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==============
In the art room after school, soft, fading light filtered through the window. Saya clutched a new brush.
"Again... it's wrong." The line drawn on the canvas warped unnaturally. Her trembling hand left shaky strokes. How many times had she restarted? The image in her mind just wouldn't take shape.
Beside her, Momota watched silently. He felt Saya's torment acutely.
"The way the light is... it's wrong. The depth of the shadows... completely off." Saya's murmurs grew increasingly desperate. Three weeks had passed since she picked up the new brush, yet she hadn't painted a single piece with the same vibrancy as before.
"Maybe you should take a break..." Momota asked, his voice laced with concern, but Saya shook her head vehemently.
"No. I have to paint... I have to keep painting." Desperation permeated her voice. "Since I lost Mom's keepsake brush, I... I can't do anything. Will I... will I lose the ability to paint forever?"
Tears streamed down her cheeks. They fell onto the canvas, blurring the still-wet paint.
"Saya-chan..." Momota was speechless. That brush, the one he had secretly imbued with power. That precious brush that granted her the mysterious ability to reflect her feelings in her art. It was gone forever.
"I'm scared of the time when I can't paint," Saya said, her trembling hand raising the brush again. "When I put the brush down, I feel like I'll never be able to paint again..."
As the sun set, the shadows in the art room deepened. Still, Saya continued to move her brush. Unnatural lines, distorted shapes, faded colors. The brilliance she once possessed was nowhere to be found.
"This isn't it... this isn't it..." Saya's murmurs echoed sadly. Momota watched her profile, his heart aching.
It's my fault...
If he hadn't secretly used that power, Saya would have continued painting with a normal brush. Instead of nurturing the bud of her talent, had he distorted its growth? Self-reproach gnawed at Momota's heart.
"It's already... late," he said. The clock already pointed to six. "Let's... go home today."
Saya slowly put down the brush. A deep resignation permeated her gesture. On the canvas, a painting far from complete remained. The vibrancy it once held was nowhere to be found.
"Let's paint... tomorrow too," Momota said. Saya nodded slightly, but the anxiety in her eyes didn't disappear.
After tidying up, the two left the school building in the fading light. Saya's back seemed unusually small.
I'm finding these memories painful to watch. Because I know darkness is coming.
"Tsukishiro-san, I came to apologize again," Rokuro's voice echoed in the art room. It was the beginning of his daily, ritualistic "apology."
"I even bought you a new brush. If you'd like..."
"Just... go home." Saya's voice was weary. The daily repetition of his apologies. The obsession lurking beneath. It was slowly cornering her.
"But I really..."
"I don't want to hear it!" Saya's scream-like voice resonated. It was a roughness unimaginable from her usual self. "Because of you, I lost something precious. Don't ever come near me again!"
Her voice trembled. Her fists were clenched. Momota watched Saya's changed appearance from a corner of the art room.
After school, after Saya had gone home, Momota stood in the art room, his resolve firm.
"I'll... use the power again."
He had decided not to use the power unnecessarily. But to protect Sayaâ
In the twilight of the art room, Momota reached for Saya's new brush.
"Please. Saya-chan... the power to protect Saya-chan..."
At that moment, a strong green light emanated from the brush. A mysterious glow, unlike anything he had ever seen before. It was as if Momota's feelings had taken the form of light.
"With this power... Saya-chan..." His words trailed off. The light was gradually absorbed into the brush.
However, Momota didn't notice. I, watching the memories, saw it. A faint black shadow was mixed within the green light.
A black shadow. That shadow was definitely present in Yamashita's red light as well. It had become a denser, darker shadow. I am now certain that the memories hold a clue to Momota, and a way to stop him, along with details of his abilities.
Gasps of astonishment filled the art room.
"Amazing... I've never seen such a wonderful painting."
"It's like she's painting light itself."
Art club members held their breath before Saya's new masterpiece. The canvas depicted a single tree in the schoolyard at dusk. The light spilling from its branches, the wind drifting through its leavesâall were rendered with a mysterious vitality.
"Did I... really paint this?" Saya herself seemed bewildered by the work that had emerged from her brush. After overcoming her slump, her art had ascended to new heights.
Momota watched from a slight distance. The brush he had secretly imbued with power. It had indeed unleashed Saya's talent.
"Hey, Glasses!" Yamazaki's voice boomed during dismissal. The sight of him with Rokuro made Momota instinctively stop.
"You know this guy, right? Remember these bruises, this mess." Yamazaki gripped the collar of a cowering Rokuro. "This is the guy who broke Tsukishiro's brush. I got revenge on behalf of Tsukishiro. Isn't that interesting?"
Rokuro's face was swollen. Clear signs of assault.
"To break such an important brush... What a terrible guy! I punished him!" Yamazaki's voice contained an unfathomable malice. "He's been apologizing to Tsukishiro all the time. What a man! No sincerity!"
Yamazaki punched Rokuro's face again.
"S-stop..." Rokuro's voice trembled.
"Yamazaki. P-please stop. I-it has nothing to do with you." Momota strained to speak as loudly as he could.
