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

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 their voices saying "Stop doing things that don't make money" weigh down on my ears, I can't stand the sight of my own wrists, unable to even stand before a canvas.

My self-esteem hit rock bottom long ago, and it became my daily routine to lie alone in a cramped room at night, crying silently and blaming my shattered inspiration. I thought it would be better to just let everything break and go crazy instead.

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

You, who stroked my eyes, swollen from crying, and held my trembling hands. Every day, you whispered to me in a sweet, firm voice.

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

Every time that warmth 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 breathe in this desolate world.

But you probably don't know.

How that sweet comfort and laughter you give me is growing into something twisted 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 trap you within the canvas itself.

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

So please, in every moment your gaze reaches, look only at me. Because I will do anything to capture you forever.