Misunderstood Vampire Bakasane-chan

I am good at drawing.

After all, when depicting what’s in front of me, I just replicate the scenery in my mind. In my past life, Hikaru had me draw panty shots for pixel art fighting game characters because of this ability. Even now, thinking back, it’s cringe-worthy.

So my grades in art are usually good. But creating something original, something truly artistic, that’s a challenge.

I was shocked when I learned that a painting, which looked like nothing but green and blue paint smeared together, could be worth enough to buy a dozen of our houses.

One summer in middle school, I tried imitating it for an exhibition using just two or three yellow and black paint tubes. But all I got from my art teacher and Misaki was a lecture about not submitting such prank drawings as homework. I thought I did a great job replicating the swirls and jumps – my interpretation of the golden ratio. But I guess it was a failure since I couldn’t mimic the soul of the original.

“Hmm… something’s not quite right.”

Despite the criticism, it’s not like my work never got any attention. The first time I missed the chance to have my painting in an exhibition, it caught someone’s eye, and I wondered what to do with it. I was startled by her high-pitched voice from above; Momo-senpai, a tall senior, saw my failed work and said:

“This is a masterpiece.”

I thought she must have had poor eyesight.

“Hey, Momo-senpai, can I move now? I’m getting stiff!”

“No, you can move a little, but please don’t change your pose. I’m almost done with the sketch.”

Momo-senpai is a somewhat aesthetically eccentric and tall lady, and I still get along well, and sometimes I do her these little favors.

But why did she suddenly want to immortalize me in a painting? She said recently that my charm has increased, but I, the cool Bakasane-chan, am always mesmerizing everyone, aren’t I?

She wants to paint me, which is fine, but why does she insist on sketching for so long when she could just use her smartphone camera? I’m not the kind of person who can stay still for long. I even hate red lights. I don’t like the color.

“It’s cruel to tell me not to move… I feel like doing a handstand now.”

“You’re still staying put, which means you’re a conscientious kid.”

“Just because I understand it would ruin Momo-senpaii’s observation if I turn away… Ugh, my cheeks are cramping…”

“Ha… you are a genius, Bakasane-chan…”

Momo-senpai made an obvious statement as I continued to smile and endure the pain for the sake of her artistic pursuit.

It’s something I haven’t heard much lately, but yes, I am a genius. Ever since kindergarten, everyone always said how smart I was.

But even with my super-intelligence, the concept of art remains elusive, especially when I see Momo-senpaii’s work.

“And with that, it’s done. Look, Bakasane-chan, you can move now.”

“Finally! Hey, Momo-senpai, can I see the result?”

“Sure, you can.”

With her permission, I crossed the room and peered into her sketchbook. This art room was deserted, almost a sacred space. Why?

It was all because of the paintings Momo-senpai created. I swallowed hard, forgetting to comment as I looked at her artwork.

“Wow… this is incredible…”

“Right? Instead of relying on Cubism, I tried to capture both the external and internal aspects on a single plane.”

“Such avant-garde flair…”

I don’t know what to call this painting. Its lines are excessively ornate, bordering on ostentatious, and utterly incomprehensible.

Frankly, it’s dark. Uncomfortably so. It’s hard to believe that such a malevolent-looking piece was drawn with love.

“Well, it seems a bit too white. Kasane-chan, you are more beautifully dark.”

“This is the first time I’m not pleased to be praised…”

I remember joking that sketching is like ‘etching.’ Not with Hikaru, but with some other boys. Hikaru’s tastes are deeper.

Such thoughts escape the blasphemous gleam of the graphite staining the sketchbook before me. Momo-senpai, having observed my horrified reaction, squints behind her unfashionable glasses, closes the sketchbook, and murmurs,

“Even so, this would fetch a good price.

“It’s really strange.”

Indeed, the artistic value of this painting is high. Yet it’s strange that such a heavily obscured piece would be so valuable.

This dark matter is highly regarded now. Looking closely, you can see multiple images emerge – or so some critics said.

Momo-senpaii’s paintings are so incredible that she could hold a solo exhibition in a museum in Boston, or so I heard. They’re so unbelievable that students in the art club flee barefoot and resign in awe.

“I’m more familiar with the opinions I see online…”

They say, is this even a painting?

I agree with these amateur opinions.

But these are in the minority. While only people like Hikaru should be excited about a collection of lines and dots, the world is enthralled by Momo-senpaii’s artistic sense.

“Sigh…”

I somewhat understand why the ill-mannered call her ‘Crazy Momo-senpai.’

Feeling somewhat defeated, I let my twin tails droop. Looking down at me, Momo-senpai takes something out of her breast pocket and offers it to me.

“Oh, right. I have a masterpiece here.”

“Eh? This is…”

What sits in her large palm, presented to me, is something red and slender, encapsulated in resin, jingling on a silver chain. Her color sense is still off. I rarely find her works appealing, but this seems beautiful.

“I wanted to gift you this as you are now.”

“Ah…”

And so, gentle fingers brushed through my hair.

Then, that ridiculous multimillion-dollar work by artist Momoyama Momo, a crimson cross, was hung around my neck.

“So, that old man with the straw hat mentioned Ikus’s name, huh?”

“Yeah. He said something like ‘you’re next,’ but since I didn’t know where Ikus lived, I told Hikaru since he seemed appropriate.”

“I see… Oh, Kasane-chan, you got this part wrong… And why are you using the answer from today’s math problem in the history date?”

“Oh, did I mess up? The answer spaces looked similar, so I got them mixed up!”

“Kasane-chan is… a genius in a way.”

“Hehe, that’s the second time today someone’s called me a genius! You think so, too, Hikaru?”

“Well, yeah, I guess…”

Back home and then off to a friend’s house on my bike, I beamed at Hikaru’s sincere praise. It felt better hearing it from Hikaru than from Momo-senpai. I have a different emotional attachment to him, and so do my well-developed muscles.

Puffing up my nonexistent chest, I didn’t let Hikaru’s distracted demeanor bother me as he said,

“Hmm… Still, I need to learn about that older man. Being a contractor doesn’t mean I’ve been involved with the vampire world for long, just less than a decade…”

“Wait, that old man was a vampire too?”

“Probably. Ikus comes from a good family, so our kind often targets her.”

“That sounds dangerous! But that old man didn’t seem like a bad guy, did he?”

Hearing that Ikus was in danger made me anxious, but the older man seemed kind. Working in customer service, I pride myself on being able to read people, which is why I pondered Hikaru’s response.

“Not every bad person does bad things, and not every good person is completely good… It’s always better to be cautious.”

“That’s kind of sad, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

I felt a little down.

Hikaru meant that even bad people have good sides, and good people have bad sides. It’s a simple truth but it also means you can’t fully trust anyone.

Hikaru looked at me with such sadness, then scratched his cheek and said,

“But, well. Yeah… um.”

“What’s up? You need to be clearer, Hikaru. Is it something embarrassing?”

“No! It’s not that. It’s just that I want to trust you, Kasane-chan.”

“Really?”

I wagged my two tails in joy. Wanting to trust someone when you feel you can’t trust others is a precious sentiment.

“I can’t give up being friends with Hikaru,” I thought secretly, as he added softly,

“So, I’ll take you to Ikus’s place. It’s not a good idea, but…”

“Wow, where does Ikus live? She seemed like a lady, so maybe a grand mansion or something…”

“Not really… she’s actually…”

Hesitating a bit, but then decisively, Hikaru revealed,

“…in my attic.”