment. A guilt trip was coming on, if Sai had indeed been sleeping when she knocked at his door. She knew he probably rested even less than he ate, which wasn't good. And then she goes and wakes him up early.

Frowning slightly, she placed the buns in the microwave to heat them up, and left her wrapped-up kimono on the small sofa. "Need help?" she asked, looking quite uncomfortable.

"Does it require two persons to boil water?" His question sounded more mildly curious than sarcastic. Sai blinked slowly, then turned aware from the water kettle, shuffling over into the living room. Which was really more of an arts and crafts studio with a couch and coffee desk to the side.

Once there, he started to rearrange the knocked over easel. The drawing residing on it, once the beginning of a still life, was stained with ink, as was the floor below.

"No, I guess not," she answered, following him to the living room. Curious eyes looked about, wondering where she'd have to sit, or which paint he would use, or if it'd be really, really uncomfortable. Or not.

Noting the mess on the floor, she went over there, and picked up the scroll, once a painting. "How did it get ruined?" she asked, tilting her head slightly, her lips pursed as she tried to figure out heads and tails of the drawing.

"Just now. It fell over with the easel and an ink bottle."

His fingers touched to the ink splattered across the wooden floor, smearing it slightly as the hand retreated. "... Ah. Rather than falling over of its own volition, I.. ran into it."

From the way his eyes shifted to the side ever so slightly, or his pressed together lips, he may have looked vaguely embarrassed.

"Oh. Sorry." Somehow even that was her fault. If she hadn't turned up so early, he wouldn't have ruined the painting, in his rush to get to the door, and he wouldn't have knocked it over, because he wouldn't have been sleepy. "What was it of?" she asked.

The ding! of the microwave indicated that the buns were done, so she stepped back into the kitchen, hoping that he'd either follow or tell her his answer from the other room.

"You are not the one who threw it to the floor." Sai looked at her with an inscrutable expression before getting up, not quite getting ahold of the reason for her apology. "It was a chessboard, cards and cubes. But it did not turn out right, anyway."

Frowning, his thoughts seemed to linger on the drawing and how to improve it, now that he was going to start over again; he lifted his fingers to his chin and idly rubbed his jawline, not noticing how he smeared the ink over his face.

"Alright." She entered the living room again, armed with a tray holding the buns and two cups of coffee which she left on the table. Finally looking up at him, she couldn't help a smile at the dorkish look he had on his face. Almost human. Almost normal. For once, he looked like a normal kid, instead of a...statue.

"You have ink smeared," she said, stepping closer. Her anal way of being couldn't stop her from lifting her hand, and rubbing her thumb over the smear, to wipe it away. "Right here."

He looked quite out of it for a moment before looking down at his inked fingers, recognition clearing his expression before actually causing him to frown a little. "Ah..." And only then did he duly note the motherly face-wiping.

"... I probably need that cup of coffee more than I initially thought..."

"So do I," she murmured, lowering her hand and wiping her stained thumb on a napkin. She picked up one mug, and handed it to Sai, before taking a seat on the couch.

"So...how will you do this?"

Sai took the mug and settled a little too stiffly on the couch to be called casual; then again, he never really looked relaxed, or complacent, or content. It was something he seemed devoid of.

"I'll use white kabuki paste powder," He responded, now seeming all business even as he sipped his coffee. "It lasts longer than plain facial paint."

"Should I put the kimono on before, or after?" She drank her coffee at incredible speed, as if eager to just get down to business already. Plus, it was how she always took her coffee. In a rush, very black.

Next came a cinnamon bun, sweeter than the coffee. This one she enjoyed, leaning back into the couch, relaxed.

"After. Do you have anything in mind regarding what to do with your hair?"

Sai, as well, took the liberty to get ahold of one cinnamon bun, his coffee taken at a deliberate pace and apparently in between bites rather than separated from the food.

"I suppose I'll put it up in a typical bun. I brought the pins to do it now. I can do it while you finish breakfast?" she said, rummaging through her bags already, picking out four delicate looking pins, and an elaborated comb with the shape of a sakura blossom.

"... You're in such a rush," He pointed out with a meditative glance. "You are free to finish eating. We have time."

"The sooner we finish, the sooner you can take a nap, and I won't feel guilty for making you wake up this early," she explained, her fingers already manipulating her hair, pulling and tugging it up, arranging it into a bun. From all the things she'd been forced to learn by her mother, buns would be something she wouldn't forget.

"I am functioning on very little sleep. After I've had a cup of coffee or black tea, anyway. Duty requires it. There is no need to feel guilty."

He did not stop her from working on her hair, though, and continued his own breakfast in silence.

Three minutes later, she finally let her hands drop from her hair, the bun secured in place by pins and combs. A few of the shorter tendrils escaped and brushed over her neck, but she couldn't help that.

"You need to rest better. There is no duty here, you should take advantage." She picked another bun, and ate it slower this time, enjoying each bite.

"... I simply don't intend to get out of shape," He replied tentatively, before taking a large sip of his coffee. And then, "You look like you had experience with that hairdo."

"Ah, yeah. Sort of. My mother's very traditional and thought I should learn how to do my hair up in case she was not around to torture me herself," she answered, self-consciously touching the back of her neck to check if it held.

"I still say you need to rest more. I know I'm not doing it either, but I know I should. Personally I have no choice, but you're self-employed, so..."

"Of course you have a choice. You could resign any day." Sai found it necessary to point it out, more for correction's sake than in self-defense. "And I rather work than sleep as long as I find inspiration," He added.

"I'm needed at the hospital. It feels nice to be needed...even if by stranger." The times she'd thought about quitting, and the times she'd told herself that no. What would she do, if not work? Watch how her friends were happy with each other? Bother Sai daily with insistence that he eat better? Go shopping?

She snorted softly at that, refilling her coffee cup, and taking a sip. "I suppose I could understand the inspiration ordeal..." she continued. Her hand slid over the package in which her kimono was nicely folded. Her only kimono, a present from her shishou. She liked it. It was among the few things that were girly, and that she liked. The idea of being disguised as a geisha wasn't that bad, but she was slightly anxious about the make-up thing. "Will you...ah...use...brushes, right?"

"Yes." After downing the rest of his coffee, he got up from the couch and disappeared behind three more easels and a bookshelf. Once returned, he continued, "A broad brush for the white paint, and finer ones for your eyebrows, eyes and lips."

On a tray, he carried three differently sized brushes, one sponge, the kabuki oshiroi, a small bowl with water, rouge, two small glasses with what seemed to be liquid make up - black and red - and skin moisturizer.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject