Soft afternoon light poured through the windows of Aoi's room, bathing the art materials scattered across her desk in golden light. Pencils were thrown together with charcoal sticks and an open sketchbook with pages filled with thin strokes and elaborate details. Out of all the many sketches, one shone brightly.
A portrait of Ren.
His sharp features were with the calm intensity of his gaze, how his black hair slightly fell over his forehead, and the still confidence he exuded. Aoi could not even remember when she had drawn it. Something in her hand had gone on doing it by instinct, perhaps with her mind on other things-or guided by her subconscious.
Then, a strange sense of discomfort crept into her, staring down at the drawing. Why did she feel so?
Couldn't put a finger on it.
Before she could think further, though, a voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Aoi!"
The door flung open, and Emi entered, the burst of her energy filling the room.
Aoi turned around and was startled by her sister's entrance. "Emi, you should knock," she mumbled.
However, Emi was too busy. Her attention was now directed straight at the sketchbook, Ren's portrait.
A second passed in silence, and then,
"...Wait a minute," Emi stepped forward, eyes beginning to widen. "Is that--Ren?"
Aoi stiffened.
It was not meant for anybody to see it. She would close the book, laughing it off as nothing, but Emi was already crouched in front, interestedly examining the drawing.
"Oh, that is really him," Emi murmured, a smile playing about her lips. "You did a pretty good job of capturing him."
Aoi gulped, unsure of how to answer. "It's just a sketch," she blurted. "I wasn't really thinking about anything."
Emi didn't look convinced. With her arms crossed, she stared down Aoi, her expression plagued with humor.
"You're interested in him, aren't you?" Emi teased.
Aoi's heart did a flip.
Interested?
She opened her mouth to deny it, but nothing came out. What could she have said? She did not even understand what she was feeling. There was a strange pull every time she saw Ren: an unexplainable familiarity, as if he had been part of her life even before she had met him.
But did that mean she liked him at all?
"I told you, it's just a sketch," Aoi said, turning her head and looking away.
Emi watched her sister for a moment, then her smirk softened. "You are being weird about this, Aoi," she said, half-amused and half-considerate. "But that's okay. I understand."
Aoi blinked. "You... understand?"
Emi sighed a little and leaned against the desk. "In all honesty, I think he is interesting, too," she said. "At first, he only looked like a good chess player, but there's something about him that... I don't know. He feels different."
Aoi's fingers lightly brushed the pages of her sketchbook.
She and Emi had never really talked about something like this before. And yet, there they were, both recognizing something in Ren that was elusive to express.
Emi straightened and flashed her typical cocky grin. "But hey, don't overthink it. If you keep drawing him like these, though, I might just start to think you do have a thing for him."
Aoi felt the heat rise to her face. "I do not."
"Sure, sure," Emi chuckled, already halfway to the door. "Well, anyway, I'm leaving you with your mysterious feelings. Just don't be surprised if I make a move before you do."
Aoi watched her, a pretty mixed bag of emotions forming that tangled things up even more.
When the click of the door shutting sounded, Aoi turned back to the sketch of Ren.
Her fingers skimmed over the lines; his intimate expression stood out against something so simple.
What was she feeling?
She did not know.
Somehow, she felt like she was about to find out.