Oil On Canvas

“Then the kid is cute, isn’t he?”Dojin looked at the man in front of him. He had the perfectly composed appearance of a man it was hard to imagine ever having had a childhood.No, even if he had had a childhood, he probably wore a tailored suit from the start, smiling with a hint of mischief, drinking formula from a teacup, lifting his finger to ask for one more serving—such was the refined impression he gave.Unlike Luca Orsini, who seemed never to have had even a single cute moment in his life, the child in the painting was like a rosy-cheeked angel. Despite the anxiety and fear reflected in his eyes, which set the painting apart from just another portrait.“He’s absolutely adorable. Though it’s hard to believe Marisa Orsini wanted a cute daughter.”Critics and certain gossips speculated about the reason Marisa, who was single and childless, painted My Beloved Daughter. Some claimed it revealed a hidden maternal instinct, others that it reflected a troubled relationship with Signora Orsini, painted through her childhood memories, or even that she had a real daughter she kept hidden.The strongest theory, however, was that the painting represented Marisa’s twisted maternal desire—someone who both wanted a child yet feared it deeply.“Honestly, why would Marisa Orsini even need something like maternal love? Art suits her much better than children.”“As if she would have wanted a child.”A cold, mocking laugh escaped the man.“What would such a difficult person want with a child? It would be a disaster.”“…But it’s titled My Beloved Daughter.”“No, it’s not.”“Are you saying my Italian is lacking?”“Rather, Marisa Orsini’s sense of humor is dreadful. She didn’t love anyone that deeply, didn’t have relationships close enough to warrant possessive pronouns, and certainly had no daughter.”Though the title only had three words, this man—her supposed nephew—denied every one of them. Naturally, Dojin was intrigued; it was one of his favorite paintings and an artwork whose true meaning remained unclear.“So who is she then, this daughter? Was Marisa Orsini projecting her relationship with Signora or with her own past self?”“What? She wasn’t that kind of person.”“Then a hidden daughter?”“Truly, we ought to be thankful such a miserable soul doesn’t exist in this world.”“Then who is it?”Dojin was out of questions, having rejected every theory the world speculated about. Without intending it, he showed his frustration to the illustrious Orsini heir. It hadn’t been on purpose, but since there was no reply, he braced himself, half-expecting the man to be offended.“It’s me.”“…What?”“It’s me, that child.”His tone was flat. The way he nodded at the painting, as if dismissing trash, was so graceful Dojin almost missed the words.“You’re saying that’s you, Mr. Orsini?”Dojin repeated, feeling like he was missing something. He didn’t need to look to know; his eyes must be wide with surprise, almost stupidly so. He compared Luca to the child in the painting.‘They… do resemble each other, I guess?’Breaking it down, there was no rule that said the child in the painting couldn’t be Luca Orsini as a child.They shared the same emerald-green eyes that sparkled with a hint of green, the same platinum-blonde hair, almost silver. But while those two aspects were the same, everything else differed.The child in the painting had much longer hair and much paler skin. The terrified expression in the painting was something present-day Luca Orsini, who wouldn’t flinch even if the world split in two, couldn’t possibly replicate. And on top of that, he wore a white linen dress.“So… about the gender.”“I never changed it, nor have I ever wanted to, not once in my life.”Dojin’s tentative question was immediately shut down.“Marisa would say that sometimes—‘Be my daughter, you’re… so pretty.’”As if he hated even uttering the word “pretty,” Luca’s expression twisted as though he’d spoken an unspeakable truth. For a man who was likely over six-foot-three, such a title was clearly unpleasant.“She knew I hated it. That’s why she made me wear those clothes. With the long hair, too.”“I see.”If true, then it made sense that Luca Orsini would describe Marisa as “difficult.”Having spent years in Italy, Dojin had long since mastered the art of asking questions and giving cues like a skilled interviewer. But this time, he struggled to decide what to say.“Well… you do look rather doll-like.”Dojin had chosen his words carefully, guessing he wouldn’t appreciate being called “cute” or “pretty.”It wasn’t the best choice, but Dojin thought it was better than silence—until he saw Luca Orsini’s expression harden with displeasure.‘It’s not like I said anything offensive.’The man’s unpredictable personality was plain to see, ignoring conversational cues as he pleased but frowning at others at his convenience.Still, Dojin was a socially adept soul. He also genuinely liked the painting. There was no one else in the world who knew as much about it as Luca Orsini.“So why do you look like you’re about to cry in that painting?”