Self-Portrait
Looking to submit a painting of her own to the Sazak Open Art Exhibition, Gabriel seeks the help of the renowned painter Leon Mondune, who dismisses her work as lacking pathos, recommending she model instead. Gabriel rejects his suggestion and decides to continue devoting herself to painting, but struggles to find her own pathos.
Gabriel: What to do, what to do. I'd love it if I could make up my mind on what to paint...
Brush in hand, Gabriel sits in front of a blank canvas, troubled.
Gabriel: If I'm going to challenge myself, I want to try being creative with the subject matter. But I don't want to break any established rules.
Gabriel: My, it's awfully sunny out. Is it that time already? I know just what I need to help me think...
The sun's gentle rays brighten the street as it moves just past its peak on a warm autumn day.
Gabriel sits at a wall-side table in Uriel's Kitchen—a cozy restaurant in the town of Sazak—and delights in a bowl of stew.
Gabriel: Mmm! The flavor is so tender and tasty!
Gabriel: Excellent as usual, Uriel! Did you use different ingredients this time?
Uriel: You betcha! I threw a bunch of mushrooms into this batch! Raphael brought them over from his farm.
Raphael: Strictly speaking, they are not from my farm. I purchased some woodland nearby where I am trying my hand at cultivating mushrooms on logs.
Uriel: O-on logs? Ah, well, who cares about the details, right? What matters is you made them.
Uriel: Though I suppose we don't "make" anything anymore. We just make the most of what nature provides.
Gabriel: Hehe. Sounds like you two are living fulfilling lives—one a terrific chef, and the other a dedicated farmer.
As Uriel busies himself with meal preparations next to Gabriel, Raphael arranges the vegetables and brings up a certain person missing from their chat.
Raphael: All we are missing is Michael, who has started studying at an acting school. She mentioned she would be conducting research for a role today.
Uriel: Say, Gabriel, aren't you painting something for an event? Um, what was it again...
Gabriel: I am, for the Sazak Open Art Exhibition. Well, I'm trying to, but it's a lot harder than I thought it'd be...
Following the conflict, the primarchs decided to live among mortals in Sazak, and dedicate their time to worldly pursuits.
Gabriel, having gained an interest in art after dabbling as an art model, now lives the life of an aspiring painter.
Raphael: An open exhibition... Is there a selection process to determine which works will be displayed?
Gabriel: There is. It's vastly different from the Sazak Festival exhibition. For that, they just put up whatever you give them.
Uriel: Wow, I can't believe there's a whole process to choose which paintings are shown... Sounds super professional.
Gabriel: There's a lot of tradition behind the event. I heard they were much more strict about what got through in the past.
Gabriel: These days they're mostly concerned about works that could offend public sensibilities. I'm sure it'll be okay, but I can't help worrying about it, you know?
Raphael: Have you decided on a subject? Make a goal and a fair wind may blow you right where you want to go.
Gabriel: Not yet. There's also the rules that I'm concerned about.
Gabriel reaches into her pocket and pulls out a poster detailing the exhibition's submission requirements.
The trio attempt to go over the prerequisites, but their attention is quickly drawn to the picture taking up the entire flyer.
Uriel: Whoa, check out that painting! It's unreal.
Raphael: Countless birds falling through the night sky, their wings—their freedom—stolen from them. A dreadful sight, indeed.
Gabriel: "The Night the Birds Fell." It's a very famous painting.
Gabriel: A work as cheerless as it is breathtaking. Captivating, isn't it?
Entranced by its dark beauty, they stare at it for a while before directing their eyes to the flyer's text.
Uriel: Let's see... It says the theme is portraits. So they want people to paint pictures of... people?
Gabriel: That's not all they're looking for. They want the applicant's work to capture the essence of the subject while integrating surreal elements...
Raphael: Say no more, I understand what you need now. How about something blusterous, like this?
Raphael: ...
Uriel: Um, Raphael? Why're you standing like a hero with a tomato in your hand?
Raphael: Is it not obvious? I am modeling.
Raphael: This tomato is my essence. Go on, Gabriel. Paint away.
Uriel: Oh boy... What do you think, Gabriel?
Gabriel: You know, I could work with that!
Uriel: You're joking!
Gabriel: Okay, maybe not. Sorry, Raphael, but I'll need some time to think over the subject matter and how I want to express it. Is that okay?
Raphael: Very well. Do call on me if you find yourself in need of a helping hand.
Disheartened, Raphael breaks his pose and goes back to arranging the vegetables.
