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"You know how to ruin a good statement," I grumbled.
"Part of my ego," he mumbled.
He reached out with caution, gently brushing Crimson's cheek with his finger.
"Sorry Crim, love. I'll make it right somehow. Just focus on healing," James encouraged softly.
He took a deep breath before he composed himself, moving away.
He turned to leave but paused, pulling a small envelope out of his hand and placed it on the counter.
"What's that?" I asked, watching him walk to the balcony door. James looked over his shoulder to meet my curious gaze.
"One thing that helps Crimson heal when it comes to anything is art. If something bothers her, she spends hours drawing out her pain and feelings.
With what happened, I don't think she's in the mindset to be near paint equipment, especially the sharp stuff," James stressed.
He had a point.
The doctor already told us to keep a very close eye on Crimson, especially in the early stages.
"Staring at art will calm her down. I didn't get the privilege to take her to art galleries. She usually ended up going by herself. There's a famous art museum here. The envelope holds close to the amount to book the entire place out. You and your pals can pitch in a few Yen, so you can tell Crim you all pitched in," James suggested.
"Why..." I trailed off when he looked away, opening the door.
"The only reason Crim doesn't go to art galleries often is because the sound of people chatting always bothers her. No one is peaceful there, and it ruins her concentration. At least if it's booked, she'll be able to appreciate the artwork in peace. If I can...I'll check back again...but if not...well, the next time we see one another will be on opposite teams," James declared.
He glanced over his shoulder with a sad smile.
"I'll always love Crimson. Even if I'll be perceived as the bad guy. It's something I've accepted and will take to my grave. Just make her happy for me. That's all that matters. Sayonara, Akihiro."
I watched him exit the balcony, closing it quietly behind him.
With a last glimpse of his jacket, he was gone.
I sighed, looking at the envelope of money, and reaching out to pick it up.
I opened the flap and quickly scanned the amount and huffed.
"Contribute my ass. It's only missing 60 Yen. Not even 60 cents in American money. Jeez."
I placed the envelope down, looking at Crimson who hadn't even stirred.
You’ll get through this, Crimson. I know you will. I just hope I can do my part to help you heal.
CHAPTER17
Museum Of Healing
~CRIMSON~
"Crimson."
I stared at the artwork before me, the floor-to-ceiling
masterpiece pulling me in. The use of water paint was magnificent, and the artist was careful to make sure the colors that blended complimented each other.
The image of colors made up a woman. She wore a long kimono that dragged along the floor, and her black hair blew in the wind, the long strands fading away into little petals.
