“Didn’t think I’d see you here.” Emi said with the kind of casualness that felt out of place.

Ryuya only glanced at her.

“I figured you’d gone back home or something,” She added, though her tone lacked its usual edge, landing somewhere between observation and uncertainty.

“That was the plan.” He answered quietly.

Emi stepped further into the room, her bag slung over one shoulder.

Sanae glanced up from her painting, her brow furrowing slightly.

She got up from the stool.

“Ryuya was here to get his sketchbook.” She said as she stepped towards Emi. 

Emi’s gaze seemed to sharpen, just enough for Ryuya to notice.

“Didn’t we put it in the cabinet yesterday?” Sanae asked.

“Did we?” Emi retorted dismissively.

Sanae’s brow knit faintly.

“I could’ve sworn it was there when I left yesterday.” 

Ryuya carefully looked at Emi, in class she had this confident aura, the kind that lets you know how important she feels—yet here, something was different, unnamable.

“Maybe it got moved,” Emi said quickly as she turned toward Ryuya, that same sharpness lingering before it faded into an unreadable expression.

“I’ll check with the others later,” Sanae said before she shifted toward the easel again.  

Emi’s gaze lingered on him for a moment. They stared at each other a second too long.

Finally—she stepped further into the room, exchanging greetings with the other students on the way.

The room’s energy steadied, Sanae sat beside him again, her gaze flicking toward him briefly, her eyes full of apology. 

“I’m sorry,” Sanae said softly, her tone quiet enough not to disturb the room’s hum. His spine straightened, just barely, like her words rippled in him. 

“I’ll make sure to find it, I promise.” She added again.

“It’s not a big deal.” He said, his tone light. Sanae's gaze lingered on him for a beat.

“You’re welcome to stay—maybe it’ll pop up—or someone will?” she said thoughtfully, the words hanging in the air, deliberate but light.

Ryuya didn’t protest.

Across the room, he’d notice Emi shifting in her seat, her presence a sharp contrast to the subdued atmosphere. Her gaze occasionally flicked toward him as if checking if he was still there. 

Sanae straightened slightly, turning toward him with a faint smile.

“Let me— I mean.." Her words tripped,

"I could show you around if you want?” she offered timidly.

Ryuya glanced around the room before nodding. As he rose, a few glances were shot at him, but none lingered for long.

Sanae led the way, guiding him toward the other easels at the edge of the room. She gestured toward a large canvas propped against the wall.

“This is Kai’s submission.”  A landscape, precise and intricate. Ryuya’s gaze lingered on the painting briefly, but he moved on without commitment.

They passed another easel, this one holding a partially finished still life. Muted tones of fruits and ceramics pasted on a dark background.

“This one’s from Hana—” Sanae said simply. “But it’s just practice.”

His gaze shifted to the next painting propped against the wall.

“This is Nao’s,” Sanae offered. “She’s new to abstraction but she’s trying to improve.”

Ryuya’s gaze sharpened. A swirl of colors on a smaller canvas.

His eyes swept the piece, the strokes felt awkward, the shapes abstract but not in a familiar way—as though they’d been carefully placed to give the impression of chaos.

He lingered, unsure if the discomfort came from the piece or his inability to make sense of it. Sanae seemed to notice, as her gaze flicked toward him briefly.

Finally, they stopped near the windows, where a canvas leaned carefully against the sill.

The painting was immediately different—clean, deliberate, and polished in a way that set it apart from everything else in the room.

“And this one is Emi’s.” Sanae said, her tone steady yet Ryuya could have guessed as much—A portrait of a young girl, her features rendered with almost photographic precision—an amalgam of flawless precision. From the subtle texture of her skin to the light catching in her eyes. 

The backdrop, a tangle of flowers, just as meticulously painted, each petal and shadow carefully rendered. 

For a moment, he simply stared, his expression unreadable. 

“It’s great, right?” Sanae said, her voice carrying an easy warmth.

Ryuya didn’t answer. His gaze lingered on the painting, his thoughts muddled. The painting stared at him, whispering demands, expectations, the more his gaze lingered, the more pressure built up in his skull. 

Sanae glanced at him, her expression softening. “You don’t think so?” she asked lightly, her tone more curious than accusatory.

Ryuya shook his head faintly, but the gesture was more about clearing his head than answering her question.