Uriel: Well, anyway... I don't know squat about art, but you can count on me if you ever need a tasty meal!
Gabriel: Hehe, don't worry about me. I'm not letting myself think about it too much.
Gabriel: If I manage to complete something by the deadline, I'll submit it for evaluation.
Gabriel: I'm taking it nice and easy. At the end of the day, I'm just a beginner who paints for fun.
Uriel: Paintings and deadlines... Why does this all sound so familiar?
Uriel: Ah, right!
Uriel nods emphatically and points to the open seat next to Gabriel.
Uriel: One of my regulars who's an old-timer is a painter himself. He always sits right here.
Raphael: Ah, yes, the elderly gentleman. He was planning to submit a work of his own to the exhibition, I believe.
Uriel: Want me to introduce you to him? Who knows, he might teach you some things. Plus making a painting buddy could be good for you, you know?
Gabriel: Wow, could you? Talking to a professional would be a fantastic experience.
Gabriel: But... are you sure it'd be all right? I wouldn't want to be a bother.
Uriel: Wouldn't hurt to ask, right? Just leave it to me.
Uriel pounds his thick chest and flashes his pearly whites to assure Gabriel that everything will be fine.
After getting permission from his regular, Uriel contacts Gabriel to give her the okay. A few days later, she arrives at the painter's studio.
Gabriel: Is this it? It's an impressive residence.
Uriel: He said not to knock and just go in. Apparently, he doesn't want the noise to disturb any of his neighbors.
Gabriel: I suppose that makes sense since it's in the middle of a residential area. I wonder if he gets a lot of visitors?
Curious but apprehensive, Gabriel nervously pushes the white door open. Once inside, she makes herself known.
Gabriel: Hello? My name is Gabriel. You may have heard about me from Uriel?
Painter: Hm?
In the heart of a spacious room, an Erune man, who had been painting, pulls his attention away from his canvas to look at Gabriel.
The moment his eyes land on her, he drops his brush.
Painter: G-goodness! My dear, you have the elegance of an immaculate stream deep in the woods, the mien of a goddess...
Painter: It is you... You are the model I have been looking for!
Gabriel: I-I'm sorry?
Painter: You would look stunning with your hands around your neck. Should we make your blood the color of your hair? No, perhaps it would be better if we—
Gabriel: Sorry to get your hopes up, but I'm not a model, at least not anymore. I'm an aspiring painter.
Painter: Hm? You are a painter? A dazzling beauty such as yourself? How absurd...
As the artist stands before her in a stupor, Gabriel surveys the studio.
Gabriel: (He's got a canvas set up in the center of the room, shelves against the walls, a workstation... He seems organized.)
Gabriel: (What are those on his desk? Maybe design ideas and sketches?)
Gabriel: Oh!
Of the many pictures on his workstation, one in particular catches Gabriel's eye.
Gabriel: "The Night the Birds Fell..." Are you tracing it to study? You know, I've been doing the same—
Painter: Would that there were anything to study. I am the one that created it.
Gabriel: What?
Painter: What you see on my desk are drafts I sketched during the ideation stage.
Gabriel takes a closer look and discovers a number of famous works line the desk—works well known even to novices like herself.
Gabriel: N-no... So you're...
Leon: Yes. Leon Mondune, artist and painter.
Gabriel: Y-you're Master Leon? Oh gosh, it really is you!
Gabriel: (I can't believe it. It's Leon Mondune, the Magus of Melancholy, the world famous painter extraordinaire in the flesh!)
Gabriel: (It's said his work could even move beasts to tears. He's a true genius capable of stirring the soul through his art.)
Gabriel: (No wonder he gets so many visitors! Oh, none of this would've happened if I just asked Uriel for his regular's name first!)
Leon: Ah, right, I almost forgot. Uriel mentioned an aspiring painter would be paying me a visit. You must be her.
Gabriel: I'm so sorry, Master Leon! I didn't mean to come off as rude.
Leon: It is quite all right. Considering Uriel's culinary talent, I suppose I can bring myself to look past something so minor.
Gabriel: ?
Leon: So you have come to learn about painting, is that right?
Gabriel: Would... Would you be willing to teach me?
Leon: One feels immense pain when they are punched, do they not?
Gabriel: S-sorry, I don't think I follow?
Leon: My apologies. What I mean is yes, of course I would.
Leon: All right, first let us have a look at how you paint. How about you paint me a self-portrait?
