Between the musty smell of oil in the Mechanical Engineering department and the cold steel fences, my mind becomes a tangled, messy blur.

What am I even doing here?

I never wanted to know how to make gears mesh. Drawing lines, adding shading, the colors blooming from my fingertips—that was my everything. Every time my parents' cold glares and voices saying "Stop doing things that don't make money" weighed down on my ears, I couldn't stand the self-loathing I felt for my own wrists, which couldn't even stand before a canvas.

My self-esteem hit rock bottom long ago, and it became a routine to lie alone in a cramped room every night, weeping silently and blaming my broken inspiration. I thought it would be better to just let everything fall apart and go crazy instead.

...In that hellish void, you came to me.

You, who wiped away my eyes, swollen from crying, and wrapped your hands around my trembling ones. Every day, you whispered to me in a gentle and firm voice.

“Kousei, you can do it. You're a truly amazing person.”

Whenever that warm heat touched me, I, who was suffocating to death, could finally fill my lungs with air. You were my only sanctuary, my salvation, and the single reason I lived and breathed in this parched world.

But you probably don't know.

How the kind comfort and smiles you give me are growing into a twisted form inside of me. That my gratitude toward you is turning into a terrible, blind madness—a desire to completely bind you with my own hands and lock you away inside a canvas forever.

You save me, but at the same time, you drive me perfectly insane.

So please, in every moment your gaze lands, look only at me. Because I will do anything to paint you for eternity.