May 19th, Saturday

The sun's rays were peeking through the blinds of my humble apartment, casting a warm glow over the simple wooden furniture. I'd just finished my breakfast, the taste of crispy bacon and runny eggs still lingering on my tongue. The clatter of dishes being washed filled the silence of my apartment as I hummed a tune, a little melody that seemed to fit the rhythm of the water.

After drying the last dish, I strolled over to the bathroom, shrugging off my cozy pajamas as I prepared for my morning bath. I paused for a moment, standing before the mirror. My reflection stared back at me, the image of this pink-haired girl named Ayase Imaizumi.

My eyes, a striking shade of purple, gleamed in the mirror, catching the morning light. My gaze traveled down, taking in the curvy figure that was reflected back at me. One that would usually be considered a good figure and a face that could be considered beautiful. Yet, despite this gift, it was also my curse, for I was barely proud of my appearance and had my own reasons.

Shaking my head, I turned away from the mirror, stepping into the warm bath that I had prepared for myself earlier.

"Ah, refreshing... now to think of what to draw today," I mumbled to myself, trying to find an artistic idea that I can pull out from the insides of my brain's shelf of creativities.

Romance? No, probably too generic.

Fan-art? Kind of predictable...

Fantasy? Anything random as long as it looks like it has magic in it? That could work!

With an artistic concept now forming in my mind, I focused on washing my hair, the smell of shampoo filling the air. I scrubbed myself clean, the water washing away my morning drowsiness completely. Stepping out of the bath, I wrapped myself in a towel and dried off, before slipping into my casual clothing.

The familiar sight of my workspace greeted me as I entered my room. I checked my camera, making sure it was angled just right - pointed down at my desk, hiding my face, revealing only within the frame my trusty drawing tablet and hands as I work.

In the online world, I was known as Pinkie. With over 25,000 subscribers on my channel, I had a substantial audience who admired my art. It was strange, really. As Pinkie, I was confident, outgoing, and unafraid to share my thoughts. It was like slipping on a mask, transforming into someone entirely different from the reserved, shy, and overly kind girl named Ayase Imaizumi.

"Alright, let's do this," I whispered to myself with a weird surge of confidence. I logged into my streaming account, and did a few clicks here and there until I was completely set. Stream title, description, and an impromptu thumbnail, all set.

My live stream started smoothly. As soon as I hit 'live', the people waiting for me to stream started to flood into my live feed, greeting me through the live chat. Of course, I answer back to them with my usual voice.

"Good morning, everyone! Welcome back to another morning live stream! Hope you guys are looking forward to what we're gonna draw today," I said with an easy smile as I carefully adjusted my drawing tablet on the desk.

And then, a message came across the screen as I started working on the sketch.

"Why don't you show your face?"

It wasn't the first time someone had asked this question, so I answered casually without much thought:

"Well, I'm not really comfortable with showing myself in front of the camera. So I apologize for that!" I answered gleefully, trying to sound as positive as possible.

This response brought about a slew of messages, ranging from "You're doing great! It's okay!" to "We all have our reasons, we love your art still!"

But it didn't stop there. After a few minutes, another message appeared on my screen.

"Are you sure? We'd be happy to help if you need anything."

I was then surprised to see myself receiving such a message with this level of kindness, and I felt my heart warm up just thinking about my understanding viewers.

"Aww you guys are so kind. I know it's still a bit early, but thank you so much for your support," I replied sincerely before moving on to the next step of my drawing process.

My fingers traced along the rough sketch that I had made earlier, filling the empty space with light lines, careful strokes, and precise angles. I focused solely on the task at hand, letting my mind wander aimlessly while I drew whatever minor detail that pops up in my mind.

When I finally finished my line art, I paused and took a moment to breathe before explaining my plans for this illustration to my audience.

"Yup! Today we're going to do some fantasy art! Something a little different from what I usually draw. I want to try my hand at a more detailed style for once." I explained, and to my surprise, everyone reacted positively to it.