Leon: I will give you until the end of the day to finish it. You are free to use any of the materials on the shelves; mirrors, brushes, what have you.
Gabriel ruminates over the task as she gazes at herself in the mirror.
Gabriel: (A self-portrait... Should I just paint myself as I am?)
Gabriel: (I'm not sure what I should do. I guess I'll just do what my heart tells me.)
Gabriel: (Oh, it looks a little unbalanced. But instead of fixing it, maybe I can use the distortion to my advantage...)
Gabriel: Hehe!
Leon: ...
Gabriel: There, all done.
The sun has fallen by the time Gabriel finishes her painting. Feeling accomplished, she puts her brush down and shows her self-portrait to Leon.
Leon: Hmm...
Leon: This is the first time you have painted a self-portrait, correct? Did you struggle?
Gabriel: Quite a bit, yes. But as taxing as it was, I had fun.
Leon: ...
Leon: You have a fantastic sense for color. The way you employ it is simple, yet elegant. Distinctive.
Leon: I can tell you have a good grasp on the structure of your own face as well. I also see a purposeful use of distortion, which is indeed very imaginative.
Gabriel: Thank you. By challenging myself to do something different, I thought I'd—
Leon: You have no talent for painting. I suggest you reconsider submitting any of your work to the open exhibition.
Gabriel: Huh?
Gabriel's mouth falls open, dumbfounded by Leon's nonchalant advice.
Gabriel: N-no talent? I only just started painting, how could I—
Leon: Talent is a quality that is most apparent at the start.
Leon: When it rains, the ground becomes wet, does it not?
Gabriel: Is that your way of telling me my lack of artistic ability is obvious? That I would be better off breaking my brush?
Leon: You would be doing yourself a service. It would be impossible for you to make a living off painting.
Gabriel: Make a living?
Gabriel: I think there's a misunderstanding between us. I don't paint for money. I paint because I enjoy it. It's my hobby.
Leon: ...
Leon: The Sazak Open Art Exhibition is where artists display works made with profound dedication and desperation in the hope of attracting patrons.
Leon: Wealth, fame, and status are the goals. It is an arena where artists seize glory.
Leon: You will not find a single piece made by an artist that paints for fun.
Gabriel: !
Leon: Oh, again I must apologize. I understand the barrier to entry for painting is quite low these days. I got carried away in my references to the old standards.
Leon: That said, my sentiment remains the same. Even at my level, I must steel myself to continue submitting works to the exhibition.
As Gabriel takes in everything Leon has to say, she confronts him with an unyielding gaze.
Gabriel: You're right. I don't have the determination of a professional painter.
Gabriel: But is that all art's about? Wealth, fame, and status?
Gabriel: Is there no place in this world for art born from enjoyment?
Leon: There is nothing wrong with art for amusement's sake. But art at the exhibition is not only viewed, it is compared.
Leon: You will learn quickly that talent is everything.
Leon: And that the most fitting reward for having it is always wealth, fame, and status.
Leon turns from Gabriel to give her painting another close look.
Leon: What I am about to tell you is the truth. If it hurts to hear, you are welcome to stop me.
Leon: First, your self-portrait lacks pathos. It is absent of any passion, any desire to paint the subject.
Gabriel: What!
Leon: Self-portraiture is how an artist depicts their self, yet I see not a drop of isolation, bitterness, or even strong emotion. Just brushstrokes on canvas.
Leon: It presents itself as a piece made by the rich for whom art is just a hobby. Do you expect anyone to be moved by this?
Gabriel: Ngh!
Leon's comments hit Gabriel like a ton of bricks. Her vision twists.
Leon: Talent is an overflowing force. Pathos spills from the art of a true prodigy. It is striking, terribly obvious even to laymen.
Leon: Technique can be adjusted, but individuality, the root of innovative ideas and expressions... well, nothing can be done about that.
Leon: That is not to say I see something in your technique either. On the contrary, while your use of color is elegant, it is mediocre.
Leon: And your idea to incorporate your accident into the piece, while commendable, shows your lack of planning.
Gabriel: ...
Leon: Now what you do have a discernable talent for, however, is modeling. How about putting your abundance of beauty to use instead?
Gabriel: No. Nothing in the sky interests me more than painting.
Gabriel: I take great pleasure in freely depicting the magnificent scenery of this world as I see fit.
Leon: What a terrible pity. Unfortunately, talent is not something one can choose to have.
Leon: I will not spurn painting as a hobby. And, despite my harsh words, I do not intend to stop you from submitting a work to the exhibition.
