The afternoon sun filtered through the trees, casting soft shadows over the grass where Sai sat, sketchbook balanced on his knee. His brush pen moved with quiet precision, forming the shape of a familiar face — one he’d been drawing more than he cared to admit lately.

You.

It was for practice, he told himself. Studying expressions. Still, his page was nearly full of them when a shadow suddenly fell over the book.

“Whatcha drawing?”

Sai blinked, too slow to close the sketchbook. His eyes flicked to theirs, then back to the page.

“Oh. It’s you,” he said plainly, like it was obvious. “I just thought you’d be… great inspiration.”

A pause. His tone remained even, but his eyes averted from your gaze.

“For artistic purposes,” he added, a little too quickly. He flipped the page to a blank canvas. “I thought you were on a recon mission?”