Ivy swiveled around in his arms, acting very much like this was the worst thing to ever happen to a baby like her. When Alec tried to give her one of her books, she absolutely refused to hold it.
The book Xander had picked up was from last year. He wouldn't have known it, having not gone through all of them, but it would have been unlikely to surprise Xander that all of the sketchbooks from 2013 onwards featured Daizi prominently. The 2028 sketchbook did not deviate from this. In the early pages of the book, she seemed playful and focused, like she ever was, but then traces of anxiety and fear creeped in around her eyes. Once, he captured her sitting on the bathroom floor, with her head tipped slightly back and a few strands of hair fallen loosely into her face. Throughout the pages, her belly grew, but for every sketch of her showing affection to Ivy before her birth were many more of her simply living her life. Wearing the ridiculous horse shirt, apparently yelling at Dark when she was struggling to get up off the bed, playing with Enkidu, cooking dinner, napping, and throughout all of them, even when she seemed stressed, anxious, or upset, she looked beautiful, like all of the light in the world emanated from within her. Anyone would look at the drawings and recognize it was Daizi, it looked just like her, but nobody could look at them and say any of the unkind things Daizi had been told all her life about how she looked. In all of these drawings, she moved with strength and grace (except, maybe, the one where she was unable to get off the couch without help, that one was a bit less graceful). Dark had done her justice in the fall of every lock of hair, in how the fabric draped across her body, in how the light hit her. In one, she was nursing, sketched at an angle where Ivy's head blocked most of what his teenage son might find distressing--nothing he wouldn't have seen when she wore a v-neck shirt. It was tender, Dark's illustration of the two of them. Dressed simply, and recently post-partum, Daizi nonetheless seemed regal, her long hair clipped up and she had one slender finger rubbing against her then-newborn baby's shoulder.
Many pages had multiple sketches on one, many had one which filled the page. Most were done only in graphite, but a few had been painted. Many near the end of the book had been: just looking at the painting he had done of Daizi holding Ivy after she was born, presumably based off the golden hour they spent just the three of them before telling anyone else in the world their baby had arrived, said all that could be said about what that moment meant to him. He hadn't omitted the sweat or exhaustion from his wife's face, but so many stronger, overwhelming and conflicting emotions were there, too. Similarly, he had painted when Cooger first held her and when the twins first met her.
And speaking of the twins: both Alec and Xander filled as many pages as Daizi, and far more than Ivy (not only because Ivy was around for a much smaller portion of the year, but because also he had much less time to draw. It was a wonder he had managed to do what he had throughout the months of October through December). Two pages were filled just of trying to capture their first talent show performance. Then there was when he had taken Xander horseback riding, and when he built those models with Alec. He caught Daizi teaching Alec to play the piano and Xander teaching himself leatherworking, he caught them goofing off and sitting silently in the same room together. There were so many little moments, like Xander's glares juxtaposed with Alec's grins. They were drawn together, they were drawn separately, with Cooger, with Daizi, with Enkidu. There were one or two of Peter, Sloan, Alec, and Xander in the lunch room. There was the time Alec, Daizi, and Xander were all sleeping together in his bed.
The carnival, when they watched movies together. All of it featured. Cooger maybe a bit less, because Dark had to remain so focused on his household that year, but there were still moments from when the two of them managed to find some time together. Some of his coworkers graced the pages, too. The art teacher, the music teacher, Milo's music teacher (although Milo, of course, did not appear, as he had not yet moved to the state yet).
Still, seemingly randomly throughout these moments of triumphs and peaceful normalcy, were the strange and upsetting drawings. Some of these, too, were painted. There were fires, living people's faces peeled away to reveal their skulls. They fought to keep their organs inside their bodies. There were never visible actions. People were never drawn being hurt. They just... were, and terribly so, in ways where it didn't make sense they still lived.
Sometimes, it was just a random image stuck amongst the others. Sometimes there was a mix of both. Sometimes there were pages and pages without any of these weirder ones.
Never once did Dark draw himself.