Leon: I have no qualms teaching you what I know about painting as a token of appreciation toward Uriel and his talent in the kitchen.
Leon: But you should know...
Leon picks up a brush, turns to his canvas, and begins to paint.
Sounds of his brush sweeping across the canvas continue for a while. When he finally runs out of breath, he takes a seat.
Leon: This is who I am.
Soon after leaving Leon's studio, Gabriel sits on a bench, deep in her own thoughts.
Gabriel: (I can't get my mind off of Master Leon's self-portrait...)
Gabriel: (A picture of a frail, elderly man, with bloody tears streaming down his sickly lilac face...)
Gabriel: (Screaming in agony as he snaps his paintbrush...)
Gabriel: (The overwhelming intensity I felt, that was Master Leon's pathos... It was the work of a consummate professional.)
Feeling demoralized, Gabriel sighs and hides her face in her hands.
Man: U-um, hello? You doing all right, miss?
Gabriel: ...
Man: What am I saying, of course you aren't! Obviously something bad happened to you! If you don't mind talking to a former child prodigy about it, I'm all ear—
Gabriel: Ugh, I can't believe him!
Man: Wah!
Gabriel: Hm? Was someone just here?
Gabriel looks around to make doubly sure nobody's near before clenching her fists.
Gabriel: He thinks talent is everything. That art made from a place of enjoyment is meaningless. That I'd make a better model than a painter.
Gabriel: Well, to that I say, so what?
Gabriel: I've found my calling and it's painting! I don't care what he says, I'm going to paint what I want... and submit it to the open exhibition!
After belting out her resolve to no one in particular, Gabriel takes another look at her self-portrait.
Gabriel: ...
Gabriel: But first... I need to figure out what sentiment I want to depict in my art.
Gabriel: The screaming, the agony in Master Leon's self-portrait... Where does it all come from?
The haunting figure of the frail man snapping his brush endures in Gabriel's head.
As if shaking herself free from the image, she stands up and hurries home while mulling over her own painting.
Hope
Gabriel watches Michael act in a play about Leon, the Magus of Melancholy's life and learns of the curse his father left him. Now knowing the reason why Leon is fixated on talent, she visits the museum to view his works and runs into the painter himself. She asks Leon what art means to him, and he responds—a curse.
Gabriel has immersed herself in painting with the goal of submitting a work of her own to the Sazak Open Art Exhibition.
Through Uriel, she's given a chance to visit the studio of Leon, a famous painter. But upon arriving, she gets a little more than she bargained for.
Leon: You have no talent for painting. I suggest you reconsider submitting any of your work to the open exhibition.
The caustic dressing-down, though discouraging, has inspired Gabriel to prove herself through her own work.
Michael: I see. Sounds like you had an unpleasant time.
Uriel: I'm sorry you had to go through that, Gabriel. If I just minded my own business, none of this would've happened...
Gabriel shares the details of her eventful visit to Leon's studio with the others at Uriel's Kitchen.
Between classes at the acting school, Michael is present as well, rounding out the group of retired primarchs.
Gabriel: Don't be sorry, Uriel. Thanks to you, I now have the opportunity to think about what art and painting mean to me.
Raphael: Have you found an answer?
Gabriel: I don't know yet. But I'm sure about one thing—I like to paint. That's why I do it.
Gabriel: I want my work to be good, but I'm not going to obsess over its quality. I can't believe he'd tell me to give up just because he thinks I don't have talent.
Uriel: Yeah, that's some pretty warped thinking, if you ask me. What's the harm in pursuing what you want to do?
Gabriel: Now I finally understand how you feel, Michael.
Michael: How I feel?
Gabriel: You know, about your Mole Troupe. You all did what you wanted and stuck with it until the very end.
The Mole Troupe is a four-person acting company based in Sazak whose membership includes Michael.
Previously, the group caused a stir by showcasing a play by the Mole Troupe, for the Mole Troupe during the Sazak Festival.
Raphael: I heard you four were quite pleased with your performance... despite all the egg throwing from the audience.
Gabriel: I'm going to take a page out of your book, Michael, and stay true to my own passion. I've had enough with testing the waters!
Michael: ...
Uriel: Haha, that's the spirit, Gabriel! You deserve a heaping helping of stew today!
Gabriel: Heheh! Thank you, Mother Uriel!
Uriel: I-I thought I told you to stop calling me that! It gives me the creeps!
