"Senior Naegi, this stool wasn't here last Thursday, was it?" Izumi Kotomi pointed at the extra stool behind her and asked Hibiki Naegi.
"I brought this stool into the art room at noon today. Although the art supplies haven't arrived yet, the instructor said we should pick a spot for the new member first using a stool," Naegi explained, turning around.
"A new member?" Kotomi asked, then remembered the conversation she overheard earlier that morning. "Is it the transfer student joining Class 1-F this Wednesday?"
"Exactly. Speaking of which, you're in Class 1-F, right?" Naegi confirmed.
Kotomi nodded. "Yes."
"I've heard the transfer student is a really cute girl. I wonder who's cuter, you or her?" Naegi teased with a playful smile.
"Ugh… Come on, Senior Naegi, stop teasing me!"
"Sorry, sorry, I'll be more careful in the future. It's just that I often joke around with my sister Seiko, so I can't help teasing other cute girls I'm close to," Naegi said with a laugh.
Complimenting her sister indirectly... Typical Naegi, Kotomi thought.
After a bit of light-hearted banter, Kotomi turned her focus back to the canvas in front of her.
What should she paint for the oil painting she planned to submit for the National Youth Art Award at Tokyo Metropolitan University?
Kotomi had chosen the challenging medium of oil painting but hadn't decided on the exact subject.
Every time she tried to brainstorm ideas, the first thing that came to mind was a sunset.
"I want to paint something related to a sunset, but what specific scenery should I choose? Mountains? Rivers? Forests?"
Unable to settle on an idea, she lightly sketched with her pencil, but each time she reached a certain point, she erased her work.
Clearly, none of the rough drafts she sketched out satisfied her.
Amid this constant trial and error, the school bell rang, signaling the end of club activities for the day. Despite her lack of progress, Kotomi had no choice but to pack up her art supplies.
Noticing Kotomi's frustrated expression as she cleaned up, Naegi walked over to check on her.
"Still haven't decided what to paint?"
Kotomi sighed in frustration and nodded. "It's not that I don't know how to paint it. I just haven't decided on a subject yet."
"You haven't come up with any good ideas?" Naegi asked, unsurprised.
Many artists face this problem during the creative process. Sometimes, the difficulty isn't in the execution but in the uncertainty of what to paint. The hesitation before starting the first stroke can be agonizing. In such moments, creativity becomes a source of pain, and even though nothing has happened, doubt about the work creeps in, making it hard to express in words.
This doubt gradually turns into anxiety and frustration, which is why many artists often suffer from insomnia.
Even talented geniuses like Kotomi can't avoid creative blocks, Naegi thought. Just as she was about to offer some words of encouragement, Kotomi continued:
"It's not that I haven't come up with good ideas. It's that I've thought of too many good ones, and I can't decide which one to go with."
Naegi felt as if she'd been hit with a critical blow!
After saying this, Kotomi even sighed, looking troubled.
Another critical blow landed on Naegi's heart!
"R-Really? Well, keep up the good work..." Naegi forced a smile and let out a dry laugh, then dejectedly returned to her seat.
Maybe I should stop worrying about this genius. If we keep talking, I'm going to end up bleeding from these critical hits from Kotomi!
Unaware that she had unintentionally delivered two knockout blows to Naegi, Kotomi finished packing up her art supplies, grabbed her school bag, and left the art room.
As she walked, she thought to herself: Ugh, it's so frustrating! I have so many great ideas, but I can't decide which one to paint. Painting them all would be too much effort.
Hmm... Maybe I should teach Aimi how to paint? I could get her to paint a few for me!
—Once again, today's Izumi Kotomi proves herself to be a "Good Onee-chan."
"Ah-choo!"
Meanwhile, as Izumi Aimi walked home with Iroha Isshiki, she suddenly sneezed.
That's strange. I'm not sick, so why did I just sneeze? Could it be... that my sister is thinking about me?!! Aimi rubbed her little nose, and at the thought of her sister missing her, her heart swelled with warmth!
"I'm on fire!" she shouted excitedly.
"Aimi, did you catch a cold?" Iroha asked from beside her.
"N-No, thanks for asking. My nose just felt a bit itchy," Aimi quickly responded.
Iroha giggled and said, "After meeting your sister yesterday, I finally understand why you're always so hung up on her~"
Hearing this, Aimi blushed and hastily defended herself:
"N-No, I'm not always thinking about her!"
"Really?" Iroha teased mischievously.
"I-I'm just worried about her! My mom once told me that when my sister was little, she had a really, really bad fever. Even though she recovered, sometimes she can still be a bit absent-minded. So I worry about her a lot. It's worry, worry! Got it?"
"Now that you mention it, I remember you saying in elementary school that when you grew up, you wanted to take care of your sister for the rest of her life!" Iroha said, recalling the past.
Hearing her childhood declaration brought up again after so many years, Aimi's face turned beet red in embarrassment!
Though she still harbored the dream of taking care of Kotomi for life, hearing her friend mention it made her feel an inexplicable sense of shame.
At that moment, Aimi just wanted to cover Iroha's mouth. Seriously, do you ever stop talking?!
"But after hanging out with her yesterday, I don't think your sister is someone you'll need to take care of for life. In fact, there's a good chance she'll be the one taking care of you. She's so good at drawing! Even if she doesn't go to college after high school, she could make a decent living as an illustrator. Or, she could debut as a mangaka—that wouldn't be a bad choice either," Iroha remarked thoughtfully.
What Iroha said wasn't anything new to Aimi.
It was like taking care of a clumsy little animal that suddenly gained the ability to fend for itself. The caretaker would feel happy, but at the same time, a strange sense of loss would arise—an unspoken reluctance to see such a change.
'That's such a childish thought,' Aimi quietly scolded herself in her mind, realizing how immature her feelings were.
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