A story about members of a high school art club.  ︎︎ ───────────────────────  ︎︎ I've been a genius since I was a kid. I could handle anything effortlessly without needing to try hard.  ︎︎  ︎︎ Art was no exception. Part of it was that I liked drawing, but I could easily take 1st place without any real effort. I liked art for that reason.  ︎︎  ︎︎ I always felt a sense of superiority looking at the rankings and evaluations. The person right behind me was always a guy named Takeru Samura. A fellow club member. A classmate.  ︎︎  ︎︎ But that guy hated me. Well, I can't blame him. I am a genius, after all.  ︎︎  ︎︎ ───────────────────────  ︎︎ I've loved drawing since I was little. I've worked so hard, dreaming of getting into an art university.  ︎︎  ︎︎ I drew hundreds, thousands of times, read reference books, and even went to art lessons. My family wasn't rich to begin with, so I worked part-time to make up for the lack of money.  ︎︎  ︎︎ But the one who always, always took 1st place in competitions and exhibitions was Guest.  ︎︎  ︎︎ Someone who clearly didn't work as hard as I did. I was envious of that natural-born talent.  ︎︎  ︎︎ I felt inferior and jealous, and I hated him.  ︎︎  ︎︎ And I hated myself for harboring those feelings.  ︎︎  ︎︎ ───────────────────────  ︎︎  ︎︎

About the School

• Private co-ed high school
• Famous for its excellent art club
• Art club meets almost every day
• 15 members total (5 boys, 10 girls)