Michael: Hey, Gabriel. Could I have some of your time after lunch?
Gabriel: ?
Upon finishing their stew, Michael takes Gabriel to a building known by many in Sazak.
Gabriel: This place... This is the Sazak Theater, right?
Michael: I'm doing a rehearsal performance of my play today in the recital hall. I want you to see it.
Gabriel: Wow, that's so cool! Are you sure it's okay for me to watch?
Michael: Of course. It's part of my class, so you'll be there as a visitor.
Michael: I've been spending a lot of time studying in the museum and library to get the part right just for this day.
Gabriel: You've been going to the museum too? Michael, what's this play about?
Michael: It's titled "Leon－A Life." It's a play about the life of Leon Mondune.
Gabriel enters the recital hall and blends in with the teacher and a handful of students. She takes a seat at the end of a row.
Leon: I loved my father's paintings.
On stage, Michael basks in a beam of light as she loses herself in the role of Leon.
Leon: He was an artist—a painter. Though not an awfully talented one. As he struggled, and he often did, so too would our family.
Leon: With what little money we had, my father enrolled me in the Sazak School of Fine Arts.
Leon: As much as I loved his paintings, I, myself, had no interest in art.
Leon: My brush was heavy, as if it were weighed down by my father's blood.
Leon: But no matter what, I kept my head down. I kept painting. And before I knew it, I was graduating at the top of my class.
Leon: Graduation project in hand, I returned home for the first time in a long while—only to be greeted with contempt.
Leon's Father: Why! Why would the gods choose you!
Leon's Father: Why would they bless you with talent... yet give me nothing!
Leon: My father cursed me, and he would continue to curse me until he took his own life.
Leon: And so... my brush grew heavier.
Michael: Thank you.
Gabriel is overwhelmed by Leon's life story as it unfolds in the play. It goes on to recount his failures and triumphs before coming to an end.
Michael: Sorry to keep you waiting, Gabriel. I got caught up receiving feedback from my teachers.
Gabriel: That was spectacular, Michael. I felt like I was watching the real Master Leon.
Michael: Thank you... but I still have a ways to go. I've been scolded plenty of times for my shallow understanding of the character and the work, not to mention my technique.
Gabriel: That notebook of yours... Did you buy another new one?
Michael: Ah, yes, I did. It doesn't take long to fill one up when you write down everything you learn like I do.
Gabriel: I see. I can tell you're really putting your all into acting.
Michael sighs and turns to look straight at Gabriel.
Michael: Gabriel... The reason I performed "The Detective of Venase" during the Sazak Festival was because I liked the Mole Troupe.
Gabriel: Michael, what are you...
Michael: I did it for myself, for my own satisfaction. Recognition didn't matter. I had never felt so much passion as I did on that stage.
Michael: But now... I've come to realize that acting for others—for the audience—is just as wonderful as acting for myself.
Gabriel: !
Michael: As far as being a thespian, I still have nothing. I'm merely a girl peeking into the depths of a world of professionals with fear in her eyes.
Michael: I won't comment on your decision, whatever you choose. I just wanted you to know about the life of Leon, the painter... and of Michael, the actor.
After parting ways with Michael, Gabriel visits the Sazak Museum of Art.
Gabriel: This season's exhibition... "Leon, The Magus of Melancholy."
Gabriel draws a deep breath before embarking on a tour of Leon's work. She takes her time admiring each piece.
Gabriel: "The Man Coughing Up Red." Leon literally put his blood and sick into making this. A true masterwork of despair.
Gabriel: "Darkness." The things one can do with black shading, I had no idea...
Gabriel: "The Night the Birds Fell..."
Leon: This is who I am.
Gabriel: I acted like a naive child...
Gabriel: Wholly unaware of the hardships the artist endures, putting a voice to whatever came to my heart.
Leon: Yes, and nobody is born knowing the taste of stew.
Gabriel: M-Master Leon! Why are you here?
Leon: Why else? It is my job to stay abreast of how my work is received.
Leon: Your dedication to learning is admirable, but remember what I said—you do not have the talent for art. I advise you stick to being an observer.
Gabriel: I think I know why you're so fixated on talent. It's because of everything that happened with your father.
Gabriel: You believe to pursue something without having the talent for it only invites ruin. That's why you tried to stop me.
Leon: Perhaps I underestimated your thirst for knowledge. But I suppose your wit makes things easier for me.
Leon: Talent comes with responsibility. Those with it are obligated to make the best of their gift for the sake of those without.