“Are you familiar with Goya’s Saturn Devouring His Son?”It was a hard painting to ignore for anyone even slightly interested in art. Once seen, it was unforgettable. Dojin nodded.“That damned Marisa Orsini showed me that painting, saying she’d devour me like that if I didn’t behave.”His elegant face twisted for a moment. It was more human than his usual expressionless face, though his noble scowl almost seemed rehearsed.“I hardly think it’s a painting you’d show a six-year-old, don’t you, Dojin?”Even if he wasn’t asking for a response, Dojin couldn’t disagree with Luca’s opinion.‘Certainly not something you’d show a six-year-old.’If paintings were rated like movies or TV shows, Goya’s disturbing work—showing a madman consuming his son’s limbs, blood dripping—would certainly be restricted for mature audiences.‘So, that’s it.’Young, angelic Luca Orsini had essentially been threatened by his aunt, and in a particularly sadistic way at that.‘It’s a bit much.’Still, between the great Marisa Orsini and this persistent, difficult man, Dojin had to side with Marisa without hesitation.“Is it such a flaw for an artist to have quirks?”“Heh.”Luca’s scoff was a bit intimidating. Then Dojin remembered that Marisa Orsini was dead and had no influence over his position.Feeling a bit late to the realization, Dojin added a sort of half-hearted apology.“I’m not saying Marisa Orsini did the right thing, but… I suppose I do agree that it borders on child abuse.”“A true fan, aren’t you?”Perhaps because it was obvious he was forcing the words, Luca interrupted with a dismissive laugh. Then he turned his body fully towards Dojin.“Is this really your favorite painting?”“Yes.”“Even knowing I was the model? That it wasn’t out of love or because I was her daughter?”‘What does that matter?’The man had an odd way about him, especially in how he always seemed to steer the conversation in puzzling directions.“When did I ever say I liked the title?”Dojin chose a polite tone.After all, thanks to the man before him, he had become the second person in the world who understood this painting best.“Even if a painting’s title is inspired by a young nephew being threatened with Goya’s work, I doubt that would affect the artwork’s value or my preference for it. Though My Beloved Daughter does leave more to the imagination. And, honestly, Mr. Orsini, there isn’t much in this painting that could really hint at you.”The roundabout comment ultimately boiled down to: What are you, really?“Dojin.”Dojin flinched at the call of his name. Maybe he’d been a bit too blunt. Regret always hit him too late. Couldn’t he hold his tongue? He tried, but carelessness always seemed to slip out far too easily.“Yes?”“I have one right concerning this painting.”The man who said this was smiling faintly.Dojin returned the smile, hoping to make up for his earlier impudence.“What right is that?”“If I don’t like it, I can toss it into the canal. Anytime. I’m giving you that right.”“Pardon?”“It’s something Marisa said. That was my sixth birthday present.”Present.At that simple word, Dojin’s mouth fell open. Luca gestured toward the painting with a nod.“So, strictly speaking, this isn’t part of the Cà D’oro’s collection. While it is essentially on permanent loan, it’s still mine on paper, a piece I lent to them. I handed it over for the museum display at my grandmother’s coaxing right after I got it, but honestly, I don’t feel the least bit sentimental about it.”From what he gathered, it was true that Luca Orsini wasn’t particularly attached to the piece. Still, knowing its estimated value, who wouldn’t feel at least some affection for it?“Your expression is more colorful than I’d expected.”At the comment, Dojin finally closed his gaping mouth.Even if not now, it was still astonishing how someone from a wealthy, art-collecting noble family with a famous painter for an aunt could have such a scale to their life. Life’s unfairness was hardly new, but he felt it keenly all over again.‘We live in different worlds.’They occupied the same time and space, yet here was someone for whom a piece by a celebrated painter was a childhood gift from their aunt.Dojin thought back on his own sixth birthday, when Bae Dojin, the youngest in a middle-class Seoul family, had received a toy car that transformed into a robot.It wasn’t enough to feel defeated, so Dojin was just fascinated.When you grow up in a remarkable family, with great expectations and ample support, you turn into someone like him, he thought.“Whenever I’m in Venice, I keep an eye out for the right opportunity. When and how to throw that irritating painting into the canal so it’s properly ruined.”Though it seemed rather petty considering his standing.‘If he’s going to ruin it, he might as well give it to me.’As Dojin swallowed the words that had risen to the tip of his tongue, Luca gave a slight smile.“There’s no one here but us, so right now seems like as good a time as any.”“Sorry? Hold on, hey.”The Marisa Gallery contained only Dojin and Luca. It was a shocking statement in two ways.First, that Luca Orsini had referred to the two of them as “us,” and second, that he didn’t sound like he was joking about discarding the artwork right then and there. Dojin forced a laugh, pretending he’d taken it as a joke.