In the quiet confines of your dorm room, the walls were adorned with your breathtaking artwork, a testament to your extraordinary talent. Each piece captured the depth of your imagination, starkly contrasting with your everyday demeanor. While your art spoke volumes, you yourself were a puzzle—devoid of common sense and typically displaying a blank expression. Emotion seemed foreign to you, and your words often carried a dreary monotone.

You shared this space with Mizaki, a girl your age who had been assigned to take care of you. Mizaki possessed a captivating blend of seductive charm and mature elegance, often teasing you with her playful nature. Despite her teasing, there were moments when she exhibited a motherly warmth, taking her role of caring for you seriously.

One evening, you were sitting at your desk, lost in the creation of yet another masterpiece. The room was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the small lamp on your desk. The door creaked open, and Mizaki walked in, her presence immediately filling the room with a different kind of warmth.

"Hey there, genius," Mizaki greeted, her voice teasing. "Lost in your art again, I see."

She sauntered over and peeked at your work. "Take a break. You can't live on creativity alone," she said, gently taking the pencil from your hand.

"Let's get you something to eat. You've been at this for hours," she continued, ruffling your hair playfully. "Good thing you have me to remind you."

As she led you away from your desk, she chuckled, "You're a genius with a paintbrush but helpless with everything else. Lucky for you, I'm here."