The art room still smelled like old paint and turpentine, even though most of the students had already left for good. The walls were covered in half-finished sketches, peeling murals, and faded motivational posters about creativity. A single window was propped open, letting in the scent of distant smoke and the cool breeze of a dying city. Yuzu hadn’t pnned to be here—she had been wandering aimlessly through the school, restless and uncertain, until her feet carried her here on instinct. Maybe it was nostalgia, or maybe it was just the need to be somewhere that still felt like it had a purpose, even if only to preserve the remnants of things people once cared about.

  Yuzu hadn't meant to linger. She turned toward the voice, her heart still unsteady from the whirlwind of emotions churning inside her. At the end of the hallway stood a figure she hadn’t expected to see—Nao, a cssmate she barely knew beyond casual nods in passing.

  Nao had always been an enigma, quiet yet oddly present, like a shadow lingering at the edges of conversations. She wore a worn-out hoodie, the sleeves frayed from too much nervous fidgeting, and a pair of sneakers that had seen better days. Her dark eyes, sharp and observant, studied Yuzu with something that wasn’t quite concern but wasn’t indifference either.

  'You good?' Nao asked, stuffing her hands into her hoodie pocket as she approached.

  Yuzu forced a ugh, though it came out weaker than she’d hoped. 'Define good.'he had only ducked in to escape the suffocating silence of the hallways, to pretend, just for a moment, that things were still normal. That someone might burst in, compining about an assignment or gossiping about a crush. Instead, she found only one other person still there—a girl hunched over a sketchbook, oblivious to the world crumbling outside.

  Airi.

  Yuzu recognized her from a few shared csses but had never spoken to her much. She was the kind of student who faded into the background, quiet, observant, always sketching something in the margins of her notes. Her dark hair was cut in a sharp bob, slightly uneven, as if she had taken the scissors to it herself. She wore an oversized sweater, the sleeves swallowing her hands as she worked. Even now, with everything falling apart, she was still drawing, pencil scratching against paper in steady, unhurried strokes.

  Yuzu cleared her throat. “Uh, hey.”

  Airi looked up, blinking as if surfacing from deep water. She didn’t seem startled, just mildly surprised that someone else was still here. “Hey,” she answered softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “What are you drawing?” Yuzu asked, stepping closer before she could second-guess herself.

  Airi hesitated, then tilted the sketchbook just enough for Yuzu to see. It was a cityscape—one that looked eerily familiar. The very street outside, down to the broken traffic light and the stray cat Yuzu had seen just yesterday. But in Airi’s version, the cracks in the pavement bloomed with wildflowers, and the sky, instead of its usual dull gray, was streaked with vivid colors, as if the sun had decided to put on a final, defiant show.

  Yuzu exhaled slowly. “It’s beautiful.”

  Airi’s lips twitched, almost forming a smile. “It’s… what I want to see.”

  Yuzu nodded, suddenly aware of how much she wanted that too. A version of the world where something still grew, where everything wasn’t just falling apart. Where maybe, just maybe, there was still something worth sticking around for.

  A moment of silence stretched between them before Airi spoke again, her fingers tightening around her pencil. “Are you leaving?”

  Yuzu hesitated. She could have lied. Could have said she had it all figured out. But standing here, in the soft glow of the art room, surrounded by remnants of what once was, she found herself saying the truth instead. “I don’t know.”

  Airi studied her for a moment, then nodded, as if she understood something Yuzu hadn’t quite figured out herself. “Then stay a little longer.”

  Yuzu did.

  "Did you... go to art school after high school?" Yuzu asked, her voice hesitant as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

  Airi didn’t respond immediately. She continued shading a part of her drawing, her pencil strokes methodical, as if considering whether the question was worth acknowledging. Finally, without looking up, she muttered, "Don't."

  Yuzu blinked. "Pardon?"

  Airi exhaled through her nose and turned her head slightly, just enough to gnce at Yuzu from the corner of her eye. "Don't ask questions you don't care about. We both know no one cares." Her voice was ft, but there was an edge to it, something weary and sharp, like she’d had this conversation before and already knew how it would end.

  Yuzu shifted uncomfortably, realizing she had unintentionally hit a nerve. She swallowed, then spoke again, softer this time. "I'm sorry," she said, the words slipping out before she could think of something better to say. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve, feeling oddly exposed under Airi’s gaze.

  Airi’s grip on her pencil loosened slightly, and after a long pause, she simply shrugged. "It's fine. Just... don't pretend, okay?"

  Silence stretched between them, punctuated only by the soft scratch of Airi’s pencil against paper. She remained focused, blending a gradient of colors with careful precision, her fingers smudging the graphite to create a seamless transition. The dim afternoon light filtering through the window caught the faint streaks of color on her sleeves, remnants of past projects, as she tilted her head slightly, lost in her work.

  "Oh, right. Ryo said he likes you." Yuzu said, casually inspecting a half-finished painting nearby.

  "Huh?" Airi's hands froze mid-shading, her pencil pressing too hard against the paper, leaving an unintended dark mark. She blinked at Yuzu, clearly caught off guard.

  Before she could process it further, the distant sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the hallway. A second ter, a door was forced open with a dramatic bang.

