A Lost Creation

Gallery

Touya knew precisely nothing about art.
He knew he liked looking at paintings on occasion if he passed by a particularly well done one, or one with pretty enthralling colours, and sometimes a statue would catch his eye for a half-second.
Not that god-awful All Might statue that loomed over everyone in the center of Musutafu, though. He hated that with a passion.
He didn't know the ins and outs of mediums, techniques, or really understand just how paintings were supposed to have a meaning to them and make you feel things.

No painting had ever screamed any 'meanings' at him, and they rarely made him feel anything, either.
Apart from little Y/N's drawings.
Whenever he came back to Girans and saw more pieces of paper sprawled out across the old man's desk, it made him happy. Proud, maybe?
Especially when he looked over them and it's clear to see that this little kid had some kind of natural-born talent for drawing. Even the unfinished ones were better than anything Touya could attempt to draw as a grown man.

So when she asked to go to a gallery, Touya had to panic-text Giran asking where they could go. He didn't want to take her to any exhibitions that may make her uncomfortable. He knew it was common for nudity to be in paintings, and he wasn't certain he'd be entirely comfortable taking a kid to see that, never mind how Star would feel having a stranger take her to see such artworks. Kids her age were funny about stuff like that with parents, never mind unrelated guardians.

It wasn't the first time he'd approached Giran about how to support her with her talent, and it probably won't be the last, either.
The old man was nosy, and loved coddling Star, but when Touya actually needed him to come back to him with something related to the little one, he didn't respond.
Touya should have expected it, he was practically always yammering on that stupid phone of his, he absolutely would have been better off ringing the old fart.

Luckily, a quick Google search lands Touya in the place he is now, standing in front of a display that he finds pretty, but finding nothing of interest about the painting beyond that.
He's kind of just following the kid around, happy to just be enjoying the fact that she seemed to be enjoying herself.
She deserved a chance to find a little happiness, to enjoy life being a kid.
She hadn't really spoken too much about her past with him beyond what he'd forced out of her about her mother, and the odd comment here and there which made it sound like her mother kept less than favorable men for company, but everything he knew, and everything he had half-pieced together told him that she hadn't had much of a chance to just be a kid.

The gallery doesn't seem to be much of an opportunity to speak, to catch up on what she'd been doing while Shigaraki had him out on recruitment most nights, so as she wanders around with wide, innocent and excited eyes with Touya hooded, masked and wearing sunglasses as though he was some kind of security for her, he considers treating her to an ice cream after she was done here.
Only a few gasps of: 'look!', 'pretty...' and 'wow!' and replies of 'very nice, Star.', 'real cool, kid.' and 'you could do better.'
were exchanged between the two.

God, seeing how enthusiastic she was, and how happy she was to practically run from display to display, occasionally even skipping, despite the looks she received from the older and more distinguished patrons, really made Touya wish he knew a thing or two about all this art stuff.

He really wished that every time he swallowed his pride and reached out to Giran about how to help her with her drawings, how to encourage her, how to hype her up, that he understood the technicalities to the artwork that Giran tried explaining to him, as well as trying to remember all the tips and tricks that Giran had told him to pass onto her.
Maybe he was really better off just leaving all that stuff to the expert. Maybe Touya could find something he was good at too that they could enjoy together.

How little enthusiasm he has in comparison to her as she walks around the gallery in complete awe begins making him feel pretty shitty, and he begins feeling that familiar gnawing feeling in his wrists that came with the need for a cigarette.
He's about to ask her if she's happy to step outside with him for a bit so he can smoke, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his fingers toying with the lid of the carton of cigarettes there, when she suddenly halts in front of him, almost causing him to knock her over.

Touya grunts a little as his stomach collides with her back, silently praying there's no stray strands on his clothing that may get caught in the staples lining the skin there and yank on them painfully.

"Careful." He tries to warn quietly and carefully.

He often had to remind her to be careful. He wasn't weak by any stretch of the word, but he was annoyingly more fragile than he'd like to be, thanks to his ruined mess of a body.
And for a little kid with an issue with people touching her, she really was touch starved.
He would sometimes wake up with her in his bed, asleep, but with her knuckles ever so slightly grazing his arm or side. It was the same as when she was awake. If she was awake, and Touya had some free time to be around her, she'd always have her little leg pressed against his, her arm brushing against his, or her foot touching his.
He was still cautious about touching her, lest he spook her again like he had those couple times he'd raised his voice at her, although it was only a little louder than he'd speak to her usually.

God, that one flinch she'd given him had broken what was left of his heart.
He knew that flinch, because he had flinched like that before, too.

He hated his old man for making him so averse to loud voices, sudden rises in volume, and sudden movements.
But he wanted to kill whoever had done that to a little kid like Y/N, too.
No kid deserved fear like that from the people that are meant to protect them.

As always, whenever Touya opens the door to that part of his mind, he begins spiraling even more.
His mood is always so quick to sour, and feeling like he wasn't good at something, as well as the memory of his old man and what he did to him... what he did to his siblings... all threatened to send the control he managed to keep on his body temperature completely awry.

He really needed that cigarette.

But when he moves a little, and can see her face properly, little Star's eyes are glittering, her mouth wide in awe as she looks at the artwork on the wall.
It's adorable. Innocent. What you were meant to see kids look like when they saw something that amazed them. It wasn't often she got that awe-stricken look, so Touya desperately wanted to understand what it is about this display that had her so amazed.
Touya looks between her and the painting, trying to follow her eye line to spot where she was looking in particular, trying to figure out what it was that had entranced her so much about this one painting out of the whole gallery full of similar ones to it.

It takes him a while to pluck up the courage to actually ask her, what with the environment feeling an awful lot like a library, everyone speaking in hushed tones.
Touya struggles to keep his voice hushed, thanks to his ruined voicebox. Anything below a slight hushed voice would struggle to leave him, being able to whisper clearly was a rarity for him.
Environments like this were hard for him, he'd rather just stay silent than try to be quiet.

"What is it you like about this one, doll?" He asks, wishing he could reach out and pet her soft little cheek as she continues staring on at the painting. She wasn't too fond of touch anywhere that wasn't her head, it seemed like, and Touya wasn't about to push her boundaries.
His voice leaves him a little louder than he'd have liked, drawing a few glances in his direction.

He's glad he wore sunglasses and a face mask today, it made the stares a little less painful for him.
Instead of glaring at him and then doing a double take after seeing the damage he'd done to his body, it was just a quick sharp glare.

"The colours." She replies in a quiet hum, leaning towards Touya a little, her head just shy of bumping into his arm a little, but not tearing her eyes away from the painting.

Touya looks back at the painting.
It looked kind of like a mess of colors to him, really. A mess of black, purple and blue. It looked like it was meant to be some kind of tree silhouette, with maybe a galaxy background? Touya isn't too confident about it.

And then it finally hits him.
Black, purple and blue.
One of his eyebrows shoots up and he gives her a little glance, to see if she had done that on purpose.
She doesn't even register that he's looking at her, too busy admiring the random splashes of colour in front of her.