I don't know if many actual +Anima fans are still lurking around here or not, but I've been working on this little idea for a while since I can't get enough of the character dynamics in this series, even years after I first read it! I'd love to write more with these characters later down the line, so if anyone has concrit to give me on how I can improve, I welcome it happily!


Though the day itself wasn't particularly warm, being packed between five other bodies while standing directly beneath the sun wasn't doing Husky's body temperature any favors. His fingers twitched with the urge to reach up and tug at the collar of his shirt. Beside him, Nana glared, effectively stilling his hands. Then her eyes darted back forward, beaming at the painter who surveyed them over the edge of his easel.

Husky opted to scowl.

Most foolish ideas that weren't Cooro's doing belonged to Nana instead, and this one was certainly a product of the latter. Husky wished news had never reached them of a young artist in town looking for work, as of course Nana did her utmost to persuade Haden and Margaret to allow them all to have a portrait done. And it hadn't taken much persuading at all until they were all dressed up in their best clothes, sewn by Margaret and Nana shortly after moving in with Haden, and marched into town, at the edge of which they now stood, framed by swaths of grass and small spring flowers. Being painted. At an agonizingly slow pace. While overheating.

"Husky," Nana hissed, and he glanced her way. She was giving him the side-eye once more, the expression darkly contrasting her otherwise bright outfit of lilac dress and necklace of red poppies.

Husky felt his cheeks grow hot with the memory of giving her that necklace when they were all exchanging gifts in celebration of their first full year with Haden and Margaret, and responded without meeting her gaze. "What now?"

"Your face. Stop glaring like that!"

Though they both kept their voices low, Haden cleared his throat behind them, and they quieted completely. Husky, feeling the older man's gaze on his back, shifted his expression to something more neutral.

After a few minutes, when Haden's attention was back on the painter, Nana spoke again, barely whispering this time. "Didn't you ever have your picture painted back in S- your old home?"

"Yes." He didn't elaborate further.

Nana pressed on. "Didn't you smile for them?"

Husky's lips turned downward, and his eyes narrowed. "Not if I didn't have to."

"If I could have my portrait done by the finest painters in the land," she muttered, eyes still trained forward, "I would definitely give them my prettiest smile, so that they can put it in the painting for everyone to see."

"Your face would go sore. Sitting for a portrait is boring and tiresome and takes forever and-"

He was cut off by Cooro jostling into him on his other side, forgetting the frequent admonishments to stay still that they all received before this whole ordeal started and leaning over to join in on the conversation. Without even bothering to keep his voice down, either. "What are you guys talking about?"

"Nothing at all, I should hope," Haden scolded, and Cooro quickly moved back into position, earning a curious look from Senri and a small giggle from Margaret in the row behind him.

The painter himself looked up from his position far in front of all of them, a puzzled expression crossing his face. He peered at them through a pair of spectacles perched on a hooked nose, paintbrush held mid-stroke and close to dripping onto patched clothing. In no way did he even vaguely resemble the finely dressed court painters Husky was familiar with. Neither did he bark an order to stay still as they would have, instead pushing his glasses up on his nose with his free hand and cautiously asking, "Er, is everything alright?"

"Seems the children are getting a bit restless," Margaret told him, even as she shifted her feet herself. "I think they'll be still now, though. Right?" She sent Cooro, Husky, and Nana a look that contained just a hint of sternness, and they went as still as possible.

The painter gave a brief nod. "Yes, I understand. It shouldn't be too much longer, though, I assure you, so don't worry about a thing, ma'am."

A silence settled back over the group. Nana and Cooro directed smiles at the painter once more, and in the back row, Senri stared blankly forward as he'd been doing since the start, while Margaret and Haden kept aiming occasional glances toward anyone they suspected might speak out of turn. Husky shifted his weight from foot to foot, trying to temper his sour expression but finding it returning more strongly than ever. He replayed his and Nana's conversation in his mind, words overlapping an image of himself as a child, standing beside his mother's chair with aching legs and wondering when they'd finally be done so he could sit down again, her voice intruding to tell him to stop squirming.

"What's the difference between this and any other painting?" he muttered to himself, words not meant for anyone else to hear.

Nana heard them anyway. "This one," she informed him, "is ours."

And that was that on the matter.


"It's so beautifully done," Margaret praised, once they were all gathered around the finished product. A pleased cough escaped the painter, and he smiled from his place beside the group.

"Ah, thank you, I'm glad to hear you like it, ma'am!" He shuffled a bit, nervously tugging at his collar. "Especially since I, ah, don't often paint children at all. Or… +Anima, for that matter." Husky's marking was the only one among them whose clothes left it uncovered, so the painter glanced toward where he stood at the back of the group. The stony look returned his way quickly drove him to avert his gaze again. He found a handy excuse to keep his attention turned elsewhere when there was a sound of flipping pages, Senri having pulled his book from his pocket and scanning it.

