Failed Calligraphy [Shadow King]

Morning was just a bad time for Steven Vaughn.

The teenager brought a pale hand up to shield his squinted eyes as he walked toward the sunrise, drawstring backpack slung over one shoulder and held in place with his other hand. His expression was set in its usual dissatisfied scowl, as if scorning that distant star for interrupting his night and forcing him out of bed. It wasn't even so much that he was a night person, either--not being able to see clearly due to darkness was annoying, too--but daylight meant he was obligated to get out of the house and do things that he honestly had no real desire to do.

Like go to school. He was seriously tossing around the idea of just skipping; he was already not where he was supposed to be thanks to an errand he had to run, and just given how bright it was out already he knew he was going to be late. Still, if he didn't show for class he couldn't stay after and be a tutor, and there went some of his pay. That was a biting thought, but he really, really didn't feel like expending actual effort today...

His dread was interrupted by the sight of something black and white tumbling out across the sidewalk in front of him. He stared blankly at it for a moment before registering that it was a crumpled piece of paper, then glanced over at where it seemed to have come from. He raised a brow at the girl sitting there, with the smear of ink on her cheek and poring over something or another.

"Drop something...?" he called over, casually reaching down to pick up the trashed paper and begin to unfurl it. If it was something she didn't want others to see, she shouldn't have thrown it out into the street.

He couldn't say her reaction was entirely unexpected.

Still, the shout hadn't startled Steven enough to prevent him from unfurling the paper, and he continued to do so as the girl floundered and begged him not to look.

"If it's something important, then you shouldn't toss it out onto the street where people can find it, y'know. Shred it or something." he retorted calmly, offering it out toward her. In doing so, he couldn't help but see the sloppily-written kanji and kana. He didn't think much of the poor quality, figuring the girl was still learning the strokes. As someone who lived in Little Tokyo, finding someone with an interest in the foreign language wasn't all that strange.

"Oh, what, are you learning Japanese or something...?" he questioned, retracting the paper to give it a closer look. "Don't see what you're so embarrassed about, but then again, I can't read it."

Steven raised an eyebrow at the kid's--he assumed kid; she looked about the same age as him--utterly defeated response, wondering what could've possibly caused her to be so self-conscious about some scribblings on a paper. Some people had bad handwriting; it wasn't something to whine about. At least she was putting forth the effort to try and change that; some people didn't even care enough to do that.

"Don't think what way about you?" he responded to the accusation, tone defensive but with a slight edge of aggression to it as well. "Kinda hypocritical to assume I'm judging you, isn't it? Means you judged that I'm a judgemental guy."

Still, he offered the paper back to her, the frown caused by her offense softening back into his usual scowl.

"You shouldn't be ashamed of the steps you take to reach a goal, y'know. People aren't just magically good at things, contrary to popular belief. Even the most talented, naturally gifted artist has to learn how to mix paints. The best calligrapher had to learn how to read and write before they could even think about putting a brush to paper."

Honestly, people got so caught up in the little details that they became their own worst enemies. So what if it wasn't perfect, the fact that she was even trying was a feat in and of itself. And hey, at least she could apparently afford the time to engage in hobbies she enjoyed without people riding her ass about the things she should've been doing.

"If you're not learning Japanese, then, what's it for?"

Steven merely watched as the kid's confidence crumpled, much like the paper that she'd thrown out. His expression was neutral, reflecting the fact that he wasn't entirely sure what he thought of her.

"I think you've got a severely flawed line of logic there if that's what you think." he commented at her self-shaming, placing a fist on his hip as he looked at her with an expression somewhere between disappointment and confusion. "Flipping what you just said around, you're basically saying that if you're not good at one thing, you're not good at anything. Using that logic... I'm not great at science. Does that mean I'm bad at everything else?"

He left a long pause for her to think about what he said and answer, but the question was mostly rhetorical.

"Sounds to me like you're trying to be perfect at something that you have an interest in. You do know perfection is literally impossible, right? You'll never be able to write and have it look just like that image you've got in your head. Just won't happen." he explained, an air of nonchalance to his tone. "I suggest you show your work to someone you trust, but who you know is gonna be honest. Your sister, maybe. Hell, I'd be willing to do it for you if you want, but I know I'm just a stranger."

He shrugged, completely ignoring the girl's reasoning for making the talismans. Everyone had their beliefs, he figured, and while he didn't have much faith in anything, he could understand why one would want to ward off evil.

"Steven, by the way. Steven Vaughn. I don't think I've seen you around Seven Stars."

"Well no, of course a stranger's not going to understand you. But that's why you get to know people. I just saw you having a problem and am offering some advice. Which you don't seem to be listening to, but eh. I tried."

Steven shrugged nonchalantly, thumbing his backpack further up onto his shoulder.

"If you've been doing it for a while then you're not still a beginner. Also trust me, I live in Little Tokyo. I've seen writing that looks a lot better and a lot worse than this."

Now, though, he was honestly kind of curious. What did being "good at" calligraphy entail? He knew there was some special way you had to go about writing... Something about the strokes and their order or something. He folded his arms, looking thoughtfully at the girl who now introduced herself as Natsu.

"Tell you what. What if I asked around my neck of the woods and see if there's someone who knows something about calligraphy? Maybe I can find a book on it or something, or someone who can tutor you." he offered, almost expecting her to turn him down. "You've probably already got stuff you're studying from, but more resources can't hurt, right?"

Seriously, what kind of upbringing did this kid have to be so self-shaming?

Steven rolled his eyes as Natsu continued to fret and fluster over how terrible she thought she was. To him, she was just blowing things out of proportion and making it that much harder on herself. Part of him wanted to just give up, to tell her that if she couldn't at least stop downtalking herself for five minutes then there was no hope for her...

But then, he supposed, that's what everyone else had done in one way or another, and that was likely why she continued to be like this.

He couldn't help the slight sigh that left his mouth as she immediately turned down the offer of being paired with a tutor. Shy or not, it was much more helpful having someone experienced in what you're trying to do teach you than fumble about on your own. But, he supposed, at least she was agreeing to something.

"Alright, a book then. And yes, I would do something like that. Why else would I offer?" he responded, an edge of impatience in his tone. The assumptions this kid was making, honestly... "I'll swing it by here if and when I find it. And if I really can't find anything--which I doubt--then I'll at least leave a note or something for you if you're not here. Sound good?"

Steven's grumpy expression softened ever-so-slightly at Natsu's thanks. Rather, Natsu's quiet acceptance of his reaction. Finally, she wasn't trying to think three steps ahead about how he'd respond. She was going to be a hard learner, he could tell, but at least she was making some progress.

"No problem. In the meantime, you keep trying, even if you think it's terrible. You only get worse without practice." he warned, pulling out his phone and checking the time. "Ugh, damn. I'm going to be late for class. I gotta run, but I'll go snooping around after class. See you 'round."

He gave a halfhearted wave as he turned and set off, tucking his hands as well as his phone into his pockets. Working through problems always left him in a better mood... one could even say a good mood. Productivity was an asset, as his parents always said. Ugh, it sickened him to think their little business quips were taking root in his head.

"Oh, and uh, stop throwing things out on the street. It's not nice to expect other people to clean up after you."

With that, he shrugged his backpack further onto his shoulders, skulking away toward Seven Stars. He'd missed at least half of his first class, but he'd make it right on time for history if he hurried.

[The King is out!]