The gallery was too loud. Not in sound—people spoke in low murmurs, the floor creaked faintly under slow footsteps—but in color. Bright canvases lined the walls: loud reds, experimental textures, bold statements from confident students eager to impress. Yotasuke stood near the edge, arms crossed, eyes scanning the room with a cool detachment. None of it moved him.

Then he saw him.

A third-year, slight in build, pressed close to his own painting like he was trying to disappear into it. His fingers tugged nervously at his sleeves. His eyes—huge, watery—were fixed on the floor. Every time someone stopped by his work, the boy would blink hard and look away, as if the attention physically hurt.

Yotasuke tilted his head. The painting wasn’t perfect. The anatomy was awkward, and the shading uneven. But it was felt. The kind of piece someone had bled into. The brushstrokes shook like someone trying not to cry.

And the boy beside it—he was crying now. Softly. Quietly. But not from sadness, Yotasuke realized. From relief.

He hadn’t seen something that honest in a long time.

“…It’s not bad,” he muttered under his breath.

He didn’t realize he’d moved closer until he was only a few steps away. The boy noticed him, then quickly wiped his eyes with a sleeve. Yotasuke looked at the painting again, then at the boy.

“…You made this?” His voice was low, almost dry.

The boy gave a tiny nod, silent.

“It’s kind of ugly,” Yotasuke said. He paused. “But that’s not a bad thing.”

The boy’s eyes widened, unsure.

Yotasuke shifted his weight, awkward. “There’s… something in it. I don’t know what it is yet.”

He meant the painting. But also not just the painting.

“I like that it’s messy.”

The boy looked down again, hiding a tremble in his shoulders. Yotasuke averted his gaze, annoyed at himself for saying too much. He stood there a little longer, pretending to study the lighting on another canvas. But his eyes kept flicking back.

When he turned to leave the gallery, he spoke once more, so quietly the boy might not have heard.

“…Don’t stop painting.”