Husky heard Cooro exclaim happily when they apparently found whatever flower was being looked for, and Husky did try to crane his neck around enough to see, but the only thing in his line of sight at the time was everyone else's backs. And certainly not a glimpse of the painting everyone else was making such a fuss about. He doubted it was even that exceptional; the painter himself had admitted to not having much professional experience.

"Kim-un-kur's Paintbrush," he was explaining. "A common enough wildflower, especially in the mountains. I'm afraid I made some assumptions about your quiet friend here based on the beads he wears… thought perhaps it was a detail he might appreciate."

"It's lovely," Nana said, as Haden dug out the painter's pay and Senri himself gave a tiny nod of approval, "We'll put it above the mantle. Or, no – in the kitchen, even" She peered behind her, catching Husky's gaze around the people between them. "What do you think? You haven't said a thing!"

"I can't even see it," Husky scoffed. "How would I know?"

Nana gasped as if horrified by this statement. "Get up here, then! You have to look!"

Before he was able to protest, the others made way when Nana darted to grab Husky's hand and yank him forward. He stumbled her direction with a cry, stopping right in front of the painter's easel, narrowly avoiding a collision. "Nana!" He snapped, pulling away from her. "Don't grab me like that!"

"Just look!" she commanded, gesturing toward the easel. Cooro nodded enthusiastically behind her.

"Go on," Margeret encouraged, smiling gently. "You might be surprised."

With that, Husky reluctantly complied, settling his gaze on the object of everyone's attention. Then, he blinked several times.

It was nothing like the dark, austere paintings he remembered from Sailand. The colors were warm and inviting, with flowers that popped brightly around everyone's feet. The attention to detail was obvious, from the patterns on Nana's dress to the lines of Haden's face. Smiles graced the faces of the painting's subjects, except for Husky's, and a twinge of guilt briefly struck. Though when he looked more closely, Husky realized he wasn't exactly frowning in the picture, either. His expression was neutral, serious but not unhappy, watchful but not harsh.

Husky took a step back, arms folded across his chest.

"Well." Haden stepped past Husky and took the painting from the easel, settling it against his chest to carry. "If you're going to say something, better say it now. It's about time we head back home."

The others followed Haden one by one, Nana and Cooro trailing furthest behind and offering Husky expectant looks as they passed. The painter himself came last, taking his easel and folding it neatly. Husky took a breath, and lightly toed the ground.

"It's fine," he said. The painter glanced over as he tucked his tool under his arm, head tilted quizzically.

Off to the side, Nana gasped in delight and clasped her hands. "From him," she said, beaming at the artist, "that's like saying it's the greatest he's ever seen!" She planted her hands on her hips and gave a smirk. "He can't ever just be honest about what he thinks."

"That isn't true!"

"It's very true." Nanu was a master of the smuggest look Husky had ever seen, complete with her swaying slightly, confidently, edges of her dress twirling to and fro, and her hands laced behind her back. It was sort of cute completely infuriating.

A smile crept onto the painter's face, Husky barely catching it before the man masked it by turning his head and adjusting his glasses again. "In that case," he said, "I'm very flattered. And I'll be around this way again sometime if you'd ever like another..."

"We will!" Nana leaped to promise, waving as she walked away, and Husky thought he saw Haden sigh in resignation.

Husky followed in the back on the way home. Nana fell into step beside him. This, inherently, wasn't what made him nervous. It was noticing she hadn't said anything since.

"I thought you'd be in as much of a hurry as he is," Husky said, nodding toward Cooro in the front. Not for the first time, he'd found himself far ahead of everyone and stuck waiting for them to catch up. He shifted the whole time, rocking back on his heels, fidgeting his hands, the sort of restlessness that screamed hurry up! without need for actual words.

Nana hmm-ed but didn't say anything else, until enough time had passed that Husky was wracking his brain for a way to break the silence again.

"You never answered," she finally said.

"What?"

"About where you thought we should put it. And since you do like it-" (Here, she sent Husky her best try to deny it look) "- I want to know."

Warm colors, smiling faces, the way it screamed of that thing called "family" and he could see it so clearly still-

Nana tilted her head, and waved a hand in front of his face. "Well?"

Husky couldn't banish the images from his mind.

"… If we paid for it, we might as well put it where people can see it."

Nana's squeal made Husky wince and fold his arms tight against his chest. It drew everyone else's eyes their way. "Husky says we should put it in the main room!" she told them, and Husky offered a small nod when everyone looked to him for confirmation.

"That's fine, I guess," he said.

Margaret's eyes crinkled with her smile. "Then that's what we'll do."

It's exactly what they did. It was the first thing Husky saw when he came in from pulling weeds in the garden, Nana and Margaret's chatter floating in from the kitchen where they made lunch. Light cut in front of it with dust floating to and fro in the beams, as if themselves delighted. And Husky stopped to study it, the smallest smile finally pulled from him. A fitting portrait if there ever was one, each figure both contrasting and complimenting the other with its colors. Belonging borne of clashing. Family borne of hardship, of sometimes grating on each others' nerves, of still coming together at the end of it all.

Husky touched the mark on his arm, and thought he wouldn't have it any other way.

And maybe someday he'd admit it, too.