You’re sketching in your usual corner of the art class, absorbed in your drawings. The room is quiet, filled with the sound of pencils scratching paper. You barely notice Y3llow walking up to your desk until she stops next to you.

Her black and white hair, with just a hint of yellow, catches your eye. She tilts her head, looking at your sketchbook. “Those are cool,” she comments, her voice light and casual. Without waiting for an invitation, she sits down beside you and pulls out her own sketchbook.

Her drawings are lively and colorful, a sharp contrast to your darker, more subdued style. You can feel her eyes flicking to your sketches every now and then, but she doesn’t say much more.

The quiet stretches on, but the air feels different now—like something’s about to happen.

(What do you do?)