“I’d rather not be implicated as an accomplice. Could you at least wait until I’m not around?”“I’m the one who’ll be throwing the painting, and the security cameras will catch it all anyway, so why would you be implicated as an accomplice?”“I might be questioned for failing to protect it. I’m just a low-level employee here, after all.”“That’s not really my concern.”The man’s slightly downcast gaze was elegance itself. His smugness was unparalleled. No, it was precisely his flawless elegance that made him so insufferable.The winter sunlight streaming through the large window lit Luca Orsini’s handsome face like a spotlight. He gazed unhurriedly out the window.‘Is he serious? Now? Is he actually going to toss it?’Cà D’oro.True to its name, it had been the residence of the Orsini family until about a century ago.That was why most of the exhibition rooms had large windows—something typically avoided in museums. The Marisa Gallery was no exception. Through the window, a blue canal with passing gondolas was visible.Dojin felt a sense of duty to prevent a loss to humanity.“Why do you dislike this painting so much?”“If you were me, do you think you’d like it?”“I’m not sure about that, but if you dislike it so much, why loan it out at all? You could hang it in your home where no one could see it.”“You’d hang something that bothers you that much in your home?”If it were worth at least several billion won, he figured he wouldn’t mind seeing it every day, and even if it did bother him, he’d probably still keep it up.But it was unlikely a privileged young master with blue blood running through his veins would understand such a perspective.“How about selling it someday?”“That’s an option. It’s a fairly well-known piece.”“If you plan to sell it for a high price, you know you’ll need to keep it in good condition, right?”“I mean, I could sell it if I wanted, but making money off a painting that bothers me…”Luca tilted his head. His gaze was one of aristocratic boredom.“Do you think I’d really miss that money?”Six million dollars. Roughly 7.3 billion won. That was the auction price of one of Marisa Orsini’s lesser-known works.Dojin had once tried to estimate how long he’d need to work to afford a Marisa Orsini painting for his own home. It seemed impossible in this lifetime. It was a cleanly out-of-reach price. And yet, the person who owned one of her most famous pieces was saying this right in front of him.If money wasn’t an issue, he’d have to try another approach.“Aren’t you worried about the backlash?”Dojin muttered, imagining himself as one of the many who’d be there to cast the first stone if he actually did it.“If someone broke a cup they owned just because they disliked it, would that be wrong? There are so many important things in the world; who am I to care about public backlash?”“Is there really a need to leave such a regrettable mark on art history?”“Frankly, I’m not all that interested in art history. I’m just a businessman who plays with money.”A moment ago, he’d said he didn’t need the money, and now he was calling it a money game. And he made his living in art auctions despite his disinterest. Dojin clenched his teeth.“Can you not throw it away? I really love that painting.”The strategic argument ended quickly, leaving only an appeal to his sentiment. He knew the unyielding expression in Luca’s eyes meant he wouldn’t budge, but he tried anyway.“Are you saying that your affection for this painting could counterbalance the unpleasantness it causes me?”‘Why not?’There would be plenty of people who loved the piece, and Luca Orsini would likely be the only one to feel resentment or distaste toward it.The problem was that he owned it.Neither logic nor emotion could reduce Luca’s disdain for the painting. All that was left was a realistic response.“If you really must, if you feel absolutely compelled to damage it, why not go for a different method than throwing it into the canal? Maybe cut it with a knife instead.”“You’re suggesting I cut up my childhood portrait?”In hindsight, it was understandable if he found it unsettling. Though he didn’t see much difference between slashing it and tossing it into a canal.From Dojin’s standpoint, it was a pragmatic suggestion—restoring water damage would be far trickier than repairing a ripped canvas. If he objected, there was only one option left.“If you really must… throw it into the canal after I leave.”“Hmm?”“Anyway, it’s an important piece, it’s still under lease, and the insurance should be solid, so a diver will go retrieve it. Then I can restore it. Since it’s a piece I like, there’s no downside for me.”At that response, Luca Orsini simply looked at Dojin. Dojin felt a bit of cold sweat on his back, but he hadn’t said anything wrong.“I’ve just been doing cleaning work lately, so I needed something to spark a bit of a challenge.”Fine. If he wanted to do it, then so be it; he would handle his own tasks. Thinking that way, Dojin honestly didn’t see a downside. Flood damage was tricky to handle, but because of that, the restorer could study the piece up close and work with it for a long time.He wondered if he should step aside if Luca decided to toss the painting into the canal, but a faint smile appeared on Luca Orsini’s lips.