For a while, Casey chatted with Rin casually.
"You watch anime?"
"Mostly to gain inspiration. But you could say that I enjoy it too. Certain scenes, certain styles… they help me think about composition, colors, and emotion in my work."
"Huh… so it's not just entertainment. It's… research?"
"You could say that. Inspiration can come from anywhere, even what others might call a silly cartoon."
"I never would've guessed. I mean… you seem… so focused. I'd have thought you didn't have time for… anime."
"Just because I draw doesn't mean I'm incapable of enjoying things. Do I look that boring to you?"
"No, that's not what I meant. I just… didn't expect it, I guess."
Rin arched a brow, though there was a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Didn't expect what? That I have a life outside of staring at a canvas?"
"When you put it like that, I sound like a jerk."
"A little," she said lightly, turning back to her painting. "But I'll forgive you."
Casey rubbed the back of his neck, watching as she added a careful stroke of color.
"So what kind do you watch?"
"Depends on my mood. Sometimes action for movement and pacing. Sometimes slice-of-life for expressions. Those are harder to get right than people think."
"Expressions, huh…"
"Yeah. Anyone can draw something that looks 'cool.' But making someone feel something when they look at it? That's different."
He glanced at the canvas again, trying to piece together what she meant.
"Is that what you're going for with this?"
Rin didn't answer immediately. She leaned back slightly, tilting her head as she studied her own work.
"Something like that."
"Mind if I ask what it is?"
"I don't mind. Doesn't mean I'll give you a straight answer though."
"Fair enough."
For a moment, they remained in this comfortable silence. The distant noise of the campus drifted faintly through the trees, but here, it felt muted like the world had taken a step back.
Casey simply watched without disturbing Rin's progress.
Simultaneously, he also narrowed his eyes and examined the incomplete painting on the canvas.
Ignoring the doodle Rin had drawn on the top right corner for some reason, the main painting itself were a bit strange and contained details that didn't quite line up the way he expected.
For example, the proportions of the figure on the canvas seemed deliberately off — not enough to look wrong at first glance, but just enough to make his eyes linger. The shadows fell in directions that didn't match the light, and certain lines overlapped in a weird manner.
He frowned slightly and tilted his head at an angle.
"There's something odd about it."
Rin didn't look up. "Odd how?"
"I don't know. It feels like… it shouldn't work, but it does."
A faint smile tugged at her lips. "That's the idea."
Casey folded his arms, studying it more carefully. "It's like you're breaking the rules, but only halfway."
"Rules are more like guidelines. You follow them until you understand them and decide what matters after that."
'Most people will disagree. After all, not everyone has the same perspective of the world. Someone could view something as [black] while another person would view it as [white].'
'In that scenario, what's the difference between [white] and [black]?'
'Naturally, you would need certain guidelines to differentiate between these two concepts. In a way, I suppose she's not completely wrong.'
'Everyone has the right to make their own conclusion of their worldview.'
As his thoughts reached this point, Casey nodded slowly and gesturing toward the small sketch in the corner. Then he asked, curious,
"What about that doodle?"
Rin finally glanced up. "That?"
"Yeah. It doesn't match the rest at all."
"It's not supposed to." She shrugged lightly. "Sometimes I just draw whatever comes to mind. Keeps things from getting too stiff."
"So even your randomness is intentional."
"I suppose so."
Another brief silence followed, though this one felt more thoughtful than before. Casey shifted his weight, still staring at the canvas as if trying to solve a puzzle.
"You know," he said after a moment, "I think I get what you meant earlier."
"Oh?"
"About making people feel something. I don't even know what this is supposed to be, but I can't stop looking at it."
"Well, that's enough for me. I don't want anything too profound."
"You're pretty confident."
"I have to be. If I second-guess everything, I'd never finish anything. Which is why I like simple things. Simple things are, well... simple. There is no explanation other than that."
"Must be nice. For someone like me who tend to overthink anything infront of me, even simple stuff turns into… something bigger."
"That's not always a bad thing. It just means you notice details more than others."
"..."
Casey considered that, then gave a small nod.
"Hm. Maybe."
