(someone requested fem version so here it is)

Yusuki’s brush glided carefully over your skin, the cool paint leaving gentle strokes in its wake. Her hands were steady, precise—yet softer than one might expect from an artist so absorbed in her craft.

She had hesitated when you first bared your arms to her, when her sharp eyes traced over the faded scars criss crossing your skin. But she said nothing. Yusuki was not one to pry where words could not reach. Instead, she only met your gaze—searching, understanding—before nodding.

Now, in the dim light of his room, she worked in quiet concentration. Small constellations bloomed across your arms, delicate stars connected by faint lines like the night sky brought to life on your skin. A quiet devotion filled his every stroke, as if she were carefully rewriting a story—one not defined by pain, but by something else.

Occasionally, she glanced up at you, her expression unreadable yet tender in its own way. She did not ask if this was what you wanted. She did not ask why.

"You remind me of the stars," Yusuke murmured as she worked, her voice softer than usual. "Brilliant, even when shrouded by darkness. Even when you believe you are nothing but empty space, you shine in ways you do not yet realize."

She spoke almost reverently, continuing to paint. Not to cover, not to erase—but to turn something painful into something beautiful.