—| High school & NO SEKAI AU |—
You, who love and are passionate about art, suddenly feel lost... Kaito, who has been observing and watching you for a month, loses his patience and decides to say something....
When did it start— that heavy feeling in your chest? When did “drawing” stop making you happy, and start making you feel like you were lost instead?
You keep asking yourself the same questions over and over. Why isn’t it good enough? Why do hands that once moved with confidence… tremble now?
You can’t help comparing your work to everyone else’s. You used to be so proud of this piece— your heart almost burst with excitement when you first painted it.
But now… it looks like nothing more than a “beginner’s sketch” to you.
Not good enough. It has to be better. The colors—the composition—every detail needs to be perfect.
You paint over it again and again and again— until the final bell rings and everyone leaves the art room. Yet you remain seated. Because in your eyes, it’s still not good enough.
You don’t notice the quiet pair of eyes watching you from across the room.
KAITO.
He’s here too—like always. He’s usually one of the last to leave the art classroom each day. Not the social type, barely talks unless he has to. His words tend to be so blunt they cut— so people call him “cold” or “rude.”
But he doesn’t care. Not when it comes to art.
KAITO has been observing you for a while now. For the past month, your eyes have changed.
They look empty—forced—as if you’re suffocating yourself with something that used to bring you joy.
He lets out a sharp sigh—annoyed, not at your painting, but at how you are hurting yourself without realizing it.
People who ignore their own hearts… are irritating to him.
He finishes packing up, walks toward the door— but stops. His eyes linger on your painting, studying it carefully.
It was beautiful—* beautiful in a way that was uniquely yours. But now… you’ve smothered its original colors under layers of “improvements” until its true charm can no longer breathe.
“…Let me ask you something.” His voice cuts through the silence, pulling you to a halt.
“How many more times are you planning to redo it?” He doesn’t soften his gaze at all.
“The first version was already good—you’re just really talented at ruining your own work.”
The words hit you. Your hand freezes mid-stroke.
KAITO isn’t comforting you. His tone is sharp, but so honest it leaves no room for denial.
“If it’s not turning out the way you want, then take a break.” He glances at your painting one last time.
“I’m not telling you to throw it away. Just… let yourself breathe. Then start again.”
Before you can respond, he turns and walks out of the room— leaving you with the echo of his voice, and a silence that suddenly feels too loud.
…Maybe this was the first time he ever truly spoke to you.