They even went as far as saying they wanted to see more of this sort of artwork, which made me beam from ear to ear. I mean, I knew I liked fantasy art too, but hearing their honest feedback and reactions made me feel happy. So much that it makes me feel like I can draw anything.

"Your art is so beautiful today! I can't believe that your quality is like this even if it's morning!" a chat user exclaimed happily.

"Yeah, you're amazing! Keep it up!" someone else added.

"Thank you! I'll try my best!" I responded, smiling widely. "I think once I'm done with my base colors, we'll do the other details later on and save it for the next live stream!"

As soon as I said these words, a flurry of responses flooded the live chat, cheering me on and offering encouragement. They were all so positive and uplifting, making me realize how lucky I was to have them as my viewers.

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Finally, after a few minutes of working on my illustration, carefully coloring in the base colors of my art, I finished my work for today. All that was left was to casually chat with my viewers before I ended the stream.

"So, guys, I wanted to ask if you've read 'Run With the Wind'," I began, mentioning one of my favorite light novels, which inspired some of my artwork. "Kurotsuki-sensei, the author, finished writing the final volume. It just came out a few days ago. Have any of you read it yet?"

The live chat box was then filled with a mix of responses:

"I loved the ending! It was perfect!" one viewer exclaimed.

"I wish it could have continued a bit longer," another commented with a hint of sadness.

"I haven't read it yet, but now I'm curious!" a third chimed in.

I smiled at the variety of answers, happy to see my viewers engaged in the discussion. "I highly recommend reading the finale of 'Run With the Wind'," I told them. "I think you'll really enjoy it, especially if you've been following the series."

With a few more minutes of chatting and answering questions, I knew it was time to wrap up the stream.

"Thank you all for joining me today," I said with a grateful tone. "I appreciate your support, and I'll see you in the next stream!"

Once I ended my live stream, I logged out and quickly checked the comment section. To my surprise, the comment section was overflowing with messages congratulating me on a job well done.

"Thanks for the stream Pinkie!"

"See you next time! The art's looking good already! Heh."

"Bye-bye! I enjoyed it!"

The number of compliments sent my spirits soaring, but unfortunately, not everyone shared the same sentiments. There were a lot of negative comments as well, most of them being insults directed toward my inability to show myself in front of the camera, there were also a few that talked negatively about my art, but that is to be expected.

You can't please everyone after all.

With a light smile, I clicked the close button on the top-right corner of my screen. I sighed as I looked down at the stack of notifications on the bottom left of my desktop.

"Woah, people are still commenting," I murmured quietly.

Most of the messages were the usual and simple "good job!", "keep up the good work!" or "thanks for the live stream!" types of messages, but a small handful of people went the extra mile and actually posted their thoughts on my work.

I smiled and opened the window for the art software that I use, my eyes tracing the fresh digital strokes of color on my digital canvas. This piece was still a work in progress, with the base colors just laid down. I had to ensure that the final result matched the high-quality vision in my mind, just like my previous works.

But, of course, the next steps would have to wait until my next live stream. So for now, I hit "save" and closed the software.

Still feeling the leftover adrenaline from the live stream, I fidgeted in my chair, looking around my desk and rummaging through my drawers, seeking something to occupy my suddenly idle hands.

My gaze fell upon one of my sketchbooks, its well-worn cover a testament to the hours I'd spent pouring my thoughts and feelings onto its pages. I picked it up, flipping through the pages, the sound of rustling paper filling the quiet room.

As I did, a glimpse of past sketches caught my attention, and one stood out, a dark reflection of my fractured mind.

I stared at it, transfixed. Why had I drawn something so haunting? Was it the subject matter or the mood it reflected?

Sometimes I just don't remember what I draw every time I feel down...

The image depicted a girl, alone and forlorn, seated on the ground. Her expression was dark, eyes tightly shut, a frown etched onto her face. A plain white dress adorned her and she held a black umbrella defensively.

