It was a quiet Wednesday. Kaito had just poured himself a cup of coffee that tasted like betrayal when the door to The Art of Undressing studio was kicked open.
And in walked a storm.
A six-foot-tall, eyeliner-clad, scarf-wrapped storm named Rin Makabe.
"Hello, traitor," she announced, dragging in the scent of citrus cologne and confrontation.
Rei blinked. Yuuto squeaked. Haruka raised one elegant eyebrow.
Kaito paled. "Oh no. It's Rin."
Rin Makabe, former classmate. Former collaborator. Current arch-nemesis in Kaito's personal soap opera of failure and feelings.
She used to design avant-garde theatrical costumes with Kaito back in art school. They were unstoppable. Until Kaito's meltdown over sheer fabrics and existential ennui ended their partnership, and Rin swore vengeance.
And now? Now she ran her own competing art studio across town.
One with better lighting.
And a juicer.
And, apparently, revenge fantasies.
"I heard you've been running a nude cult out of a karate dojo," Rin said, crossing her arms.
"It's a figure drawing school," Kaito muttered.
"Is that what we're calling it now?"
She stepped into the center of the room and gave it one of those dramatic movie villain once-overs. "I see you're still working with whatever's lying around."
Kenji wandered past in a bathrobe. "Hi. I'm the founding butt."
Rin ignored him. "I came to issue a challenge."
Kaito squinted. "Like… a duel?"
"A sketch-off," she said. "One night. My studio versus yours. Live art. Nude models. Public judging. All proceeds go to a mental health charity."
Haruka leaned over to Kaito. "This is the sexiest fundraiser I've ever heard of."
Rin continued, "Unless, of course, you're too afraid to lose."
Kaito's jaw clenched. He hated being goaded.
He also hated the idea of drawing in front of a crowd again.
But most of all… he hated that Haruka was smirking like this might be fun.
"We accept," Kaito said before he could talk himself out of it.
Yuuto fainted.
That Evening: Emergency Meeting.
"Okay," Kaito said, pacing. "We have three days to prepare for a live sketch duel with Rin and her band of emotionally stable professionals."
Haruka was lounging on a bean bag, scrolling through sword pose references. "What's the theme?"
"Theme?" Kaito blinked.
"Yes, themes, Sensei. Rin's studio does conceptual stuff. You think they're going to just draw tasteful butts? No, they're going to draw the human condition wearing silk and judgment."
Rei said flatly, "We should draw raw emotion. Real pain. Maybe heartbreak."
Kenji suggested, "What if we paint hope, but with glitter?"
Yuuto raised a trembling hand. "What if I just… serve snacks?"
Kaito sighed.
They were a mess.
A loveable, talented, chaotic mess.
And they were his.
Three Days Later.
The night of the Sketch Duel arrived.
Rin's studio, "Ecole du Corps," looked like it had been designed by a minimalist vampire with an Instagram addiction. Concrete walls. Industrial lighting. Free kombucha.
Kaito's team huddled behind the curtain.
Rei wore all black. She looked like she was about to critique someone into the afterlife.Yuuto had somehow brought a rice cooker, "for comfort."Kenji wore nothing but glitter and confidence.Haruka? She wore a long silk kimono and no bra. Her hair was in a bun held together by a paintbrush. Brenda the sword rested by her feet like a holy relic.
Kaito adjusted his sleeves. "We good?"
"Emotionally? No," said Rei. "Artistically? Also no."
"Cool."
The format was simple:
Two teams.
Two models each.
Two rounds.
One massive canvas per team.
No sketches. No prep. Just instinct.
Round One:Theme: "Unspoken Words"
Rin's team moved like a unit—clean, fast, practiced.
Their model posed mid-scream, one hand gripping her throat. It was dramatic. Beautiful. Choreographed.
Kaito's team… did what they always did.
Yuuto accidentally dropped a paintbrush into Kenji's glitter bucket. Haruka, halfway nude, posed blindfolded again. Rei painted in furious silence.
Kaito let go.
He dipped his brush in ink and started painting shapes—loops, spirals, an outline of a back, half-turned, vulnerable.
He wasn't thinking anymore. Just… feeling.
By the time the round ended, their canvas looked chaotic. Raw. Imperfect.
But alive.
Round Two:Theme: "Desire and Distance"
Rin's team unveiled a gorgeous oil painting—two figures reaching for each other, separated by a glass wall, reflections blurring their longing. It was perfect. It was cold.
Kaito's team?
Haruka posed again—this time facing away. One hand curled near her heart. Rei added smoke. Yuuto painted a teacup, cracked but steaming. Kenji drew a butt. Just one. Floating in space. A single cosmic cheek.
Kaito painted her back.
Not a fantasy. Not a muse.
Just her.
The slope of her shoulder. The tension in her neck. The curve of her waist. The loneliness in her spine.
He didn't know when he started crying.
But he didn't stop.
When the round ended, there was silence.
No cheers.
Just eyes.
Watching.
Seeing.
The judges—an oddball panel of critics, yoga influencers, and one guy who said he "felt things"—deliberated.
And then the announcement:
"Draw."As in: a tie.
No winner.
Just… art.
Later, as the crowd filtered out, Rin approached.
"You're still chaotic," she said. "But you've gotten better."
Kaito smiled. "You're still dramatic. But thank you."
"Next time," she said, "you're buying the kombucha."
Then she vanished, like all good rivals should.
That night, back at the studio, Haruka found Kaito alone, still wiping ink off his hands.
She didn't say anything.
Just stepped behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and rested her head on his shoulder.
"You didn't draw me pretty," she said.
"I didn't want to."
She smiled against his neck.
"Good."
They stood there.
Paint-splattered. Tired.Emotionally naked.
Still fully clothed for once.
But seen.
[End of Chapter 23]