Originally, Yukio had planned to chat with Kiryuin a bit longer, but unfortunately, she had to return to class. He was rather surprised to learn she was the type to actually attend her lessons.
Evidently noting his silent assessment, Kiryuin tossed her hair and rolled her eyes, explaining that she blew through personal points at an alarming rate. She was basically living paycheck to paycheck, and the money spent renting the Kawasaki during the last special exam had already been a significant outlay.
With Kiryuin gone, Yukio also decided he had no further desire to wander around. He headed instead to the art classroom.
Indeed, AN High School offered arts and music classes once a month, not counted toward exams, giving students a rare chance to relax. However, due to missing a session during the Workplace Special Exam, the art teacher had scheduled two periods back-to-back today. She was a kindly looking middle-aged woman, and when Yukio showed up late, she simply let him take his seat without comment.
The theory portion had been covered in the previous period he'd skipped, so this class was all about letting students freely practice the newly taught techniques—namely oil painting. The teacher didn't strictly insist on perfect technique or layering; as long as students tried mixing and applying the paints, that was enough. Those not interested in pursuing this field could even skip painting altogether if they liked.
Yukio strolled over and seated himself beside Shiina, curious to see how this literary-minded girl would translate her creativity onto canvas. Naturally, Shiina had chosen a corner desk away from the crowd. Even though she'd made a few friends lately—thanks in part to Yukio—she still wasn't used to being in the midst of a busy group.
Since the teacher had introduced basic oil painting last period, now they were all supposed to create a piece. But there was only a blank canvas in front of Shiina.
"You haven't started?" Yukio teased, pointing at her pristine white canvas.
Shiina nodded softly, lowering her voice out of respect for the ongoing class. "Actually, I have a vivid imagination. Every time I read a book, the descriptions conjure up all sorts of landscapes, buildings, lighting, and characters in my head… But when it comes to putting those visions on paper, I just can't do it."
"Gotcha. Makes perfect sense," Yukio said, opening both hands as though conceding to the obvious. "It's a classic case of 'My head knows what to do, but my hands can't pull it off.'"
Shiina found his blunt phrasing amusing, letting out a faint giggle. After adjusting the angle of her canvas, she pushed it toward him. "In that case, would you like to paint something, Yukio?"
"Sure," he agreed readily. He grabbed a paint palette prepared by the teacher for each student and dipped a brush into the colorful paints.
Seeing how naturally he handled the palette, Shiina looked on with quiet amazement. 'Is Yukio actually well-versed in oil painting, too?' She watched him closely, fully expecting an impressive display of skill.
But the instant she fixed her eyes on the blank canvas, waiting for him to begin, she felt a sudden coolness against her cheek—like someone had dabbed something onto her skin.
Turning her head in surprise, Shiina realized that Yukio was standing there, brandishing the paintbrush with a mischievous grin. He'd used white oil paint to leave a small mark on her face.
"I'm not really any good at painting either," he said with a smirk, setting the brush and palette aside. "I just understand how to appreciate it. But seeing how soft and sweet you look, I couldn't resist playing around a bit."
"Yukio, you realize these oil paints are tough to clean off," Shiina pointed out calmly, though her expression was a mix of exasperation and amusement.
"Sorry." Yukio took hold of her small hand, rubbing gently across the back of it. "It's just that seeing you looking so soft and adorable… I felt this inexplicable urge to tease you a little."
Shiina puffed out her cheeks in mock anger, causing the dab of white paint to slide slightly downward. It looked for a moment as though she was truly upset—only to deflate in the next second. "You're impossible. Why do you have to be so awful?"
A faint blush colored her face as memories of his worse "behaviors" came to mind.
Just as Yukio was about to help her wipe the paint off and offer to accompany her to the restroom, Ibuki abruptly approached. Ever since he'd entered the art classroom, she'd been stealthily watching him from the sidelines, her gaze tracking him wherever he went.
Seeing Yukio sitting so easily beside Shiina, chatting and laughing, Ibuki felt a twinge of discomfort rise within her.
She understood exactly what it was: jealousy. But what could she do about it? Back during the Workplace Special Exam, when her class visited the aquarium, she had realized her feelings for Yukio.
But Shiina had beaten her to the punch—she was there first. No matter how much Ibuki couldn't stop thinking about him, it was unlikely that Yukio would reciprocate those feelings now. She knew that; she understood everything logically.
And yet, emotions and logic were two different things. Every time she saw Yukio, her eyes followed him involuntarily. Every time she heard him speak, she found herself straining to listen. And when she saw him joking around with Shiina, her heart felt an unexplainable, painful ache.
'It was downright maddening!' Ibuki silently raged at herself. She'd grown up being taught to face difficulties head-on—staying strong and never backing down. That was how a samurai daughter was supposed to be.
Deep down, Ibuki despised how she was sulking like this. But despite that, she still had no idea what to do.
'Wait—what were they up to now?' Why had Shiina suddenly shifted her canvas so it was harder to see? Because the canvas was fairly large and both were seated, Ibuki's line of sight was cut off.
'Could it be… they were using the canvas as a shield, intending to do something they shouldn't in the middle of art class?'
Images instantly flooded Ibuki's mind: Shiina and Yukio, hidden behind the easel in this bustling art room, gazing into each other's eyes with tender affection before kissing intimately…
That imagined scenario snapped Ibuki's self-control. By the time she realized what she was doing, she had already strode over to the two of them in wide, urgent steps. "What… what are you two doing?"
"Huh?" Yukio glanced at Ibuki, his expression perplexed. They weren't doing anything suspicious at all.
Shiina tilted her head in confusion. She had no idea what Ibuki meant, either.
But that small tilt gave Ibuki a full view of Shiina's face—slightly flushed, with a trail of white "paint" slowly sliding down from the corner of her mouth. Ibuki jolted backward, eyes widening in shock. "Wha—how could you… you two… doing that sort of thing in the art room… and leaving it on Shiina's face?!"
"Yukio, I always thought you were just wicked in the way you did anything to help your class win—but I never imagined… you'd be this perverted…"
Fortunately, their little corner was far from the other students, and Ibuki—though rattled—didn't shout loud enough for the class to overhear.
With those two breathless accusations, Ibuki turned and hurried away, mind spinning, desperate to find a place to calm down.
Yukio and Shiina exchanged bewildered looks, equally at a loss. 'What on earth was Ibuki rambling about?' Neither of them had the slightest clue.
"Wait… I think I get it." Yukio smacked his palm against his forehead. "Hiyori, right now, things look a bit… erm, off."
***
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