"Huh?" Yamazaki's eyes took on a dangerous glint. "It has everything to do with me. Because, you see, Tsukishiro is going to be mine."
At those words, Momota's body trembled. Was it anger, or fear?
"I can't stand seeing such a beautiful girl with a shorty like you, Glasses."
Suddenly, a strong impact hit Momota's chest. Yamazaki's kick flew without mercy. Momota fell to the ground. Beside Yamazaki, Rokuro stood trembling.
"This is just the beginning," Yamazaki said, a defiant smirk on his face. "Tsukishiro is mine. Anyone who gets in the way will end up like this."
Behind the school building at dusk. In a place unseen by anyone, a new chain of violence was about to begin. In the art room, Saya continued to paint magnificent pictures. In the shadow of that brilliance, darkness was steadily spreading. Something within Momota's heart began to crumble with a sound.
The memories show Yamazaki's presence casting a dark shadow over Momota's heart. I wish I could do something about this awful guy, but these are just memories, a bygone past. All I can do is watch. There's no changing the past.
Yamazaki Takumi's approach to Saya began. It gradually escalated.
"Tsukishiro-san, let's walk home together today."
"I'll pick you up after cram school."
"Do you have plans for the holiday tomorrow?"
Yamazaki's voice was everywhere. The classroom, the hallway, the train platformâhe was wherever Saya went.
"I... I can't take it anymore." In the library after school, Saya confessed in a trembling voice, hidden behind a bookshelf to avoid notice. "Yesterday, he even came to my house..."
Momota looked at Saya's face. Her usual dignified expression was gone, replaced by a deep weariness.
"He calls me many times. Even if I block his number, he changes it." Saya's voice broke. "Lately, even emails. He's even been taking my photos... without permission."
Momota's fist trembled. The bruises from Yamazaki's assault still hurt. But more painful than that was seeing Saya suffer.
"The police..."
"But he hasn't done anything that serious, and the police don't intervene in civil matters, right?" Saya looked down. "Besides, Yamazaki-kun's dad is the butcher in the shopping district, isn't he? If I tell the police, it'll surely cause trouble for their shop..."
At that moment, an idea sparked in Momota's mind.
"Why don't we... talk to Tsukakoshi-san?"
"The greengrocer?"
"Yeah. He's been watching over us since we were little." Momota continued quietly. "And he's close with Yamazaki's dad. Maybe he can find a good solution..."
A small light of hope ignited in Saya's eyes.
"You're right... Tsukakoshi-san might."
Tsukakoshi Tadashi, a prominent figure in the shopping district. A trustworthy adult who had been kind to them since childhood. Perhaps he could do something about this situation.
"Let's go now."
"Oh, Saya-chan and Takejiro-kun. It's been a while, hasn't it?"
At the storefront of the greengrocer "Tsukakoshi," Tsukakoshi Tadashi wore a gentle smile. In the twilight of the shopping district, his voice resonated warmly.
"What's wrong, you two?" Tsukakoshi, looking at their faces with concern, Saya hesitantly began to explain the situation: Yamazaki's persistent approaches, the sleepless nights from fear, the terror of having her photos takenâ
"Is that so... that's terrible." Tsukakoshi's expression became serious. "That punk Takumi, he's really getting carried away, isn't he?"
"But, the police and the school..." Saya's voice trembled.
"I know. Don't worry." Tsukakoshi nodded gently. "I'm close with Takumi's old man. I'll have a good talk with him."
Saya sighed with relief. Momota also felt some of the tension leave his shoulders.
"We're really sorry."
"What are you talking about? I've watched you two since you were little." Tsukakoshi continued calmly, packing vegetables into a box. "I won't let anything bad happen. Leave it to me."
On the way home, Saya's expression was a little brighter.
"That was good... that Tsukakoshi-san was on our side."
The next morning. As Yamazaki entered the classroom, his classmates gasped. His swollen cheeks. The blue-purple discoloration around his eyes. They were clear signs of assault.
"Yamazaki?! What happened?!"
"A fight?"
The classroom buzzed. Through it all, Yamazaki walked straight to Saya's desk.
"Tsukishiro... I'm sorry." His voice was low and subdued. All his previous arrogance was gone. "I won't... bother you again."
Yamazaki bowed deeply. Saya, though bewildered, nodded slightly.
In a corner of the classroom, Momota silently watched the scene. Tsukakoshi's influence was more effective than expected.
The threat of Yamazaki was gone. I feel relieved. So what happened to Momota then? There must be clues in the memories. And also how to stop Momota and the details of his abilities.
A Glimmer of Hope and Deepening Shadows
Soft sunlight streamed into the art room.
"Takejiro-kun!" Saya's voice rang out joyfully. She rushed in, breathless, clutching something in both hands.
"I passed... I passed!" She held out an envelope with trembling hands. Inside was an acceptance letter from the art university.
"I really... I really got in." Tears shone in Saya's eyes.
