Chapter 15: The day before the party part 1

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Translator: Soafp

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It was late Friday night. After reviewing their week's accomplishments, the two of them rode tandem on a bicycle, chatting about the party tomorrow.

“A rich people's party, huh? I can't even picture it.”

“It's boring. I mean, I'm just an assistant. Basically, I'll be waiting in the back room with the other staff until Aika-chan calls for me.”

With practiced ease, Sora stood up on the footrests, catching the breeze over Ginji's shoulder. Though she had her own bike, she seemed to like riding double. Ginji didn't mind—he figured he owed her for the snacks she always gave him.

“You don't walk behind her like at school?”

“Depends on the situation. Oh no—I forgot to pack the painting Aika-chan asked for. I hope I'm not too late…”

“A painting? The one you're doing in her place?”

“Yeah, Aika-chan asked me to paint the ocean. It's going to be displayed at the venue tomorrow.”

“Hey, can Shiki actually paint? You're the one doing all the work, right?”

“Nope. Aika-chan paints sometimes. I just study how she uses her brush and colors—her habits and style—and mimic that.”

So the idol really could paint, at least a little. Even with Sora's help, she seemed to be doing her part. Ginji let out a quiet sigh. Whether it was the karasumi or this, Sora really had a talent for reading people's habits and preferences. Must be an artist's eye. If only she could direct that insight toward herself.

“…I see.”

“What is it?”

Sora leaned in to peek at Ginji's expression, but he waved her off, saying it was dangerous.

“Now that I think about it, the only things you've painted as your own are that bike and the cat.”

“…Yeah. It's been about two years since someone really looked at one of my paintings. The last time I was praised for one was probably when I was little—by my dad.”

“It wasn't finished, though.”

“Hehehe… It actually is finished now. Thanks to your help with work, I had time to wrap it up.”

“Heh? I've only seen the torn version. I'm curious.”

Right then, they arrived at Sora's house. Normally, this would be where they split, but Sora hesitated, fidgeting a little as she looked at Ginji. He'd learned to recognize this kind of body language—she wanted him to pick up on it.

“Can I see it?”

“Yeah… but it's dark out, and I'd hate for Aika-chan to see it if I brought it to school. Ginji, do you have a bit of time?”

“Hmm? Yeah, Tetsuya's in charge of dinner tonight. I've got maybe an hour.”

“Okay. Then give me ten… no, fifteen minutes.”

Saying that, Sora ran into the house. The concrete walls muffled the sound, but Ginji could imagine the commotion going on inside. After about twenty minutes, a sweaty Sora appeared at the door.

“You can come into the first-floor studio. But the second floor's off-limits, okay?”

“Huh? Is it okay?”

“It's fine if it's you, Ginji. You're special.”

She led him into the house, which smelled just like an art room—wood shavings, oil, and that distinct chemical scent of paints. Bags of used brushes, unfamiliar art tools, piles of sketchbooks and canvases. In the back, there was even a storage room for completed works.

“Damn. Looks like a pro's studio.”

“I-It's usually tidier! I'm just a little off today.”

That was clearly a lie.

She flicked several switches to adjust the lighting, then handed Ginji a framed watercolor painting.

“H-here you go.”

Lit under the lights was a watercolor piece: a yellow motorcycle parked in front of a concrete wall, a cat dozing on the seat. Judging by the background and the size of the cat, the bike looked tiny. Ginji felt like every line carried meaning.

“This is amazing… there's so much in it.”

It was almost exhausting, trying to take it all in.

“What kind of things do you see?”

“First, the time. Judging by the angle of the sunlight, it's around 7 a.m.? You probably saw this on your way to school. Wind's blowing left to right, just a little. The cat's fast asleep, so the bike's been parked there a while. You were crouched down watching it, weren't you? Heh… probably checking out the engine. I get it—I like bikes like this too. Laid back and honest.”

“…It's a Monkey 125. I was asking, “Would someone like this?” So… thanks for answering.”

“No problem. …I see now—when it's in a painting, you really say a lot. This is definitely your work, Sora.”

“…I talk a lot with you, though.”

She mumbled, blushing faintly at the nose.

It was true—Sora had started talking more around Ginji.

However, Ginji thought that the moment he felt the most emotional movement was when he saw this painting.