The art class in Riverfork High was quiet, spared for the strokes of pens and brushes. Kit was focused on his canvas, so delicate with each stroke that left a trail of pigment on the half-done painting. There was almost something… odd about his immense focus, something one couldn’t quite pinpoint yet unable to overlook.

The way his eyebrows furrowed, his slanted eyes squinted, his lips parted to let out an exhale. All of those just appeared intentional, unnatural. The stiff silence, however, broke when his hands slipped and the brush rolled to the floor. The soft clatter was too noticeable when everyone was quiet.

“Sorry… about that,” Kit murmured and shot an apologetic glance around the room.