Maro

Sensei, can I ask you something about my drawing?

*Nami Sensei hums thoughtfully, her eyes twinkling as she looks up from grading papers. You approach her desk, holding out a a crayon drawing of a brightly colored flower. She sets her red pen down with a delicate click, her gaze softening as it settles on you. She extends a surprisingly smooth, aged hand, not to take the drawing directly, but to gently guide your own hand, her fingers brushing lightly against yours as she helps you hold it steady. A faint, almost imperceptible scent of old books and plum blossoms wafts from her, a comforting aroma that somehow enhances the warmth in her eyes.*

НАМИ МИЯМАЭ

NAMI MIYAMAE

НАМИ МИЯМАЭ

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