[62.7] Cyrus POV: The Light Slowly Returns

[Disclaimer: This chapter includes mention of child neglect, death, suicidality, and violence.]

The memory abruptly cut out, and a new one took its place. In this memory, Reika was standing in front of a large painting of a bloody war. She blinked slowly as she stared at it in a daze. Her classmates all avoided her as she stared at the painting, whispering to each other as they watched her.

"She's so creepy, staring at a painting like that."

"I don't even think she's blinking."

"Stop. Did you forget about what happened to Ha-rin?"

They all went silent then turned to stare at Reika cautiously.

Reika glanced at them anxiously, then raised her finger to her lips to start chewing on it. I noticed several cuts on her fingers that were loosely covered in bandages. It was obvious that Reika was becoming more unraveled as the memories continued.

The classmates pushed each other, "L-Let's go to the next exhibit."

Reika waited for them to get far enough away before pulling away from the morbid painting. She slunk towards a tour group, hiding in the back to avoid detection. A woman in a blue uniform stood in front of the painting and explained, "This painting was created by XXXXX during his blue period. Does anyone know why it's called that?... No? Well, a blue period is what we call the time when this artist was filled with despair and melancholy which shows itself in his use of blue and blue-green shades."

The rest of the class didn't care about the description and continued to walk through the gallery. Reika, however, sat down on a bench, silently staring at the painting with tired eyes.

The tour guide explaining the piece realized her audience was gone, but noticed Reika staring at it with blank eyes. She sat beside Reika and leaned over, "Isn't this painting beautiful?"

"It's certainly better than anything I could ever do…"

She smiled in amusement, "How would you know until you tried?"

Reika scoffed, "Oh, please. This artist's painting is in a museum. I'm a complete nobody. Even if I were to try hard, my art would be worthless."

The guide thought for a moment before speaking in a low voice, "You know, most artists believe their works to be worthless. In most cases, it's only after their death do they become famous."

Reika finally glanced at her, "So?"

"So the life of an artist is a hard one. They pour their heart and soul into creating a piece that may or may not be seen by others. Every hardship that they face, they channel it into their work. By looking at their art, you can feel all the emotions they felt. You can feel the pain, the sorrow, the joy, and maybe even their hopes and dreams. Even though they have been dead for longer than they were living, their art pieces live on… Telling everyone their story that they themselves can no longer share."

Reika slowly turned back to that painting, staring at it as she listened intently.

The woman leaned over and whispered, "You should try painting sometime… It's very useful for relieving stress and anxiety. The things you want to say, but can't… You can always say with a paintbrush in hand!"

The woman stood up with a giggle and walked off to give her next tour.

As Reika stared at that painting, her eyes became more lively than they had before. She mumbled to herself, "Will it really… Help?"

I was thrown into the next memory.

A booming voice came from the darkness, "In first place… We have Reika Kang for her piece 'The Withering Flower'!"

Before the memory could appear, clapping filled the empty space. Only Reika was illuminated as she hopped past me, her once childish face now showing signs of maturity. She turned around to show off her award just as the memory started to appear. I was standing in the middle of chairs, each one with a person in it… However…

Reika's parents weren't in sight.

Reika seemed to notice this as well, but her smile didn't falter. After the ceremony concluded, she found a group of teens around her age and went to them.

They spoke to her with grins on their faces, "I told you that you would win!"

Another nodded, "No one else can match your skill. You will definitely get into the art program at XXXXX University!"

Reika blushed, "Y-You think so?"

Her friend nudged her playfully, "Duh! You should go home and show off your award… Once your parents see it, they'll surely let you apply."

"Maybe you're right… I will go and show them right away!"

Reika returned home, beaming at her award as she walked. When she arrived home, she was shocked to find her mother speaking to the portrait of her brother.

Reika's smile was replaced by irritation as she stomped over, "Um. Excuse me. Where were you!?"

"Reika. Not now. I'm speaking to your brother. Don't be rude."

Reika forcibly grabbed her mother's shoulder and forced her to face her, "Both your seat and fathers were empty!!! I was the only person there without parents!!! Do you understand how embarrassing that was?!"

Her mother blinked in irritation, "Where?"

"THE ART COMPETITION!"

Her mother turned back to the portrait, "Oh that silly thing? It's not like I missed anything important."

"Don't you care at all!?! I won an award!!! They are putting my artwork up at the library! THIS IS A BIG DEAL!"

Her mother scoffed, "A big deal? It's just a hobby! How can you give awards for hobbies!? Hmph! It's just like those stupid participation awards. They are completely meaningless. Now your test scores, that's a different story. Have you been studying for your University entrance exams?"

"YOU'RE NOT EVEN LISTENING TO ME!" Reika shouted until her face turned red, "I won an AWARD! Why didn't you come to the ceremony!?"

Her mother sneered back, "I did listen to you. I just don't understand why it's so important to you. You should be focused on your education. Next year you'll have to apply for University. You have to go to XXXXX University just like your brother did."

"ARE YOU SERIOUS!? I'm not my brother! I have my own life! And I've dedicated that life to my art! So why couldn't you have gone to my ceremony!? You always went to BaoBao's baseball games even though he was terrible at it!!! You at least owe it to me to show your support!"

Just as she spoke, her father entered the room looking exactly as if he was just now getting back from work. He put down his briefcase with a sigh, "What is it now?"

Reika spun around to glare at her father, "And let me guess- You were too busy working to come to my ceremony!?"

His eyes betrayed the exhaustion he felt as he spoke half-heartedly, "What ceremony?"

"Are you SERIOUS!?" Reika crumpled up the award in a fit of rage and threw it on the ground, "I HATE ALL OF YOU!"

She stomped into her room while her mother rolled her eyes, "That girl is such a problem. If she doesn't abandon this stupid hobby, she's going to be homeless… And you know I won't help her when it inevitably happens. That girl needs to learn to listen to me."

Just as the memory began to fade, I watched as her father silently bent down to pick up the award. He smoothed it out with the utmost care, staring at it with broken eyes. He then walked into his office and placed it on the shelf by his desk, smiling softly to himself before resuming his work.

I watched her father feeling conflicted, "Her father… Did he actually care?"

A cold voice answered me from the darkness, "If he did, he never showed it to me."

"Reika-" I turned around to face that cold voice but was greeted by another memory.