Leon: Do you have any idea how many people in this world want for a beauty such as yours but never achieve it?
Gabriel: ...
Leon: I will not force you, but your destiny is to be a model. It is what you should be doing.
Gabriel: If I could just ask you one thing.
Gabriel: Master Leon... what is art to you?
Without skipping a beat, Leon gives her an answer.
Leon: A curse... One from which one never escapes.
Visitor: It's you! You're Master Leon, aren't you?
Visitor: Oh, I knew it! I'm a big fan, sir, huge!
Visitor: I just can't get enough of the kind of hopeless anguish that exudes from your work! Can I get an autograph?
Leon: Water flows downstream, does it not?
Visitor: Um, I'm sorry, what?
Leon: Oh, my apologies. Of course you can.
As soon as Leon opens himself up to autographs, a crowd of people take notice and line up for a signature of their own.
Gabriel: ...
While he signs away, Gabriel gazes at his profile, as if searching for something profound behind his grin.
Hope: Scene 2
As Leon outlines the responsibility talented individuals have to society, Gabriel reads up on his life in the library. She ponders over his pathos and has an epiphany while taking a break with the other primarchs, leading her to choose a path forward.
On a moonless night, Leon sits in a bar located on the outskirts of Sazak.
Bar Owner: You coming to my bar at a time like this could only mean one thing—you're having trouble with your submission to the exhibition, ain't you?
Leon: Depends on what you mean by "trouble." I have a subject, but the model's yet to give me her consent.
Bar Owner: Is that so? Well, you've always been the disciplined type. Just don't go crazy and kidnap the poor soul to make her model, got it?
Leon: ...
Bar Owner: Hey, I was just kidding! Don't forget, people like you because you're an artist with some sense!
Man: Nothin' left but to run to the bottle on a day like this!
Bar Owner: Oh boy, and here comes nonsense! And he already reeks of booze!
The inebriate is Falsch, a thirty-six-year-old former child prodigy in acting, and member of the now inactive Mole Troupe.
Falsch: Leooon, my maaan. I owe Gabriel a lot, you know? Like, I'm indirectly indebted to her, you get me?
Falsch: Do your old pal a favor and be nice to her, all right? That's all I'm asking!
Leon: Never afraid to play the "old pal" card, are you? Always audacious, Falsch.
Leon: It's hard to believe you were once that young boy performing on the street. I invested so much in you and your abilities...
Falsch: You sure did. And I threw it all away by breaking up the Mole Troupe.
Leon: I can't fathom why you'd squander such talent. Your foolishness defies reason.
Falsch: Talent-obsessed old fart...
Leon: What did you just say?
Falsch: Oh, nothing! I really do feel bad about all that, honest.
Falsch: Anyway, back to you. Leon, are you seriously gonna keep that up until you die? You know, that "responsibility of the gifted" thing you're always on about?
Leon: Without question.
Leon: I stand atop the bodies of my art school classmates, my teachers, my peers, the many nameless amateurs, my father...
Leon: The artists who died in despair over my talent... and their lack thereof. I have a duty to them.
Falsch: Hmm... See, to me, with my no shine and no job, that all sounds pretty dang impressive.
Falsch: But, Leon Mondune... You're not so weak as to let yourself become buried by the misery of others, are you?
Leon: ...
The next day, Gabriel holes herself up in the library, voraciously consuming any material she can find on Leon.
Gabriel: From art journals to competitions, assessment of Leon's artistic abilities seems to be uniform across all forms of critique.
Michael: The Magus of Melancholy, the genius who moves hearts with his grim subject matter...
Michael: Care for some help?
Gabriel: Michael! How'd you know I was here?
Michael: It was easy; all I had to do was trace your line of thought. Interested in learning about Leon, I see?
Gabriel: You know me too well. Yes, and if I keep going, I might learn enough to play him myself.
As the pair peruse through each book, Gabriel deepens her understanding of the enigmatic artist.
Gabriel: "Young Leon was more or less compelled into attending art school by his father, a man with an intransigent fixation on painting."
Gabriel: I see. So everything you were acting out on stage was based on reality.
Michael: Leon is obsessed with talent. He stifles himself... and puts brush to canvas for the sake of others.
Gabriel: ...
Gabriel: Master Leon... what is art to you?
Gabriel: Maybe it is a curse like he said.
Gabriel: But if that's the case, then what is his pathos?
Leon: Talent is an overflowing force. Pathos spills from the art of a true prodigy. It is striking, terribly obvious even to laymen.