Momota, behind his black-rimmed glasses, fixed the joyful expression of his best friend firmly in his mind. Saya's dream, which he had watched since childhood. Her painting, which she had once been unable to do after losing her mother's keepsake brush. Yet, she hadn't given up and continued to paint with a new brush.
"You really... you're amazing, Saya-chan." Momota's voice trembled slightly. "I always believed in you. That it would surely come true."
"You know," Saya hugged the small cloth bag containing her mother's keepsake brush to her chest. "I made it this far because you were by my side, Takejiro-kun."
In the art room, bathed in the setting sun, the two gazed at each other in silence. Unspoken feelings seemed to drift in the air.
"I'm going to keep painting... from now on." Saya's eyes were filled with strong resolve. "With my mother's feelings, and Takejiro-kun's feelings in my heart."
Momota nodded silently. Saya, still looking down, began to speak.
"My dad..." Momota held his breath at her trembling voice. "He's strongly against me going to art university."
The setting sun cast long shadows of the two.
"He says it's unacceptable for the shrine's successor to pursue such a path..." Saya's fingers tightened around the cloth bag containing her mother's broken keepsake brush. "He also says the tuition is impossible with the shrine's income." Tears streamed down her cheeks. "But I..."
"Don't give up." Momota's voice was unusually strong. "Saya-chan's paintings have the power to move people's hearts. That's not..." His words trailed off. "That's not because I used power. It's Saya-chan's talent..." Momota mumbled softly, almost to himself.
"Takejiro-kun..." Saya looked up. "Thank you. But the reality is..." At that moment, her smartphone rang. A call from her father. Saya stared at the screen for a moment, then sighed deeply.
"I have to go home now."
"I'll walk you to the shopping district." On the way, they walked a little slower than usual, as if reluctant for this moment to end.
Momota's struggling heart comes through. Days of worry. Memories of internal conflict.
"Takejiro-kun!" Saya's cheerful voice echoed in the usual art room.
"My dad... my dad gave me permission!" Saya ran in, breathless, tears sparkling in her eyes.
Momota instinctively stood up. "Really?"
"Yeah! But... there are conditions." Saya took a deep breath and began counting them one by one.
"First, I have to promise to take over the shrine someday. That's an absolute promise." She held up one finger towards the desk.
"Then, if I feel like I don't have talent, I have to come back immediately. Even if it means dropping out of art university." A second finger went up.
"He'll pay for tuition, but I have to earn my other living expenses by working part-time. I shouldn't expect any remittances." The third finger. Saya's voice trembled slightly.
"And... I have to live a simple life in Tokyo. Absolutely no frivolous living."
Harsh conditions were laid out one after another. Yet, Saya's expression was radiant.
"But I can go. I'm one step closer to my dream."
"That's good... I'm so glad." Momota's voice was also trembling.
"Takejiro-kun," Saya hugged the cloth bag containing her mother's broken keepsake brush to her chest. "I'm sure Mom is happy too."
In the art room, bathed in the setting sun. Their shadows overlapped in the orange light.
"It's going to be tough from now on," Saya murmured, a little anxiously. "Balancing part-time work and creating... living alone in Tokyo..."
"It's okay," Momota said quietly, yet strongly. "If it's Saya-chan, you'll surely be fine."
Behind those words, Momota's heart secretly firmed its resolve.
Farewell and a Lingering Promise
At dusk at Tsukishiro Shrine. On the stone steps, Saya, still in her miko attire, gazed at Momota.
"By this time tomorrow, you'll be in Tokyo..." Momota's voice seemed to drift away, as if disappearing into the distance.
"Yeah..." Saya gripped the cloth bag containing her mother's keepsake brush tighter than usual. "It hasn't really sunk in yet."
The shrine grounds, bathed in the setting sun, were filled with their memories. Their childhood days playing in the sandbox. The art room where she continued to paint. The summer festival where they exchanged amulets.
"Takejiro-kun," Saya suddenly spoke up. "Did you figure out who I like?"
"Huh?" Momota instinctively adjusted his glasses. "The one... when you turned down the popular Sugimoto-senpai...?"
"Oh, come on!" Saya couldn't help but burst out laughing. "You're really dense."
"I-is that so..." To Momota's confusion, Saya smiled gently. "It's fine. That's just like you, Takejiro-kun."
The wind blew, rustling Saya's dark hair. Her profile, illuminated by the setting sun, was as beautiful as a painting.
"I'll definitely come back," Saya looked up at the sky. "Once I can paint even more wonderful pictures. And become a painter who can put my dad at ease."
"It's a promise," Momota forced the biggest smile he could. "I'll be waiting for Saya-chan's triumphant return."
"Okay!" Saya's eyes were moist. "When that time comes... when that time comes, I'm sure." Her words trailed off. "There's something I want to tell you."
Momota nodded silently. The setting sun cast their shadows long on the shrine's stone steps.
"Well then, see you."
"Yeah... see you."
Their farewell was surprisingly simple. But each word held unspoken feelings. Saya ascended the stone steps. Every time she looked back and waved, Momota waved back gently.
==========
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