honey color

Go, only the person with the most delicate emotions sits alone by the window and slowly understands.There is no summer sun that is so fierce that it can burn the leaves, and there is no spring that can melt people's hearts. Now there is only white light, tree shadows swaying on the window lattice, and those not-so-loud cicadas.

And the young man was still sitting in the middle, with scattered drawing boards placed on the easel under the light spots, and a small piece of drawing paper was in front of him.He turned his back to me, to the person who was slowly approaching him, and when I drew the Maemi on the trunk of the vigorous tree in front of me into the drawing paper, I finally stopped in amazement because of the rare ink brushwork. Behind him, watch him quietly fiddling with the paintbrush, calmly resting the cicada that vibrates its wings from time to time.

It wasn't until the wind blew through the leaves that a sound that was countless times louder than the cicada's chirping suddenly jumped up in this space, and he and I were suddenly expelled from the peaceful atmosphere.

How can electronic bells compare to that cicada?

My soft sigh finally caught his attention, and he turned his head in surprise while pulling out his phone:

"So you're already here?"

"I'm sorry!" I blushed quickly, knowing that it's not good to secretly watch him draw from behind.

He quickly stretched out his hand to ask me to stop the voice, and connected the phone. He responded a few times, and finally heaved a sigh of relief and pressed the hang up button:

"It's Shiraishi."

"Are you guys going to practice?" I realized something and leaned over to ask.

"Yeah." He nodded, and when he put the phone back into his pocket, the little cicada in his eyes was finally pushed aside by him, "It seems that we are destined to miss it." He said softly, and finally walked along Walking along the gray and white terrazzo floor to the cabinet where the drawing boards are placed.

"Huh?" I didn't quite understand what he meant.

"That cicada, I've wanted to draw for a long time, and today I finally made up my mind, but I was interrupted." When he opened the cabinet and reached out to move something, the sound of paper "cracking" was still heard quickly.

"Why..." I tilted my head to look at him, the boy was wearing a clean T-shirt, and soon, a medium-sized drawing board appeared in the palm of my hand.

"Maybe it won't be there tomorrow, maybe it will die under the tree tomorrow, even if neither, tomorrow's it will definitely not be today's it, and tomorrow's me will definitely not be today's me."

"..."

At that time, I could only stare at him in a daze.

In fact, this is a kind of philosophy, but I could not fully understand it at that time or maybe now.That's why I always envy him and admire him. Even though he did become an incomparably outstanding person after that, I still had a simple correspondence with him after that, and I was always a little confused about his understanding.

That's why he showed him the expression he called "naive" countless times, and every time, Chitose who responded to this expression always replaced all explanations with a light smile.

"Yukimura's painting." He finished with a smile, and stretched out his hand to open the bundle of newspapers on the painting. "It's hard to stop painting this orange color once."

"?" I was surprised by this sentence, but when I saw the orange-pink color appear in front of my eyes, I suddenly remembered the email that Ueda-sensei sent me.That painting has the same name as mine.

"Yukimura's "Honey" is really amazing. Chitose looked at the flowers in the mist that seemed to be filled with moisture, the large orange, the large orange with gentle pink.

I didn't speak, but Chitose continued the topic:

"Some things are really addictive once you have them." He finally retracted his gaze, and when he slightly raised the corner of his mouth to look at me, I seemed to read something from his gaze, and I didn't want to read anything. something to admit.

"..."

"Amy, you must understand what I want to say." He put the painting on an easel.

"..." I still didn't speak, I stared at the painting as if I was thinking about something, and someone as smart as Chitose would never continue this fruitless topic.

He finally left the painting:

"Probably because you have to face your own future, so everything becomes so impatient, even Yukimura, who has always been calm..."

"It seems... Yukimura-kun probably... misunderstood something..." I was stunned for a second, the orange color in my eyes, but now it only arouses a faint sourness in my heart.

After that painting appeared, everything actually became more subtle.

The white figure sleeping in the flower field, the work that continues my dream, and the painting named "Honey", everything becomes complicated when I put my eyes on it.