“I don’t know.” he murmured finally.

Sanae looked at him, her eyes conveying something heavier, unspoken, like she was waiting for him to say something more. 

His gaze sharpened, searching for the right words. “Does it feel wrong somehow?” She asked. For some reason, the question felt like a challenge. Ryuya glanced at her for a moment, a subtle intensity carried in her eyes as she looked at him.

“I don’t know—It looks how I’d expect it to look.”

Across the room, Emi’s head lifted, her gaze flicking toward them. She didn’t say anything, but her attention was unmistakable.

Sanae didn’t seem to notice the shift, or maybe she didn’t care. She seemed deep in thoughts after he spoke.

“Like you’d expect it to look.. hmm..” she echoed.

Ryuya blinked, his gaze returned to the painting. Something strange pulled him in, filling him with a nagging feeling he couldn’t place. 

The faintest sound of footsteps broke the moment.

“Talking about me behind my back?” Emi said lightly—her expression betraying a sharp curiosity, though the edge in her voice wasn’t lost on him.

Sanae glanced at him, unfazed by Emi’s arrival.

“Just admiring your work,” she replied easily, stepping aside to give Emi space by the window. 

“Ryuya was giving me his impression.” She added.

Emi’s gaze shifted to him, her eyes narrowing slightly, as if trying to extract something unspoken. 

“Anything I should know?” She asked, her tone carefully neutral.

“Not really.” Ryuya said, his voice low, deliberate.

Emi’s expression flickered with something unreadable before she looked back at the painting. Her posture straightened subtly, almost as if she were bracing herself.

“Come on, you don’t have to sugarcoat it—” she said, her tone measured but tight, yet the tension around the words didn't lie.

“Tell me what’s missing,” she pressed.

“I didn’t say it was missing anything,” Ryuya replied quickly, his gaze flicking toward her. Emi’s brow lifted, skepticism creeping into her expression.

“I think it’s interesting—” Sanae interjected, her tone soft.

“It’s got this… energy. Like it’s really focused and impressive but it feels heavy.” She glanced at Ryuya, her expression neutral but curious. “That’s what you meant, right?”

Ryuya's shoulders moved on their own, his gaze attentive to Emi.

Emi’s brow furrowed slightly. “Huh.. So you guys are saying that it’s so good that it’s bad?”

Are we ? Ryuya thought, his eyebrows knitting slightly, Sanae glanced back at him before she put her hand on her chin. 

“I guess we are..?” Sanae said tentatively with a playful smile.

Emi scoffed, crossing her arms. 

“It has to be the dumbest thing I’ve heard today.” 

Sanae laughed and the room stilled a bit, the tension getting quieter. Emi smiled too, moving away from the painting and leaning against one of the empty desks, her arms still crossed below her chest.

“Maybe I should make another then..” She said. It seemed to have caught Sanae off, her expressing oozing with a kind of perplexity that felt out of place. “Where’s that coming from?” Sanae asked simply.

Emi shrugged but something in her posture wavered.

“I’ve got nothing to do now that this one’s done.” Emi's word came out even, too neat.

“It must be boring for you,” Sanae murmured.

Emi smirked faintly, shifting her gaze to Ryuya.

“What do you think, ghost? Should I make a new one?”

Ryuya brow knit reflexively—he didn't respond, his mind too caught up on the nickname and its implications. Emi didn’t push.

Sanae sat on the desk next to her. “Well, at least you have a backup if you don’t finish in time.”  She said—Ryuya was the only one standing now.

“That’s true,” Emi said, her voice softening. “I think I’d make it at home this time, though.” She quickly added.

Emi's gaze averted them. 

“What’s wrong with making it here?” Sanae asked with light curiosity.

“Nothing,” Emi said quickly. “Just think I’d need to be alone for this one.” Her words hung briefly in the air before she added, “Anyway, I think I’m gonna head out.”

Sanae nodded lightly. “Okay, I think I’ll stay a bit longer." She gazed at him. "What about you ?”

He shrugged, “I don’t mind,” he answered. unbothered by the prospect.

Emi straightened, pulling the keys from her pocket and handing them to Sanae. “You can handle locking up.” Her gaze lingered briefly on the room before she turned toward the door.