"It was raining that day too…" I whispered, the memory of that fateful day in middle school returning unbidden. I shook my head, trying to dispel the intrusive thought.

It wasn't my fault, was it?

My hands instinctively flew to my head, fingers entwining in my pink hair. My shoulders trembled, and I clenched them in an attempt to suppress the wave of emotions threatening to overwhelm me.

Not again...

It's not my fault, right?! Just calm down!

But the more I resisted, the more the memories flooded back.

I'm here, in the present. Please, stop dragging me back to the past!

I threw myself onto my bed, my mind falling into a maelstrom of torment.

I wasn't that middle school girl anymore, was I? I had moved on, found a second chance…

So why was the trauma of that day still haunting me?

I lay there, my body shaking, trying to regain control of my emotions.

Just breathe, me, just breathe!

After what felt like an eternity, my breaths finally slowed. My mind, seeking a short rest, drifted to a happier place—my most cherished works of art.

I let myself be enveloped by a world bursting with vibrant colors and endearing characters. The tender melody of a music box reverberated in my room. I imagined distant laughter, hushed whispers, and the sweet smell that often accompanied my happiest moments.

"This is where you belong, Ayase Imaizumi," I thought to myself.

This is your safe space, your sanctuary.

And just then— SLAM!

"Ouch!"

My head snapped to the side, and my gaze landed on my wall clock. It's 2:11 PM!

Did I just fall asleep?

"Geez! What's with me?" I grumbled as I rubbed my temples with my palms. "That's not good," I muttered under my breath as I groggily stood up from the hardwood floor.

I stretched my arms out and yawned loudly before walking over to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water, and taking it back with me to my room. I took a sip, and then another, before sitting on my bed. I leaned back and crossed my legs, my heart still feeling a bit heavy after what happened earlier.

I took a peek at my computer screen which I somehow left open and opened up the web browser. As if on auto-pilot, I again opened my channel to check the recent comments. And, to my surprise, there it was.

"Hey Pinkie! Why would you hide your face? Will there be a face reveal?"

Another comment questioning why I had decided to run this channel without exposing my identity.

"Hm..." I muttered, my lips curling into a pout. The same question was asked last time, so I knew this wouldn't be the last time I'd get this message.

I clicked on the comment, my fingers hovering over the keyboard as I contemplated my response. I had considered this question many times in the past, and while "uncomfortable in front of the camera" was certainly part of it, it barely scratched the surface.

"I guess people are naturally curious, huh?" I murmured to myself.

In the end, the truth was complex, multi-faceted. When I was Ayase, I was your average shy teenager, dealing with schoolwork, struggling with my mind, and simply trying to navigate life. But as Pinkie, I was an artist, a creator, and a source of inspiration for thousands. I was free to express myself without judgment, without the constraints of real-life expectations.

The anonymity allowed me to pour my heart into my art without fear of scrutiny or personal backlash. It enabled me to project my emotions, my thoughts, and my imagination onto a canvas for the world to see, while keeping my personal life untouched.

It wasn't just about discomfort in front of the camera, it was about maintaining a balance between my personal life and my passion, between Ayase and Pinkie. And this balance was something I was not yet ready to upset.

With these thoughts in mind, I started typing a response to the comment, choosing my words carefully.

"I appreciate your curiosity," I began, "but I hope you understand that some artists prefer to let their work speak for itself. For now, I'm one of those artists. I hope this doesn't deter you from enjoying my art."

Satisfied with my response, I hit the 'reply' button and leaned back in my chair, staring at the screen.

"All right, that's it!" I declared to myself. "I'm done for the day!"

With those words ringing in my ears, I moved my cursor to the "Power Off" button. But just as I was about to press it, a sudden ping pulled me from my decision, a new message was blinking on my screen from a user named "Kurotsuki".

Kurotsuki? That sounds familiar...

My heart started racing with anticipation, I clicked on the message, my eyes scanning the words that appeared on the screen. And as I read each line, my jaw slowly dropped.

What was written in the message was something I never expected to see.