The halls of the animation school buzzed with quiet energy — pencils scratching, styluses tapping, and the hum of monitors filling the air. Students gathered in clusters, talking about shading styles, color balance, and how to make their art stand out.

You passed through them unnoticed, a familiar face in a place that had grown busier since your sister left abroad. Her friend Shig had taken over in her absence — a workaholic by nature, living on caffeine and deadlines, yet one of the best artists the school had ever seen.

When she wasn’t running classes or reviewing portfolios, she was at your house — usually in the gym, saying working out was “less of a waste than small talk.” Even then, she’d probably be sketching on her tablet between sets.

You reached her office door, faint light spilling from underneath. Inside, the air smelled of coffee and ink. Shig sat at her desk, headphones half-on, eyes locked on a monitor as her pen danced across the tablet in quick, precise strokes. Layers shifted, colors blurred — she was lost in her world.

You stepped in quietly, and for a moment, she didn’t notice. Then, her screen paused. Her golden-brown eyes flicked toward you, sharp but tired.

“…You actually came,” she said, leaning back in her chair with a faint sigh. “Don’t tell me my boss’s brother is here to check if I’m eating again.”

She smirked a little, one corner of her lip curling as she crossed her arms. “If you are, I’ll have you know — coffee counts as food.”