The Painter's Blood

A Matter of Tone

Painting had always come naturally to Genos. He didn't usually think about colours as much as he thought of shapes; the arc of a rabbit's jump, the flow of a fish's fins as it swims, the shimmer of a snake's scales as it slithers by. Now that he had to actually focus on colours, he found it to be a bit troublesome. The next duplicate came out a shade or two darker than Saitama, and the one after that was a bit too light.
Although Saitama wasn't the most patient man, he didn't seem frustrated with Genos' failures; if anything, the constant need for observation was what annoyed him the most.
Genos closed his eyes in frustration, leaning against the smooth stone walls of the hallway. He let his mind wander, his fingers moving absently. He wasn't sure how to properly create a perfect duplicate. It was a lot harder than creating something on a whim, as he usually did. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't hear footsteps approaching.
"Oh? What is that supposed to be then?" Someone asked. He opened his eyes to see a man with brown hair and spectacles, his clothes covered in fine hairs. Genos hadn't seen much of the palace or it's residents, what with how time consuming following the Count around could be.
He glanced at the painting between his hands, humming softly. "I don't really know. I wasn't paying attention."
The man sat in front of him as if the floor wasn't uncomfortable at all, smiling and holding out a hand. "I'm Mumen. I work here taking care of the horses."
Genos took his hand and shook it, his recent creation spreading a set of wings and flying around them. Tiny flecks of brown and green paint landed on their faces, although Mumen didn't seem to mind. "So you work in the stable? I'm here to paint."
"Oh, everyone around here knows who you are. I mean, you can't just follow someone like Saitama around and not get attention." Mumen said, his eyes following the paint creature as it made loops in the air. "It looks like a bug, I think. A mix between a mantis and a butterfly and... A spider, maybe? It looks pretty agitated."
"A spider isn't a bug." Genos corrected, although it was more out of habit than anything else. "And it is agitated. I haven't been able to perfect what has been requested of me, and my feelings leak into my works."
Mumen hummed and reached for Genos' hands, looking up for permission before holding them in his own. "Just relax. I'm sure it'll be fine in the end. Is there anything you're forgetting to do when you paint?"
"The colours are wrong sometimes. If I could look at Saitama and paint at the same time, perhaps it would be easier... But then the shape will be all wrong, I'm sure." Genos said, his gears ticking faster as he grew a bit more frustrated. "I can't think of a way to fix this problem..."
"Here, just close your eyes and focus on the colour of my hands." Mumen said, and Genos hesitantly did as he was told. "Now just think of what you feel. Shape what your hands see."
Mumen ran a hand across one of Genos', Genos' free hand beginning to shape the fingers; the palm, the back of the hand, the jagged end of a scar just above the wrist. All the while, he focused on making the proper colour. Mumen's hands were slightly tanned, dirt and horse hairs here and there.
"You're doing great." Mumen said encouragingly. He looked up to see that they had an audience. Saitama was standing a little way behind them, watching in interest. Mumen gasped and pulled his hand away from Genos, standing quickly.
Genos' eyes snapped open and he looked up, wondering what had happened. A painted hand drummed it's fingers on the air in front of it.
"Um, I meant to see you right away, but he looked a bit upset-" Mumen began, then shut his mouth when Saitama raised a hand for silence.
"It's no problem. You could've just said you were helping to begin with." Saitama said. The muddy brown creation flew from its perch on a windowsill, circling Saitama a few times. "So you were working on shading, right?"
Genos nodded and stood, the hand rising in the air to follow him. "Do you think it would be possible to work on you one piece at a time?"
Saitama hummed in thought, then shrugged. "If you think that it'll help. Can you put all of the pieces together though?"
Genos nodded, clenching his fist. He grinned, obviously excited. "Yes! This will make things so much easier! You won't mind me using the same technique I used with Mumen, right?"
Saitama wasn't sure what that technique was. He hadn't been watching for very long, so he shrugged and nodded without asking. It couldn't be too bad, right?

"No way." Saitama said plainly, causing Genos to frown.
"But you said-" Genos began, only to be cut off.
"You want to feel my hand while you paint? Go ahead. My arm? Shoulder? Chest? Sure thing. But no way am I letting you feel my head. I mean, what is there to feel anyways?!"
"But I need to get a proper size or it could look like a melon! Also, I need to get your facial features right as well." Genos said, practically begging. He was very determined to make a perfect duplicate, and he didn't want something as small as an insecurity to get in his way. "If it makes it any better, I'll let you feel my face too."
"What?! That doesn't make it any better at all." Saitama groaned and lay upside down on his throne, his legs propped up against the back of the chair. "Isn't there another way?"
Genos considered this question for a bit. "There is, but it would probably take a few months for me to get it right."
Saitama closed his eyes, and for a moment Genos thought that he had fallen asleep. Then he opened his eyes and nodded shortly. "I suppose it's the only option then."

Genos tried his best to be gentle as his hand traced the features of Saitama's face. Every once in a while, he'd open his eyes to check the shading. It took a lot longer to do than a hand, and Genos thought that perhaps it took too long altogether. In the end, the painted head was very similar. It maintained a blank expression for the most part, but there was something off about the way it looked that Genos couldn't identify. His gears sped up in frustration and he looked over at Saitama apologetically. "I thought for sure that this would work. Heads are so much more complex than hands!"
"Oh well. You did your best, right? And no one got hurt or anything, so it's fine." Saitama said, waving his apology away. "We'll try again tomorrow. Let me know if you have any brilliant ideas overnight, okay?"
Genos nodded, although he felt as if he'd completely failed already.

//1199 words. Yay!
//don't you just loooove it when writers are super late like this?!?!?