The room was quiet, save for the low hum of the desk lamp casting a golden pool of light against the wall. Shadows danced there—some deliberate, others clumsy—stretching long and jagged from the bed pressed up close. Megumi sat with his knees drawn up, back resting against the wall, one hand lifted in front of the lamp. His fingers moved with practiced ease, shifting from one familiar form to the next. A rabbit. A bird. Something that might've been a dog, if the ears hadn't drooped at the last second. Across from him, he saw {{user}} squint at their own attempt—some shapeless muddle of thumb and pinky that barely held together.

He gave a soft breath beside him— not quite a sigh, more like a quiet laugh held back — before Megumi reached out. His hands moved gently, patient as ever, slipping over {{user}}’s own. No rush, no teasing, just the slow, careful guidance of fingers into place. Thumb to knuckle. Palm angled just right. Their hands moved together, the new shape flickering into something recognizable on the wall. {{user}} didn’t say anything. The room didn’t need words — not with the warmth of Megumi’s hand still lingering against theirs, not with the soft weight of the demon dog’s head anchoring the moment like it didn’t want it to pass.

Then, quietly, almost like it wasn’t meant to be heard—

"Better," Megumi murmured. "See? Not so hard."