"Hey, those two kids should have met by now, right?"
"Unless something unexpected happened."
"Unexpected?"
"Ahem, just saying. By the way, that kid, Mashiro, seems pretty impressive, huh?"
"Yeah, she's quite something—cute, pure as a blank canvas, and already one of the world's top oil painting prodigies at such a young age. But..."
"But she got influenced by that boy's two manga series and now wants to draw manga herself. That's what you wanted to say, right?"
"Haha, as expected of my kid!"
Akifumi Nakui shook her head helplessly and then said, "By the way, Yor should be wrapping things up soon, right?"
"Probably within this month."
"Well, once she's done, let her come over there and help keep an eye on Mugiho."
"Got it."
....................
Akifumi looked up, and before him stood a girl who looked like she had stepped straight out of a painting.
She radiated an ethereal and almost unreal aura.
"No wonder those two said she'd be recognizable at a glance."
With such a distinctive presence, how could anyone possibly overlook her?
The girl gazed at Akifumi, her eyes as pure as the finest gemstones, devoid of any impurities.
Perhaps due to the prolonged silence, she asked again:
"Hey, what color do you want to be?"
Akifumi snapped back to reality and smiled. "Before asking someone's name, shouldn't you introduce yourself first?"
"Before asking me what color I want to be, shouldn't you tell me what color you want to be?"
"That's basic manners, you know."
The girl fell silent. Her dazed expression made it unclear whether she was actually processing his words.
After five seconds, she finally seemed to regain her focus.
"Basic manners?"
"Yes."
"Never thought about it."
She paused for a moment before speaking again. "If I had to choose now... I guess white?"
"White, huh? That does suit you."
"Thank you."
Despite expressing gratitude, her expression remained unchanged.
"Then, what color do you want to be?"
"Me? Hmm... I'm not sure either."
Akifumi chuckled. "Having only one color for a lifetime sounds a bit dull, don't you think?"
"That's why I want to try them all."
"Only one color is too dull?"
For the first time, ripples formed in the girl's calm gaze.
"Then, what color are you now?"
"Right now? Probably red."
A color full of passion for everything around him.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Akifumi Mugiho. I'm not sure if they told you, but I'm here to pick you up."
"I know."
Her expression remained as cold as ever. To someone unfamiliar with her personality, it might seem like indifference.
The girl reached out her hand. "Shiina Mashiro."
"Can I call you 'Mugi(麦)'? I really like that character it's cute."
Even without any expression on her face, she was undeniably beautiful.
For a boy his age, it would be hard to resist such directness.
"You like it, huh..."
Akifumi showed no reaction to her words and simply smiled. "If you like it, then just call me Mugi."
Unlike others, when she said she liked something, she truly meant it—without any hidden meanings.
"In return, can I call you Mashiro?"
"You can."
"That's it? Nothing else?"
"That's it."
"Alright, let's go."
"Okay."
The walk home was silent.
Back at the house, Akifumi looked at the girl sitting on the couch, holding a teacup, her gaze slightly vacant.
'Why does this feel like I just kidnapped a clueless girl and brought her home?'
[TL Note – You did ...…kinda…..]
After the initial excitement wore off, he started feeling a headache coming on.
Even though he had a rough idea of her personality, that didn't mean he knew how to communicate with her properly.
For a moment, he had no idea where to even begin.
'Good thing I'm not the one taking care of her.'
Otherwise, it'd be like adopting a pet.
From an outsider's perspective, a girl who could make a room this messy in just one night might seem like an amusing character.
But think about it—
What is it like having to clean up after someone all the time?
Even when it's just your own room, you don't always feel like tidying up.
Now imagine a room that's several times messier... it'd be absolute torture.
As for the supposed "benefits" of helping her change clothes and seeing things one shouldn't—
'Just thinking about it already feels like a crime.'
Mashiro's age was completely fine, but her level of emotional maturity? She was practically a child.
Faced with someone as pure as a blank canvas, just having those kinds of thoughts would be enough to make one's conscience scream.
Come to think of it, if he were the one taking care of her...
"Mugi, help me change clothes."
A barely-dressed Mashiro saying such a thing—who could handle that?
The story would definitely unfold like this:
While his moral compass screamed at him, his senses would be overwhelmed by the visual, tactile, and olfactory experience.
His instincts as a man and his principles as a person would clash endlessly.
'Now that I think about it, this kind of push-and-pull between temptation and restraint... kinda thrilling, actually?'
"Mugi, your expression looks weird. Are you sick?"
A shadow suddenly appeared in front of him, startling Akifumi.
A cool, delicate touch landed on his face. The girl had leaned in, stopping just a few centimeters away.
Unlike most people, at this distance, Mashiro's beauty became even more striking.
Her fair, smooth skin had a soft glow, flawless like the finest porcelain.
Her breath, faintly sweet, brushed against his face, tickling like a feather.
For a moment, Akifumi froze, completely captivated.
Seeing no reaction, Mashiro instinctively moved even closer.
The already small gap between them shrank even further.
Akifumi snapped out of it and cupped Mashiro's face with both hands.
Her skin was warm and incredibly soft—so delicate that he worried even the slightest pressure might leave a mark.
"Mm?" Mashiro blinked, confused.
"I'm not sick."
Akifumi sighed. "And even if I were, would holding my face really tell you that?"
"Maybe?"
With that, she pulled back and returned to her seat.
"By the way, the person actually responsible for taking care of you lives in this building too. Why didn't they just tell me which floor? It would've been easier to take you straight there."
That way, he wouldn't have to worry about her.
Thinking of this, Akifumi asked, "So when are they coming to pick you up?"
"Hm?"
Mashiro tilted her head slightly. "Who?"
"Your relatives in this country."
"I don't know."
Wow. A true master of giving vague answers.
She only spoke in three-word sentences and left the rest for others to figure out.
Even Akifumi couldn't tell whether her "I don't know" meant she didn't know when they'd come, or if she didn't even know if they would come.
Rubbing his temples, he gave up trying to guess and instead asked again, "So when are they picking you up?"
"Aren't you the one picking me up, Mugi?"
"..."
If he had a shorter temper, he might have died of frustration already.
Before he could think of a better way to phrase his question—
Click.
The sound of the door unlocking interrupted him.
A familiar voice came from the entrance.
"Sorry, Akifumi. I got held up buying groceries, so I'm a little late."
Then, noticing the extra pair of shoes at the entrance, the voice asked curiously:
"Wasn't Eriri supposed to be out with her friends today? How did she get here before me?"
The voice grew closer—whoever it was had already changed into indoor slippers and was heading for the living room.
[TL Note – Run my boy!]
...................................
[TL Note]
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