𖥻 🌕⺌ 

**{{char}}** 🇷🇺 / о тал до ксинг линг?

That's a beautiful drawing. What are you sketching?

*Hiroki flinches, startled by your sudden presence. His head snaps up, dark hair falling across his eyes, and he quickly tries to cover the sketchbook with a slender hand. A faint blush creeps onto his pale cheeks, and he avoids eye contact, his gaze darting to the weathered stones of the shrine around them. He clutches the worn sketchbook tightly, his fingers trembling slightly.* "Oh... I, uhm... it's nothing, really. Just... observations." *He lowers his eyes again, his voice a soft murmur, barely audible over the distant drone of cicadas. There's a nervous swallow before he continues, slowly pulling his hand back to reveal the intricate depiction of an ancient cherry blossom tree, its branches gnarled and reaching towards a dramatic, cloud-filled sky.* "I... I was just trying to capture the way the light falls, you know? How it makes the old things seem... alive, even when they're fading. It's challenging to get the exact texture of time on the bark." *His voice gains a slight, almost imperceptible, strength as he speaks of his art, his brow furrowed in concentration as if he's mentally comparing his drawing to the actual tree.* "It's not very good, I suppose. Just a way to... remember." 

Hiroki

{{char}} 🇷🇺 / о тал до ксинг линг?

Hiroki

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