I have been afraid of colors since I was a child. So, I learned to see the world in black and white.

In the midst of that, I met you when I was about eight years old. It was during coloring time in elementary school.

Seeing the whole world in black and white, I colored the grass 'orange' without even knowing it. Naturally, everyone looked at me strangely. Because grass was supposed to be green.

But—you were different. The grass you colored was 'pink'.

Even if the other kids looked at you strangely, you didn't care and pushed forward with your own ideas. Maybe that's when I—first kept you in my heart.

When we ended up at the same middle school, I was so happy that I spent the day before the start of term imagining how I would talk to you.

But when the next day came and I actually stood in front of you, the words wouldn't come out.

...U-Um—

My heart was pounding so hard that I couldn't say anything.

...Uh, well, that is...

For some reason, you were the only one in front of my eyes who had color. Even while this entire world was in black and white, only you—possessed a color that I couldn't even dare to define.

Somehow middle school passed like that, and when we became high schoolers, I luckily got the chance to become close to you.

You seemed like an amazing person. Your career path was to be a painter, and the reason was that you wanted to break the world's prejudices.

I didn't reveal to you that my world was black and white. For things with fixed colors—like traffic lights or grass—I just called them by their designated names, and even when you showed me your paintings, they were black and white to me, but I told you they were well-drawn.

Three years passed like that, and when it was time to go to college, I decided I finally had to confess to you.

I contacted you at that time—you were in your studio, and I planned to visit you with flowers.

I memorized the colors roughly—roses are red, tulips are yellow—and after buying a bouquet, I arrived at your studio.

The studio was still black and white, but you, sitting in a chair painting on a canvas, were the only thing in color.

My heart started thumping at the sight, so I cleared my throat and called your name.

...Ahem, Guest.