Life moved quietly after school.
Aiyumi and Ren were still neighbours — still the same two souls who grew up side by side.
Different schools, different colleges, yet their friendship never faded.
They didn't talk every day, but when they did, it felt like no time had passed.
They'd walk home together sometimes, share snacks, or laugh about their childhood fights.
It was a bond made of simplicity and trust.
When college began, fate crossed their paths again —
both got admission to the same college.
But this time, something inside Aiyumi felt heavy.
She had dreamed of joining Arts & Design, of turning her sketches into her future —
but her parents refused.
"There's no career in art, Aiyumi,"
her father's voice echoed in her mind.
"Do something sensible."
So she ended up in a course she never loved,
pretending to be okay with it.
Ren noticed that smile she forced every morning —
the one that didn't quite reach her eyes.
They walked to college together every day.
Different classes, same campus.
Same lunch breaks, different dreams.
He'd talk about his coding projects,
she'd doodle quietly on the corner of her notebook.
And when he teased her for zoning out, she'd just smile faintly and say,
"Just thinking… about colours."
He didn't push her to explain.
He just walked beside her — like always.
Their friendship remained pure, peaceful, untouched by time or words.
No one else understood it — and maybe that's what made it so rare.
She had given up on her dream…
but somehow, she found peace in his company.
Because Ren — unknowingly — became the art she could never draw.