Michael: Could that also be the curse? Perhaps he despairs over his own talent and curses himself for having it?
Gabriel: That wouldn't be too far-fetched of an assumption, but I don't know...
"The Night the Birds Fell" and the self-portrait Gabriel saw in Leon's studio run through her mind.
Gabriel: How does he do it... Why is his art so captivating?
Uriel: Uri-ello! What's cookin', you two?
Raphael: Lower your voice, Uriel. This is a library.
Uriel: Oops, my bad. This boxed lunch I made really put me in the picnic mood.
Gabriel: How did you guys know I was here too? Am I that easy to figure out?
Uriel: Never mind that, I brought food! How 'bout you take a break and come eat with us in the plaza?
Once the primarchs find a nice spot in the plaza, Uriel lays out the spread from the box he's prepared.
Gabriel: Mmm, yummy! Whatever this braised dish is, it's just bursting with flavor!
Gabriel: Thank you, Uriel. Your cooking always manages to hit the spot.
Michael: You've brought paper containers, boxed lunch partitions, plates... This is all awfully thorough preparation for a lunchtime picnic.
Uriel: Oh, um... Well, to tell you the truth, I've been thinking about selling boxed lunches starting this fall. Raphael's been helping me get things ready.
Gabriel: Boxed lunches? I'm sure your customers would love that, but that sounds like a lot of work.
Uriel: You bet it is! I gotta come up with a new menu that tastes good cold, think of variety and nutrition, and figure out pricing. I've got a lot on my plate.
Uriel: But, hey, this is the path I've chosen. Just like how you chose yours, right, Gabriel?
Gabriel: Right. I chose my own path...
Raphael: ...
Michael: Raphael? Why are you sitting still and staring at the food like that?
Raphael: I am modeling for Gabriel. I thought perhaps "Man Looking at Lunch" would make for a good painting.
Gabriel: Hmm... There's a philosophical air about you, but I think in a painting you might come across as lacking in substance.
Raphael: What!
Uriel: Haha! That was cold, Gabriel! Look, you made Raphael freeze up!
Gabriel: Was it? Maybe some of Master Leon's harshness rubbed off on me?
Raphael: No matter. It will take a little more than that to stop me from trying time and again.
Raphael: After all, we strive for the stars precisely because we cannot hope to reach them.
Gabriel: You keep trying... even when faced with futility?
Gabriel gasps and rushes to grab the flyer for the Sazak Open Art Exhibition out of her pocket.
Raphael: Ah, yes, the painting with the birds falling from above. As depressing as it is, I am hard-pressed to avert my gaze from its brilliance.
Gabriel: Yes, it is hard to look away from. This is it... I think I've figured out Master Leon's pathos!
Michael: Gabriel? I take it you've had an epiphany of some sort?
Gabriel nods, then turns to her friends with a smile.
Gabriel: Thanks to you all, I've found my way forward.
Gabriel: I'm going to go professional.
Hope: Scene 3
Gabriel reveals to Leon her intent on becoming a professional painter after identifying the hope depicted in his works, and vows to release him from his curse by succeeding as an ungifted artist. Still without pathos, she admits she has much to learn. Leon relents and takes Gabriel on as his pupil. On the day of the exhibition, Leon's submission, a colorful portrait of Gabriel, shines bright in the gallery.
Days later, Gabriel returns to Leon's studio.
Leon: Gabriel. Come to learn more about painting?
Gabriel: No. I'm here to show you my pathos.
Leon: Oh? So you have brought a work of yours for me to see?
Gabriel: ...
Without a word, Gabriel walks past Leon and into his studio.
There she begins to transform.
Gabriel: Behold. This is who I really am—my true form.
Leon: Well, color me shocked. It is no wonder I sensed an aptitude for modeling in you.
Gabriel: I will be your model, Master Leon. Make me the subject of your painting.
Leon: So you've decided then? To put your talent to use for the good of the world?
Gabriel: You misunderstand. This will be the first and last time I model for you. Think of it as a token of appreciation for helping me make up my mind.
Gabriel: I have made my decision... and that is to become a professional painter.
Leon: What?
Gabriel: I realized something about your pathos.
Gabriel: The sentiment you depict in your painting, "The Night the Birds Fell," isn't despair.
Leon: !
A gentle smile pulls at Gabriel's lips as she strokes her wings.
Gabriel: I did not wish for these wings.
Gabriel: They have been with me from the very beginning—just as your gift has been with you.
