Realistic? Like, photorealism? Photos were the complete opposite of the abstract art she was painting. Though it was true that realistic portraits were popular because photographs didn’t exist in Valschein.
No matter how I look at it, it’s an incomprehensible—no, artistic, not incomprehensible—painting. Though, if she’s trying to paint realistically and this is the result, she might not actually have any talent... As I struggled to come up with a response, the woman turned back to look at me.
“You all go on about how my pieces are artistic, but that’s just because you can’t understand them, isn’t it?! What’s truly incredible is art that looks like a copy of reality!”
“No, your art is true to life—it depicts reality as it is,” I said.
I wasn’t lying just to console her—I said it because her painting was really like a photograph. The painter’s face had crazy proportions. Her features were laid out as if they were all flat—it was a Picasso-like face. Not that she looked like Picasso himself, but her face was similar to those that he painted.
The Kingdom of Twilight is filled with unusual people, but I never expected to meet someone with a Picasso face.
The truly Picassoesque woman said in a nervous voice, “Really? Does this painting actually look like reality?”
“It’s true. I can’t tell the difference.”
Though photorealistic art existed, if you observed them closely, you could tell that they were paintings or drawings. However, I couldn’t tell the portrait in front of me apart from reality. More accurately, I couldn’t tell the difference between the art that looked like scribbles, and a reality that was indiscernible as reality.
The woman, who looked like she’d been lifted from a canvas, was probably looking at me as she spoke. “You really mean it? This art is realistic?”
“A reality similar to art... Sorry, I misspoke. It’s art similar to reality.”
“I see. It’s taken so long. Finally—I’ve finally...” Her bizarre face turned back to look at her bizarre painting. She extended her hand and gently touched the piece of art. Her dainty fingers that were dirty with paint began to change.
The red paint on her palms and the blue paint stuck between her nails slowly began to take over the human parts of her body. I stood there stunned, and before I knew it, her hand looked similar to a familiar painting.
“U-Um, your hand...”
The woman seemed to pay no mind to the change to her body and only now looked at her own hand. She compared her hand to the painting, which was now depicted in a similar style.
“Finally. I’ve finally painted my ideal piece. I tossed away the style I hated so much for so long, and I finally painted something that looks like I cut out a piece of reality.”
It’s your hand that’s changed, not your art style. That thought was difficult to voice, and there was a strange air to the woman now. I felt like something bad was going to happen, and the cat-eared man and calico in his arms both had flattened ears. The king was the only one to go closer to the painter.
“I’ve finally painted a piece I’m satisfied with, King.”
“I’m happy to hear it. I’ve been a fan of your work. I’m very happy for you. What kind of piece are you going to try painting next?”
“I’m satisfied now. This is the last one.”
“Why? Your life as a painter is just beginning. You can paint as much as you want in this kingdom.”
“Thank you, King. But I’m all right. I drew so many pieces in Twilight. I had fun.”
I couldn’t read the expression on her face, but I could tell she was happy. But I could read the look on the king’s face—he seemed incredibly sad.
It was then that the canvas began to crumble. The paint peeled off and disappeared, and red sand began to pour onto the ground from the canvas. The legs of the easel also crumbled before the canvas fell over, and both became one with the red, sandy earth.
The piece I’d been so focused on had disappeared, and I stood there, shocked and in a daze as I stared at the artist. The same thing that happened to the canvas was happening to the painter. Her body was turning into sand as it crumbled. The woman herself seemed to be at peace and accepted the phenomenon as if it were a natural occurrence.
“Don’t look so sad, King. Since there’s no pain, this is much better than death.”
“Why do you have to go?” the hero asked. “Soon it’ll be morning in the Kingdom of Twilight. We’re just getting started.”
“I’m sorry. For me, it seems that night has fallen. This is an evening dusk, not a morning dawn.” Those were her final words before she completely crumbled away. She turned into silent red sand and became one with the earth.
I expected there to be a mound of sand, roughly the size of a person, but not even that was left behind. There were no remnants of the woman, and she’d completely disappeared.
The king fell to his knees at the spot where she once stood and took a moment to silently pray. I also followed his lead and bowed my head. Though I looked like I was praying, instead of sadness for her disappearance, my mind was racing with the reason it had happened.
Were there others about to disappear? Was I going to turn into sand too? My eyes darted around nervously.
The cat-eared man then quietly said, “The residents of this kingdom all had regrets at the end of their lives. When those regrets are gone, they disappear, just like she did...”
I guess he drops the quirk when he’s serious.
“...meow.”
You don’t have to force yourself, man. Regardless, thanks to him, I was now sure of it.
“This kingdom is the afterlife... I-I died...”
For some time, I’d had a feeling that this might be the afterlife. I’d woken up in a completely different place, and waking up in the afterlife made more sense than teleporting to a distant land. There was also a low chance that I was reincarnated once more.
I didn’t know the afterlife existed. This is my second time dying, but it’s the first I’ve heard of it. My first death was a traffic accident, and my second was... Why did I die? Sure, a regular old college student will die if she’s hit by a car, but how do you kill Yumiella Dolkness?
I was fine when I reentered the atmosphere from space with nothing but the clothes on my back, and I would probably be fine even if I drowned in a smelting furnace. With that said, it would take something quite mighty for me to be dead. What is it...? I couldn’t come up with anything, nor could I confirm if I was right with my memories fuzzy.
“I don’t remember how I died...”
“That’s just how it is, meow. Be-fur I knew it, I woke up here, meow.”
“Do all dead people come here?”
Mr. Cat Ears’s face clouded over upon hearing my question. He probably knew what I wanted to find out.
“It’s hard for me to say this, but you shouldn’t try to reunite with anyone important to you.” The man forgot to use his speech quirk again, but I wasn’t satisfied with his response.
I mean, after several decades, Patrick and Eleanora will reach the end of their lifespans, and they’ll have to come here.
“But this is the afterlife, right? As long as I wait, I’ll be reunited with Patrick, right?!”
The cat-eared man just silently shook his head.
Why not?
The one to answer my question was the king of Twilight, who’d finished his silent prayer. “The Kingdom of Twilight is indeed beyond death, but it isn’t the afterlife. Let me explain this world to you.”
The calico meowed, but I couldn’t react to the sound of a cat I loved so much. I simply listened intently to what the hero had to say.