However, he would not tell me about addiction.Although he is as calm as the purple sun in the rainy season, my impression of him is always unconsciously connected with the cherry blossoms in the spring.I admire this man, and I have admired him sincerely since a long time ago, when I just saw his paintings before I met him.Also cherish the fate with him, cherish everything related to him.But gradually, it seems that something is slowly sprouting between the two parties due to this year's contact.

As Chitose said, in the third year of high school, everything seemed to be sprinkled with a catalyst.Even though Yukimura is as peaceful as Yukimura, there are some things that are still eager to be defined, to be grasped.

So when hints and temptations were thrown at me over and over again, I suddenly realized that even after three years, I was still so innocent, so... so timid.It's exactly the same as the little girl in the third grade of middle school, and the girl who used to stand in the green wheat waves, both pretending not to see anything, the same hiding aside and carefully maintaining the relationship with him that I thought.

Because of fear, it used to be that the gentle boy would leave him, but now it was because he was afraid that the purple sun-like boy would sink too deep.

As a result, one hurts oneself, and the other may hurt others.

So this time, should I face something bravely, even if the result is still hurting myself?

"Maybe." Chitose smiled faintly, and after receiving my words, he turned around and prepared to leave. "Because it's the third year of high school, so it's even more important to break something cleanly."

"Well, sorry." I understood what he meant.

"Like for a moment, I'm going to have a break with Tennis. He raised his arm and looked at his huge palm, "say goodbye to this old friend." "

"Practice?" I leaned on the wheelchair, and I was finally forced to take back the gaze I was staring at because of struggling.

"Yes." He nodded, "He Qingxue's practice match."

I watched his back as he left the studio.

Beside my ears, the noisy chirping of the autumn cicada outside the window almost made my blood coagulate.

48Chapter48. Sky Color

The author has something to say:

Thank you for being the mine of the man blessed by the Two-dimensional God and the two girls from Arisugawa, I love you~! =3=

I will update the article on Thursday, and in the next chapter, Ami will have a talk with Yukimura, probably...

And when editing this chapter, I actually abused myself... OTZ

Have you ever experienced such a feeling.

Hiding alone in a room, even if the room is full of things you love, obviously it will bring you happiness, even though everything is covered by the sun, and the sky and the earth are bright, but you still feel fearful, afraid of something, What are you afraid of, what are you resisting...

Like... me right now.

Regardless of the sunlight outside the window, the shadows of the whirling trees even smudged into bright shadows in the studio, the sky is a clear blue, and the leaves are still gently swaying in the breeze, even the cicada just now is still singing without any change. crying.However, my world suddenly fell into darkness. It was because of my heart, because the ghost in my heart was accidentally released by a certain word.

So I locked the studio door, I was afraid, I was timid.Even this studio full of drawing boards can't save my fear, even Yukimura's warm-colored drawing boards that seem to be filled with moisture can't dispel my mood that is as dark as an abyss at the moment.

As if standing on the optical axis of time, I was afraid to turn my head, but had to face it in fear when the word "Qingxue" surfaced.I am not a strong person, not a tree that can take root and stand still. Even though I hoped that I could hold something, but when the characters in my memory appeared three years ago, I was still defeated.

Whether it was the Hanami, the fireworks, the sea in Kamakura, or the endless Aomori Mailang, all the memories about him flooded at this point in time.Under the sky, I am like a weak ant, pitifully licking my tentacles, pitifully having to face a large piece of memory like a huge sun that is too bright to be seen above my head, when it sinks, but Only the fate of being burned and corroded.

The ghost in my body is my hateful sensitivity, my hateful weakness, and what summons it are those fragments called "the past".

Before long, in this sunny studio, those rhythmic slaps could be clearly heard.

It was the sound of a tennis ball hitting the ground, and the whistle after a round, and the sound of someone cheering and clapping their hands.This quiet summer campus was filled with noise all of a sudden.

Became the background sound of my delusion, even if I was in such a strong state of mind.

But gradually, the beating heart calmed down.Maybe it's because I'm used to this feeling, or maybe I just think I'm ridiculous.

He hasn't heard from him since the winter vacation, which made me cry for a whole day