"Amidst the veils of deception, truth slumbers, and destiny's dance unveils the darkness within."
ayato pov:
The sun was setting, its warm hues casting a serene glow as the school day came to an end. Time seemed to slow, wrapping me in a cocoon of tranquility.
The art room beckoned, a sanctuary of creativity. Echoes of past works lingered in the air, as gentle dawn light filtered through the windows.
A solitary paintbrush rested on a table, seemingly awaiting its next adventure. Without hesitation, I picked it up, its cool handle a familiar extension of my hand.
Brush met canvas, strokes flowed. The outside world faded, leaving only the dance of the brush. Each stroke felt effortless, as my vision manifested before me.
Colors merged and melded on the canvas, a symphony of shapes and shades. I lost myself in the act of creation, unburdened by the worries of the day.
Guided by some unseen force, my hand moved with purpose. Details emerged with precision, each stroke a step closer to realizing my inner vision.
As the final touches graced the canvas, a sense of accomplishment washed over me. It was a creation that bore the mark of Morpheus, a testament to a hidden identity.
The newly occupied canvas bore my latest masterpiece worth I don't know myself how much " Seems like a fairly good job" was the only thing my high esteemed self could think of.
But then, as my eyes roamed the edges of the canvas, they froze upon a mark—a signature. The signature of Morpheus, the name that held a secret only I knew.
Panic gripped me as I realized the gravity of my mistake. How had I let this happen?
I quickly erased the traces of the said signature that could gnaw away at my seemingly peaceful life. Afterall ,
"I myself, am nothing but a façade"
Footsteps echoed in the corridor outside, drawing closer. My heart pounded in my chest as I considered my options. With a deep breath, I turned away from the canvas, my mind racing.
A shadow fell across the room, a whisper of presence. Instinct kicked in, and I melted into the shadows, an observer hidden from view.
Footsteps approached, and my heart quickened. The figure entered—a mere silhouette against the threshold. A sense of anticipation hung in the air, a delicate dance between discovery and concealment.
The figure's gaze fell upon the canvas, lingering for a moment. My breath caught as the possibility of recognition loomed. due to some merciless twist of fate, the figure moved closer to the canvas I had created just a while ago.
It was Hoshino.
As her beauty stood before the canvas Her fingers reached out, almost as if she could touch the colors, the emotions that I had poured into the canvas.
Her breath caught, and I could almost hear the thoughts racing through her mind.
Then, as if driven by an unseen force, her eyes moved to the corner of the canvas—the very corner where Morpheus's signature could have been. Confusion flickered across her features, her brow furrowing slightly.
But then, unexpectedly, her gaze shifted, and she turned away from the canvas. Relief washed over me, but it was short-lived.
As she moved toward the door, her steps hesitated, and I knew that she was searching for something—someone—else.
My heart raced as her gaze seemed to sweep over the room, lingering in the shadows where I stood. Time stretched taut, and for a moment, our worlds were poised on the precipice of collision.
And then, as if satisfied that she was alone, she left the room, the door closing softly behind her.
I remained hidden for a few more heartbeats, the weight of what had just transpired settling upon me. The masterpiece was both a triumph and a danger, a reflection of my hidden self that I had almost let slip through my fingers.
With a final glance at the canvas, I turned and swiftly made my exit.
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hoshino pov:
Lost in the labyrinthine halls of the school, my footsteps echoed against the quiet backdrop. I had taken a wrong turn, and now I found myself in a section of the building I hadn't explored before.
A subtle curiosity tugged at me—an urge to discover the hidden corners of this institution.
As I walked, my steps faltered, a flicker of color drawing my attention. A partially open door stood before me, a gentle light seeping through the crack.
The art room, it seemed. A realm of creativity and expression I had never delved into before. The light within was almost magical, a soft invitation that tugged at my senses.
With a sense of intrigue, I pushed the door open, entering a sanctuary of colors and canvas
Just then I lay my eyes on something beyond fascinating, a canvas decorated with colors that seemed to seep me in them.
A tranquil lake stretched across the foreground, its surface a mirror to the heavens above. Ripples danced upon its waters, capturing the fading light in a symphony of movement. On the distant horizon, majestic mountains reached upward, their peaks kissed by the dying sunlight.
I stepped closer tracing my fingers across what seemed to be nothing short of a masterpiece.
The paint seemed to be fresh so I quickly looked around for the one who was responsible for filling this canvas with wonders, but to no avail.
I dejectedly left the room while still hypnotized by the art I just witnessed but as I was about exit the corridor I saw a flicker of movement at the corner of my vision which drew my attention—a fleeting silhouette retreating from the room.
" beautiful Raven hair and the glint of silver earrings"
It was Akiyama-san from my class, I was almost certain.
My first impression of Akiyama-san had been as a boy seemingly devoid of emotions, his mesmerizing silver eyes carrying a vacant emptiness. It had struck me as an anomaly, as if he was a puzzle waiting to be solved.
I had dismissed it then, the weight of my own detachment and the event that had shaped me fueling my own cold demeanor. The scars of my past were not easily revealed.
the more I observed Akiyama-san, the more I couldn't shake the feeling that the puzzle pieces were falling into place. His aloofness, the way he moved through the world as if carrying secrets only he knew
" That work was beyond just the word beautiful..."
It carried a deep meaning that somehow resonated to a small dark part within me.
Yet, what drew my attention was a niggling feeling that something was amiss, a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit, when my eyes drifted to the corner of the canvas—a space that should have held a signature.
But there was none, leaving a void where a name should have been.
Confusion creased my brow, and I found myself lost in contemplation. Why would the artist omit their signature, especially when the painting held such profound beauty?
A frown touched my lips, and I whispered to myself in the solitude of the room, "Why leave it incomplete? What are you hiding, Akiyama-san?"
As if in response, a chill raced down my spine which seemed to be feeling that enticed a faint smile on my face.
Little did I know the course of my life would take a abrupt change the moment I layed my eyes on that specific canvas........it would be a start of something new, something far more interesting.