“Come to think of it, you specialize in oil painting restoration, don’t you? I saw you working on one in my grandmother’s room last time.”“Sorry?”“I was a little curious. How did you end up working on Oei Katsushika’s pieces?”“There are… various reasons.”Since it wasn’t exactly something to boast about, it wasn’t something he could talk about freely. The man didn’t press further and instead looked out the window, precisely at the canal.“If it falls into the canal, it won’t just get wet. The boats passing by might damage it as well.”“No matter how torn up it gets, as long as some fragments are intact, I can stitch it together. If you throw it away, I’ll be notified right away, and I doubt it’ll be too badly damaged.”“Such confidence. I figured you might be skilled.”“It’s not confidence; I’m just assessing the possibility.”Even as he replied, Dojin found it a bit strange.Luca acted less like a thug planning to toss a masterpiece into a canal and more like a client commissioning him.“Marisa never really liked restoration. She preferred things to fade naturally. If you’re a fan, shouldn’t you respect her wishes?”Luca Orsini waited, as if expecting an answer, with a strange look of anticipation on his face.‘What’s with him, seriously?’Did he mean for Dojin to make a proper rebuttal? Though he didn’t want to, a stubborn defiance surged within him.“I’m sorry, but she’s already been gone for twenty years. Also, I honestly can’t believe you, given your personal grudge against the painting. This isn’t a matter of preference, is it? Restoration, I mean.”“So, the artist didn’t want it, but it’s not a matter of preference?”“Once a work is released into the world, it’s not solely the artist’s anymore. Think about it: it’s unlikely that Sorolla would’ve liked his pieces feeding the auctioneers’ pockets, for example.”It was a roundabout way of saying that Luca and he were both just circling around the art world.An uncalled-for competitive spirit directed at someone out of his league. Although it was potentially offensive, Luca Orsini’s expression remained unchanged, allowing Dojin to continue speaking.“In comparison, restoration feels a bit more conscientious, something fitting for the public good.”“In the end, it sounds like you’re saying I’m rather unconscientious.”To be fair, there was a bit of that implication, but there was no need to admit it.“That’s not what I meant. Isn’t it better for a beautiful work to be well-maintained and seen by many?”Luca Orsini’s expression at Dojin’s words was hard to read.He still didn’t look displeased. If anything, his expression was like a lifeless mask, polite and inhuman. That slight silence and expression made Dojin’s heart race.“In any case.”Luca’s gaze lingered leisurely, openly, on Dojin.“If I could discard it, I would’ve tossed it in the canal a long time ago. I can’t get rid of it; not now. The foundation would make a fuss, Signora’s blood pressure isn’t great, and the family would sue right away. It’d be a mess.”“Then why did you even bother…?”Picking a fight with me, you damn bastard.Heat flushed his face. It felt like all his jabs had been aimed at empty air. Luca’s smug smile cast over his face was all he got in response to his grumbling.“It just seemed like you’re excessively fond of the piece.”Ah, so that’s why.Just to watch him flail alone.So in other words…‘Was he making fun of me?’He wanted to rip that sneering smile right off. What kind of person acts like that? For a moment, Dojin even ran through emergency restoration procedures in his mind, envisioning a flood-damaged piece. He was someone he didn’t want to exchange words with.“Dojin, did you buy boots?”“Sorry?”“Boots.”He didn’t want to respond, but ignoring him wasn’t an option. That’s just how society worked.“Ah. Yes.”After trudging home yesterday with his legs soaked up to his knees, he’d bought three pairs. One for home, one for the Cà d’Oro restoration room, and another for that strange house.Luca’s advice had been helpful, but at this moment, Dojin didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of a thank you. Silently, he turned his gaze back to the painting.Dear My Daughter, then Portrait of Poison, then Sad Self-Portrait, and then…“Have you been keeping track of your keys lately?”“Of course. You know I’d had a bit too much to drink that time; normally—”He was someone who’d never once lost his keys.The words nearly slipped out, but thankfully, Dojin cut himself off. Of course, it wasn’t a totally safe situation, given what he’d already said.“So you’d had a bit too much to drink that time; normally?”Luca Orsini repeated Dojin’s words, slowly, without any change in tone. The man’s eyes gleamed with amusement, like a hawk spotting prey in midair. A cold bead of sweat ran down Dojin’s back.“Uh, I see my lunch break is over.”Right now, Marisa’s painting was the least of his worries. When a hawk’s eyes gleam, prey like Dojin had better run and hope for luck.