A breeze passed through the courtyard, rustling the leaves above them. Rin steadied the canvas with one hand, her other still holding the brush.
Casey glanced at his phone, his expression shifting slightly.
"I should probably head out."
He hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
"It was… nice talking to you."
Rin gave a small, almost absent-minded smile as she turned back to her painting.
"You too."
Casey lingered for a second longer, then turned and began walking back toward the main paths.
† †
A few moments later, Casey finally arrived at his part-time job after a crowded bus ride.
The place he worked was a warehouse on the edge of GrimCity, where goods from close neighboring towns were delivered, sorted, and redistributed. It was a physically demanding job which consisted of constant movement, heavy lifting, and long hours on his feet.
Fortunately, Casey had the build for it, and the pay was decent enough by his standards.
It wasn't his first rodeo, either. He'd done this kind of work before, so the strain didn't bother him as much as it used to.
"You're late."
The stern voice cut through the ambient noise of forklifts and shifting cargo.
He already knew who it was.
Sure enough, Mr. Joel stood a few steps away, arms crossed and expression tight with irritation.
Casey offered a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Bus took longer than expected."
"Of course it did," Mr. Joel replied dryly. "First thing out of your mouth is always an excuse. Don't you get tired of repeating yourself?"
"S-sorry, boss."
"Just get inside and change. Quickly. We've got a lot to move today."
"Yes, sir."
Casey hurried to the staff room, changed into his work clothes, and shoved his bag into a locker. Within minutes, he was back on the floor.
Grabbing the nearest stack of boxes, he got to work, moving them from one section to another while glancing down at the checklist in his hand.
The rhythm settled in quickly.
Lift. Carry. Drop. Check. Repeat.
He moved with practiced efficiency, weaving through narrow aisles stacked high with crates and sealed cartons.
"Careful with that!" someone barked from across the aisle.
Clicking his tongue, he adjusted his grip on the box and stacked it neatly where it belonged, looking down to the checklist again.
Section C-12… done.
"Hey, new shipment just came in!" another worker called out.
A groan rippled through a few of the workers nearby. Casey exhaled quietly and inwardly complained:
'Just great. It seems I will be very busy for a while.'
"Taylor!"
He looked up. Mr. Joel stood near the loading bay, gesturing sharply.
"Stop daydreaming and get over here!"
"I wasn't... ugh... Coming!" He swallowed his retort and then jogged over, rolling his shoulders once as he approached. A truck had just backed into the bay, its rear doors thrown open to reveal tightly packed stacks of cargo.
"You're on unload. Make it quick. We're behind schedule."
"Got it."
Without wasting time, he climbed into the back of the truck. The heat inside was noticeably worse, the air thick and unmoving. He grabbed the nearest box, testing its weight before hoisting it onto his shoulder.
One by one, he carried them down, passing them off or stacking them as directed. Sweat began to gather at his temples, his breathing steady but deeper now.
"Phew... This should be the last one, yeah…"
No matter how Casey looked at it, there weren't any boxes left. About an hour had passed, and considering how heavy those crates were, finishing them this quickly felt like a small miracle.
Or maybe… he'd just gotten a little stronger.
"Hey. Excuse me."
Just as he was about to take a breather, someone called out to him. Casey turned and saw one of his coworkers heading his way.
The oldest guy in the warehouse, probably in his mid-thirties, with a perpetually worn-out look on his face. That kind of tired look was particularly common in this workplace and most of the staff were around the same age, with even the youngest senior only in their late twenties.
What was his name again? Casey frowned inwardly. Can't remember. Guess he didn't leave much of an impression.
Outwardly, though, he kept a polite expression.
"Yeah? Need something?"
"Can I borrow your box cutter? Can't find mine anywhere."
Casey nodded, reaching into his pocket. "It should be—"
His fingers paused for a split second before he pulled it out.
"Here. Just bring it back when you're done."
"Ah. Thank you."
"Hm?"
As he handed the box cutter to his senior, Casey noticed a strange flicker on the man's face.
Probably just my imagination, he thought, brushing it off.
But the expression had been odd. It was something eerily close to...
...Lust?