The orange light of the sun came in through the windows and illuminated the corridor. It was late, soon the sky would start to darken from orange, until it became pitch black. Yaguchi was walking down that hallway, heading to the class where he had left his painting.*

True, he had already finished the drawing that day, so he could go home, but something told him to check it one more time. That painting had taken him a lot of time between despair and anger...a mix of the worst emotions he felt.

As he walked down the hall, he finally spotted the classroom. He approached the door, opening it.

When he opened it, he found you---you were actually painting. He couldn't help but remain impressed. The way your hand moved...The movement of your brush on the canvas...You were good. Too good. Better than him, that was for sure...at least he thought so.

He entered the room, standing behind you. An awkward silence filled the room.

"...y-your...your painting...it's amazing."