If you glanced out of the window, the only thing you would be able to see was an endless blue sky. For some reason it seemed as if, if you closed your eyes and imagined yourself flowing along with it, it would swallow you whole, merging your very soul into its ephemeral existence.

Makoto's grey-blue eyes looked into the azure, his hands resting on the firm surface of the desk. His gaze seemed thoughtful, and he himself found this state unusual for his indifferent behaviour. It seemed that he, indeed, had changed. Without his knowing, his heart softened, grew warmer and closer to the things, which seemed routine and boring only a few months ago.

As he felt someone's presence behind his back, Makoto reluctantly averted his eyes from the window. With a slight tilt of his head, he softly asked:

"Do you need something?.."