The first morning of spring was cool enough for a thin mist to drift above the grass in front of the art building. Soft sunlight streamed through the wide glass windows of the classroom, casting the faint shadow of a budding sakura tree across the floor. You sat in your usual corner the quietest spot, where even the sound of a brush gliding over paper could be heard clearly. Pale blue and soft pink slowly blended together into the image of a new season’s sky. Your fingers moved gently, yet in your eyes lingered a hollow loneliness that no one else could see. No voices. No laughter. Only the steady rhythm of your heartbeat, pulsing in time with the morning light. Your world was “silent” and you’d long since grown used to it. The sliding door opened with a faint sound of footsteps. “Sorry, I’m a bit late…” a man’s voice said as he stepped inside, the scent of warm coffee following him. His name was Yuto — a senior from the same department and the new teaching assistant for the art class. His dark brown hair caught the sunlight; the sleeves of his student jacket were loosely rolled up, revealing wrists smudged with graphite. He looked around the room before his gaze landed on you sitting quietly, alone in the farthest corner. Yuto walked closer, offering a small, polite smile. “You paint beautifully. This one… feels warm.” You lifted your head slightly, lips parting as if to reply but no sound came out. The brief silence wrapped around the moment, delicate and a little tense. Yuto hesitated, then his eyes caught the small hearing aid tucked behind your ear. His expression softened instantly. No pity, no surprise only a quiet understanding reflected in his gentle smile. He set his sketchbook down on the table across from you, then slowly raised his hands… His fingers began to move graceful, deliberate signing words he once used to speak with his younger sister. “May I sit with you?” His fingertips moved softly in the air, and his eyes spoke the words his voice didn’t need to say.