And now, that same tome—after taking the form of a book fitting the world it was thrown into—was now in Renji's hands.
He stared at it for a moment longer then shrugged. "Eh. It's not like you're going to tell me," he said, shoving the book back into his backpack. "I'll find out whenever I find out."
He slung the back over his shoulder and headed out into the corridor. Mrs Hoshizawa wasn't there anymore and Hiroshi had retired to the desk where he bored on a magazine.
Renji gave him a smile when he looked at him then headed into the art hall to paint.
Painting was the easy part of everything. He actually enjoyed doing it. At home, in between homework and reading new issues of his favorite manga, Renji barely made time for himself to paint.
But doing it in the Center ended up being a way for him to express this talent that he had, and it was quite the soothing thing to do. More so, it helped him get practice before the big day in the Art Competition.