The faint sound of her footsteps echoed as she left, the air in the room feeling lighter in her absence.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here.” Emi said with the kind of casualness that felt out of place.

Ryuya only glanced at her.

“I figured you’d gone back home or something,” She added, though her tone lacked its usual edge, landing somewhere between observation and uncertainty.

“That was the plan.” He answered quietly.

Emi stepped further into the room, her bag slung over one shoulder.

Sanae glanced up from her painting, her brow furrowing slightly.

She got up from the stool.

“Ryuya was here to get his sketchbook.” She said as she stepped towards Emi. 

Emi’s gaze seemed to sharpen, just enough for Ryuya to notice.

“Didn’t we put it in the cabinet yesterday?” Sanae asked.

“Did we?” Emi retorted dismissively.

Sanae’s brow knit faintly.

“I could’ve sworn it was there when I left yesterday.” 

Ryuya carefully looked at Emi, in class she had this confident aura, the kind that lets you know how important she feels—yet here, something was different, unnamable.

“Maybe it got moved,” Emi said quickly as she turned toward Ryuya, that same sharpness lingering before it faded into an unreadable expression.

“I’ll check with the others later,” Sanae said before she shifted toward the easel again.  

Emi’s gaze lingered on him for a moment. They stared at each other a second too long.

Finally—she stepped further into the room, exchanging greetings with the other students on the way.

The room’s energy steadied, Sanae sat beside him again, her gaze flicking toward him briefly, her eyes full of apology. 

“I’m sorry,” Sanae said softly, her tone quiet enough not to disturb the room’s hum. His spine straightened, just barely, like her words rippled in him. 

“I’ll make sure to find it, I promise.” She added again.

“It’s not a big deal.” He said, his tone light. Sanae's gaze lingered on him for a beat.

“You’re welcome to stay—maybe it’ll pop up—or someone will?” she said thoughtfully, the words hanging in the air, deliberate but light.

Ryuya didn’t protest.

Across the room, he’d notice Emi shifting in her seat, her presence a sharp contrast to the subdued atmosphere. Her gaze occasionally flicked toward him as if checking if he was still there. 

Sanae straightened slightly, turning toward him with a faint smile.

“Let me— I mean.." Her words tripped,

"I could show you around if you want?” she offered timidly.

Ryuya glanced around the room before nodding. As he rose, a few glances were shot at him, but none lingered for long.

Sanae led the way, guiding him toward the other easels at the edge of the room. She gestured toward a large canvas propped against the wall.

“This is Kai’s submission.”  A landscape, precise and intricate. Ryuya’s gaze lingered on the painting briefly, but he moved on without commitment.

They passed another easel, this one holding a partially finished still life. Muted tones of fruits and ceramics pasted on a dark background.

“This one’s from Hana—” Sanae said simply. “But it’s just practice.”

His gaze shifted to the next painting propped against the wall.

“This is Nao’s,” Sanae offered. “She’s new to abstraction but she’s trying to improve.”

Ryuya’s gaze sharpened. A swirl of colors on a smaller canvas.

His eyes swept the piece, the strokes felt awkward, the shapes abstract but not in a familiar way—as though they’d been carefully placed to give the impression of chaos.

He lingered, unsure if the discomfort came from the piece or his inability to make sense of it. Sanae seemed to notice, as her gaze flicked toward him briefly.

Finally, they stopped near the windows, where a canvas leaned carefully against the sill.

The painting was immediately different—clean, deliberate, and polished in a way that set it apart from everything else in the room.

“And this one is Emi’s.” Sanae said, her tone steady yet Ryuya could have guessed as much—A portrait of a young girl, her features rendered with almost photographic precision—an amalgam of flawless precision. From the subtle texture of her skin to the light catching in her eyes. 

The backdrop, a tangle of flowers, just as meticulously painted, each petal and shadow carefully rendered. 

For a moment, he simply stared, his expression unreadable. 

“It’s great, right?” Sanae said, her voice carrying an easy warmth.

Ryuya didn’t answer. His gaze lingered on the painting, his thoughts muddled. The painting stared at him, whispering demands, expectations, the more his gaze lingered, the more pressure built up in his skull. 

Sanae glanced at him, her expression softening. “You don’t think so?” she asked lightly, her tone more curious than accusatory.

Ryuya shook his head faintly, but the gesture was more about clearing his head than answering her question.