Leon: ...
Gabriel: Though I never wanted to soar the skies, I fly. Though you never wanted to create, you paint.
Gabriel: The birds in your painting aren't falling. They chose to stop flying. They've been freed from their duty, haven't they?
Gabriel: Your self-portrait the other day was similar. By snapping his paintbrush, the elderly man was abdicating himself from the obligations of his talent.
Leon: What is your point in explaining my work to me?
Gabriel: Master Leon, your paintings brim with hope. Am I wrong?
Leon's brows lift in curiosity, but his expression quickly returns to normal.
Leon: Say that they are. The presence of hope does not change the fact that they are scenes of despair.
Leon: Only death awaits a bird who has stopped flying. And illness will see to it that the old man suffers the same fate.
Gabriel: Right. That may be what happens in the real world.
Gabriel: But in the world of your paintings lies your truest desire. That is why they move hearts.
Gabriel: Reaching for the unreachable is painful... but in hope there is beauty.
Leon lets out a long, drawn-out sigh in response to Gabriel's analysis.
Leon: Gabriel, I must say, I did not foresee your talent for art critique. But my evaluation stands—you do not have what it takes to be a painter.
Leon: If your aspiration is to make painting anything more than a hobby, then I cannot—
Gabriel: Master Leon, why not let the birds fall in the real world too! Why not snap your brush!
Leon: Excuse me?
Gabriel: If I were to make it as a painter with my so-called lack of talent, don't you think that would be enough?
Gabriel: Wouldn't it prove that being gifted isn't everything? That there's no need to hold yourself captive to talent?
Leon: D-don't be absurd! You look to become a painter just to clip my wings? Is that what you are telling me?
Gabriel: I can't very well do it by myself, of course. Don't let these wings fool you—I'm nothing but a flightless chick.
Gabriel bows deeply toward Leon.
Gabriel: I beg you, please. Teach me everything you know about painting.
Leon: !
In shock, Leon stares at Gabriel, wide-eyed.
Leon: A will to paint driven by a desire to liberate me from my talent. Art made with a sentiment so farcical cannot hope to stir the soul.
Leon: Gabriel, tell me... do you know who you are as a person?
Gabriel: I'm not sure I do. What I know is that I relish the time I spend letting my brush roam. That's all.
Gabriel: But I've come to understand that there are things I don't yet comprehend. That's why I want to paint.
Gabriel: I want to keep my wings tucked away, walk with my feet planted on the ground...
Gabriel: And find what pathos awaits me just ahead. I want to discover myself.
Leon: ...
Gabriel: What do you say?
Leon: There's nothing to say.
Leon: I feel as if I'm being asked if I'm a painter in the presence of a god.
Leon mutters, then picks up his brush. He takes to his canvas, painting with gusto.
Gabriel: ...
Gabriel: (I suppose that's his own way of saying he'll do it?)
Ever the talented model, Gabriel holds her pose and watches closely as Leon's brush hops to and fro.
A few days have passed, and the day of the Sazak Open Art Exhibition has arrived.
Gabriel pays a visit to the venue with Michael at her side.
Michael: I take it you decided not to submit anything?
Gabriel: Yes. I couldn't produce a piece up to my own standards.
Michael: I see. That was your choice and I think that's just fine.
Michael: Look at all of these people. Leon's work brings in the crowds.
Gabriel: It sure does. Let's line up to get a look.
The pair follow the crowd, and as the people fall away, a single portrait comes into view.
The painting is of a beautiful woman, wings spread wide, light filtering down through the clouds above and shining upon her.
Around her, birds and cherubs flutter about—not a hint of misery to be found.
Visitor: This is a work by Master Leon? I never would've thought he'd use such lively colors!
Visitor: That said... it's quite charming.
Michael: In a word, it's magnificent. She looks like a goddess of salvation.
Gabriel: She does, doesn't she? I'm almost sure I wouldn't have been able to depict that in a self-portrait.
As a wry smile forms on Gabriel's lips, she turns to leave.
Michael: Done looking already?
Gabriel: I have an assignment to do. I need to head back to the studio to finish it.
Gabriel: Besides, I'm feeling... inspired.
Michael: Are you now?
Gabriel: Some day, I want to paint a portrait that transcends Master Leon's vibrant work—and one day I will.
Without looking back, Gabriel walks straight to the exit and leaves the exhibition behind.
In the corner of Leon's painting, written in small letters, is the title of his work...
"Hope."
Mixed Chocolate Cake