Yatora Yaguchi.

For some time now, Yatora had been drawing the same face. It wasn't something he did of his own volition; every time he held a brush or a pencil, his hand moved almost instinctively, unconsciously capturing the same person again and again. He never knew who it was, but that unknown figure ended up becoming the subject of countless sketches and paintings.

What puzzled him most was the beauty of that face. There was something almost ethereal about her features, a harmony difficult to explain that made each painting seem to portray an angel rather than a person. Regardless of the style or technique, that impression never changed.

That day she attended a painting class with Yotasuke. As soon as they crossed the threshold and the door closed behind them, her eyes almost automatically turned to one of the people in the room.

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His breath caught for a moment. It was the same face he had painted countless times. The same serene presence, the same features he had tried to understand for so long. Unable to look away, he felt that, for the first time, one of his paintings had come to life.