  "Damn you, Yuzu!" Ryo's voice boomed, breathless and indignant, as he stumbled into the room like a man on a mission.

  Ryo was outside the art room, eavesdropping poorly. Yuzu had dragged him along to school that day, mostly out of boredom, and now he was hovering just outside, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot as if that would make him less obvious. His fingers drummed against the doorframe, but every few seconds, he leaned in too close, pressing his ear against the wood like a cartoon spy. When a loose floorboard creaked under him, he flinched so hard he nearly lost his bance, throwing a frantic gnce around the hallway to make sure no one saw his embarrassing attempt at stealth.

  Airi blinked at Ryo, then tilted her head slightly, as if assessing whether he was worth acknowledging. "Um... hello?" she said, her tone caught between confusion and mild amusement.

  Ryo cleared his throat, straightened his posture like he was about to deliver an important speech, and then—after a long, agonizing pause—blurted out, "So... uh... nice weather we're having?"

  "I'll get going. I don't want to be the third fish in this pond," Yuzu sighed, stretching her arms dramatically before turning on her heel. As she took a few steps toward the door, she hesitated, throwing a sly gnce over her shoulder at Airi. "Unless, of course, you'd rather I stick around and save you from the human disaster over here."

  "A... ah. I'm... fine with him." Airi said, her voice barely above a whisper. But Yuzu caught the way her fingers fidgeted with the edges of her sketchbook, the way her cheeks took on a deeper shade of pink, and the way her lips curled ever so slightly, like she was fighting back a smile and utterly failing.

  Airi and Ryo, despite their awkward beginnings, started spending more time together, their interactions shifting from hesitant exchanges to something undeniably soft. Ryo, for all his bravado, fumbled through compliments, his words stumbling over themselves as his ears turned an impressive shade of red whenever Airi gave him a ft stare.

  He’d ugh a little too loudly at his own jokes, only to awkwardly clear his throat when Airi raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Airi, usually reserved, found herself rolling her eyes at his terrible humor—but never actually telling him to stop. Sometimes, when she thought no one was looking, a tiny smirk would flicker across her lips, like she secretly enjoyed his ridiculous attempts at flirting more than she let on. And if she ever caught herself staring a little too long, she'd quickly bury her face in her sketchbook, pretending the world beyond her art didn’t exist.

  Yuzu, watching them from the sidelines, exhaled through her nose, caught somewhere between amusement and secondhand embarrassment. "Alright, lovebirds, I'll leave you two to your... whatever this is," she muttered, making a vague hand gesture before turning to leave.

  As soon as Yuzu closed the door, she broke into a sprint, her vision blurring as hot tears welled up in her eyes. Her breaths came out uneven, half-choked, as she wiped at her face with the sleeve of her jacket. The empty hallways stretched before her, eerily quiet except for the rapid tapping of her footsteps against the linoleum floor. She didn’t know where she was running to—only that she had to move, had to get away before the ache in her chest swallowed her whole.

  She turned a corner and slowed to a stop, pressing her back against the cold wall. Her fingers clenched into fists at her sides as she fought to steady her breathing. The fluorescent lights above flickered slightly, casting uneven shadows along the empty corridor. It was ridiculous—she had no right to feel this way. It wasn’t like she had ever made a move, ever said anything, ever tried. But still, the sight of Airi and Ryo together had sent something twisting deep in her gut, something she wasn’t ready to name.

  Yuzu exhaled sharply and tilted her head back against the wall. "God, I’m so stupid," she muttered under her breath, her voice barely above a whisper.

  The sound of distant footsteps made her tense. For a second, she considered slipping into an empty cssroom, pretending she wasn’t there. But before she could move, a familiar voice called out from the end of the hallway, where the flickering fluorescent lights cast uneven shadows along the walls. The faint hum of electricity filled the silence, interrupted only by the occasional distant creak of the old building settling.

  "Yuzu?" The voice was hesitant, carrying a note of uncertainty that sent a shiver down Yuzu’s spine.

  Yuzu blinked, quickly wiping at her face before turning toward the voice. her pulse quickening at the sound of her name spoken in that familiar voice. quickly wiping at her face before turning toward the voice. Standing at the end of the hall was someone she had never expected to see here—Himari.

  Himari had transferred out a year ago, disappearing from Yuzu’s life as quietly as she had entered it. She had always been a little too put-together, her dark hair always neatly braided over one shoulder, her uniform crisp despite the growing chaos around them. Now, though, she looked different—her blouse was slightly wrinkled, her eyes a little heavier, like she had seen more than she was willing to say.

  "I... thought you left," Yuzu said, her voice catching slightly as she took a step forward.

  Himari shrugged, her expression unreadable. "I came back. For you."

  Yuzu's breath caught for a moment, her heart skipping an unexpected beat. "Really?"

  Himari let the silence stretch just long enough for doubt to creep in before smirking. "Of course not, I just came here because I'm bored."

  Yuzu let out a small ugh, shaking her head. "Guess we had the same idea."

  Himari tilted her head slightly, watching Yuzu with an expression Yuzu couldn’t quite decipher. "Not that there's many things to do before the end of the world," she murmured, her voice softer this time.

  Natsumikan