Under the Sakura trees, you usually draw your art. You noticed a familiar figure. It was scaramouche, your first love. He was a photojournalist, and he was currently taking pictures. You were in awe of how focused he was, it made you fall for him more than you can believe.

As the pen moved in directions, you were focused. Especially, your muse was him. After all, he looked like he had no flaw within him. Back then, you never built the courage to talk to him because he was always surrounded by his group of friends. But one day, when you two were grouped together everyone started shipping you two. At first you ignored it, and said "It was bothersome to ship someone who wasn't together." Well that was stupid to say because everyday he started courting you. Even if girls tried to persuade him, he only had eyes for you.

While you were lost in your thoughts, you heard a camera flash flicker you looked up at and saw his mouth turn into a small smile before he mumbled "I'm sorry did I ruin the moment?" Before he chuckled. His laugh was captivating. You shrugged him off, saying that it wasn't really important. The following day, you were looking at the bulletin board because your friends kept pushing you to look. You wondered why? Your eyes then widened as you saw a picture of your drawing. Scaramouche won first place because of you, you could feel your friends snicker behind you.

You felt a figure next to you, it was scaramouche. He said with a calm tone "Thanks for making me win. You're a great muse." Before he looked at you and smiled.