“I don’t know.” he murmured finally.

Sanae looked at him, her eyes conveying something heavier, unspoken, like she was waiting for him to say something more. 

His gaze sharpened, searching for the right words. “Does it feel wrong somehow?” She asked. For some reason, the question felt like a challenge. Ryuya glanced at her for a moment, a subtle intensity carried in her eyes as she looked at him.

“I don’t know—It looks how I’d expect it to look.”

Across the room, Emi’s head lifted, her gaze flicking toward them. She didn’t say anything, but her attention was unmistakable.

Sanae didn’t seem to notice the shift, or maybe she didn’t care. She seemed deep in thoughts after he spoke.

“Like you’d expect it to look.. hmm..” she echoed.

Ryuya blinked, his gaze returned to the painting. Something strange pulled him in, filling him with a nagging feeling he couldn’t place. 

The faintest sound of footsteps broke the moment.

“Talking about me behind my back?” Emi said lightly—her expression betraying a sharp curiosity, though the edge in her voice wasn’t lost on him.

Sanae glanced at him, unfazed by Emi’s arrival.

“Just admiring your work,” she replied easily, stepping aside to give Emi space by the window. 

“Ryuya was giving me his impression.” She added.

Emi’s gaze shifted to him, her eyes narrowing slightly, as if trying to extract something unspoken. 

“Anything I should know?” She asked, her tone carefully neutral.

“Not really.” Ryuya said, his voice low, deliberate.

Emi’s expression flickered with something unreadable before she looked back at the painting. Her posture straightened subtly, almost as if she were bracing herself.

“Come on, you don’t have to sugarcoat it—” she said, her tone measured but tight, yet the tension around the words didn't lie.

“Tell me what’s missing,” she pressed.

“I didn’t say it was missing anything,” Ryuya replied quickly, his gaze flicking toward her. Emi’s brow lifted, skepticism creeping into her expression.

“I think it’s interesting—” Sanae interjected, her tone soft.

“It’s got this… energy. Like it’s really focused and impressive but it feels heavy.” She glanced at Ryuya, her expression neutral but curious. “That’s what you meant, right?”

Ryuya's shoulders moved on their own, his gaze attentive to Emi.

Emi’s brow furrowed slightly. “Huh.. So you guys are saying that it’s so good that it’s bad?”

Are we ? Ryuya thought, his eyebrows knitting slightly, Sanae glanced back at him before she put her hand on her chin. 

“I guess we are..?” Sanae said tentatively with a playful smile.

Emi scoffed, crossing her arms. 

“It has to be the dumbest thing I’ve heard today.” 

Sanae laughed and the room stilled a bit, the tension getting quieter. Emi smiled too, moving away from the painting and leaning against one of the empty desks, her arms still crossed below her chest.

“Maybe I should make another then..” She said. It seemed to have caught Sanae off, her expressing oozing with a kind of perplexity that felt out of place. “Where’s that coming from?” Sanae asked simply.

Emi shrugged but something in her posture wavered.

“I’ve got nothing to do now that this one’s done.” Emi's word came out even, too neat.

“It must be boring for you,” Sanae murmured.

Emi smirked faintly, shifting her gaze to Ryuya.

“What do you think, ghost? Should I make a new one?”

Ryuya brow knit reflexively—he didn't respond, his mind too caught up on the nickname and its implications. Emi didn’t push.

Sanae sat on the desk next to her. “Well, at least you have a backup if you don’t finish in time.”  She said—Ryuya was the only one standing now.

“That’s true,” Emi said, her voice softening. “I think I’d make it at home this time, though.” She quickly added.

Emi's gaze averted them. 

“What’s wrong with making it here?” Sanae asked with light curiosity.

“Nothing,” Emi said quickly. “Just think I’d need to be alone for this one.” Her words hung briefly in the air before she added, “Anyway, I think I’m gonna head out.”

Sanae nodded lightly. “Okay, I think I’ll stay a bit longer." She gazed at him. "What about you ?”

He shrugged, “I don’t mind,” he answered. unbothered by the prospect.

Emi straightened, pulling the keys from her pocket and handing them to Sanae. “You can handle locking up.” Her gaze lingered briefly on the room before she turned toward the door.

The faint sound of her footsteps echoed as she left, the air in the room feeling lighter in her absence.