(Yui's point of view)
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We stare at the sketchpad as she runs her fingers on the pencil. Himari is at a loss for words, uncertain what to add to her statement before. She rolls her eyes at the sides and returns her gaze at the drawing once again. I can perceive the slight beat from her fingers tapping on the sheets, pushing away her noisy thoughts from her head.
Her face is like a picture of art mixed with different expressions. I can discern her eyes narrowing down, her face still, but her mouth curling upward. She is like a statue, refusing to move from her place. Even if she could, Himari would remain on her seat, glueing herself with the pad in her hands.
After some time, Himari blinks and fiddles with her hands. She puts up a front and denies all my accusations and soon returns to her usual demeanour.
"Don't worry! I have got it all undercover!" Himari croaks, hiding her tears forming beside her pupils.
The weight of her words has no meaning when I stare at her expression. It is as if Himari half-heartedly accepts that she would be a better artist in no time, and nobody should worry about what is running inside her mind.
It is quite the opposite of what she needs to believe from her ideals and discard. Himari must let go of all of her troubles, accept her flaws, and learn from the lessons.
The little girl knows this and is doing a superb job! But that does not mean she is alright with these things happening around her.
"I know you have been through a lot despite being a kid," I confess, while looking at the ground.
It must have been strenuous, with all the adults swarming around her. Those who could draw better than her would point out her mistakes following a compliment. It is for the sake of telling the child she is doing an outstanding job in her hobbies.
However, Himari is far from the kids of her age. She knows how to feel disheartened after hearing such reviews from her works. Adults who are starting their careers would prefer hearing the comments last than before or during drudgery.
It is as if I am looking at a mirror. Himari acts like my past self, who has discovered the art of acting in front of the stage. During those times, I have my best friend helping me through the laborious practises of performing in front of a crowd. Himari has her orphan sisters, the caretaker, and Roxanne and Yuki by her side.
However, that does not change the fact about listening to various comments from other people.
"Yuki once told me that being good at something needs to practise, and once you become better at something, people will judge you, and that's okay," Himari says.
I gawk at her figure and lean my head. "Yuki told you that?"
Himari nods at me with satisfaction. "I learn a lot of things from Yuki!"
That nonchalant girl that acts like she does not know what is happening, and understands everything can give such an unforgettable quote? I know she is our secretary, but advising on the drawing does not suit her style.
The little girl also mentions that she receives lessons from the three people in the group. If I remember them correctly, they should be Roxanne, Yuki, and Nickson.
I raise the exact question inside my head. "Why does she know Nickson?"
Himari hears what I have said before. She hides her giggle using her hand and flickers through the pages. A drawing that looks more like a manga character greets my eyes. It has the iconic black and white ink covering the lines for each representation of characters in the artwork.
It has goggling wide eyes staring at the audience. Although I am not a fan of watching anime that much, I read dozens of manga in my free time. My favourite genre is also people involved in the acting industry. I read stories I could relate to as a performer on stage. A pinch of romance is not terrible when the artist does it correctly. But I am highly dubious about such relationships that prove to be unrealistic to our contemporary world.
"Do you not know, sister Yui!" Yui asks.
"About what?"
"Yuki and Nickson are famous people." She answers.
A decisive pause enters our conversation and allows me to decipher the knowledge I have heard from Himari. As if concurring with what she has mentioned, Himari feverishly nods her head and runs through a room.
She returns two minutes afterwards with a novel in her left hand and a manga on the other. Himari hands over the two pieces of works to my waiting hands and waits for me to read its content.
The book and the manga pique my curiosity as soon as I see the book cover and the comic cover.
I first check the volume and turn the pages over. The illustration from the following pages addresses my eyes as if sucking me inside the world of fiction. The drawings do not look like a manga to me but a unique design that feels compatible with the book.
As I flip the pages, the texts come to light with various lengths and tones. I read a paragraph to feel the settings of the story. Those few seconds of my life reading the first few lines drag me out of this world.
The picturesque scenes described by the words are as magical as it seems. I have read no book in the past few years, but this is the first time that I feel the thriller scene by solely reading the introduction. It shows all the events and flashes them in front of me as if I am one with the characters.
But that excitement turns into turmoil as I hear the blaring noises of plates and metallic utensils crashing against the other.
"Sorry!" Yuki and Roxanne shout at the tip of their lungs and resume cleaning the dishes.
"Onto the next one," I tell myself and grab hold of the hardbound copy of the manga.
The last time I read a comic book was two weeks ago. It was about the relationship between a shy girl and an arrogant boy. The story concluded with the girl ending up with the main character through troublesome times, typical endings of romantic plots.
This genre is not my cup of tea, but I have nothing to do during those times.
My friends recommended I read the manga, and I did. I found many things lacking during my read, but not enough to affect my journey. I do not know if it is just me or if the dialogues from the manga appear forced. But I am not one to judge or criticize the work since I am not an artist.
I can draw nothing other than stick men and entire scribbles of abstract works.
The art style is an exemplary product of modern manga. I also find it memorable every time I notice similar works made by the artist. I observe artists have their manners of stroking their lines, shaping their eyes, and figures of every character design. This manga sits at the far end of the sharks, waiting for its spotlight.
"Sugoi! Who made these?" (Sugoi is a Japanese word when a person feels excited, awestruck, or just wow!)
As soon as I ask a question, two people emerge from the room and surprise us with their frightening faces.
"We did." Roxanne and Yuki proudly admit their works that are resting in my hands.
Roxanne clears her throat and corrects herself. "Well, I was a co-designer of the book cover."
"What do you mean, co-designer? You made the entire freaking thing!" Yuki retorts.
Their conversation continues forth as they leave Himari and us out of place. We stare at the two of them for five minutes and wait for them to notice our gaze. With an apologetic smile, Roxanne and Yuki bow their heads and express their gratitude.
We are just messing with the two, so there is no harm done.
"I always tell Himari that mistakes strengthen you. It does not matter if someone presented it to you, horribly or formally. As long as you don't give up, you can achieve anything." Yuki explains.
"If you feel scared about your work, then do it with a frightened heart. It is better to continue your passion than to give up." Roxanne adds.
The two of them flash me a smile after saying such inspirational statements. I cannot believe that these two are well-known people in this world. Who could have thought that I would speak to Yuki, the famous Lady in Blood!
My hands accidentally slip and turn the book over to the last page. I widen my eyes in shock as I discern the two of them posing like a lunatic despite their prestigious titles.
Whacky people never cease to change.